Tools and Gadgets

For the second time in the month of April, I went home to Alabama for a celebration in Julie and Gabe's honor: this time the occasion was a "Tool and Gadget Shower" to outfit the couple with all the knick-knacks and doo-dads surely essential to a happily functioning home. I admit my bewilderment at the assortment of gifts - if it doesn't fit in my compact tool box, I believe it to be only marginally neccessary for the occasional emergency...and rather useless for everyday life.  The mindset of New Yorkers: when something breaks, you call someone to fix it.

Gifts of drills and sweepers and thingamajigs emerged from beautifully wrapped packages to oohs and aahs from the guests. Julie and Gabe were quite pleased with the gadgets they received, but the only tool I wished to gain in my toolbox (my heart's toolbox) was the one that created the beautiful sunset that wrapped our party into the night sky. 

I don't think I will find "Sunset Maker" on the registry at Home Depot!

Gabe and Julie 

Daddy and Mama enjoying laughs and the evening sun.

Another valuable gadget for my "toolbox" - a "Sister Trio"

Frozen

The high temperatures seven of the last nine days have been at or below 32 degrees. Today's high is 21, and the low is 6. Yesterday the high was 17. Snow has stayed piled on cars, gutters, fire escapes, shrubs, rooftops - everywhere - for the last week. The streets are quiet with most people staying indoors as much as possible.

New York City is frozen.

And with no city energy pumping through my veins, I am frozen. My normal fast walking pace has slowed to an even gait; my head stays tucked into a cap and hood and buried into a scarf. My line of sight is narrowed to just what is straight ahead - there is no looking all around me when I'm burrowed deep into my bulky coat.

So my eyes fixate on the images before me, images I see everyday, yet somehow now in my slowed down mind they look different - freezing, perhaps, into my vision. I stop in the middle of Park Avenue and notice the arch of the street lights repeating at every intersection, a graceful canopy decorating the length of the street. On Lexington I see a maze of zigzagged fire escapes on the sides of buildings, almost creating a contemporary piece of art. On the corner of 3rd Avenue, the line of yellow cabs turning one after another seems almost a well-timed parade, the rhythmic swoosh of the tires audible in the cold quiet air.

Everywhere I look I see something I've seen before, but not really. Never experiencing it with such crispness and stilled observance. Maybe the freezing temperatures slow the city down so only its bare necessities are functioning, bringing them sharply into focus.

As the frozen day drew to a close, the last image my mind recorded was the one of my best buddies Lauren and Jake as they turned to walk away after our dinner. Since they move from New York tomorrow, I had the sharp realization that this is probably the last time I will see them together in the city, the image of them walking hand in hand down the street is frozen in my mind.

Remnant reminders

Construction just up the street from my apartment has annoyed me for months. Not because I could hear banging and drilling in my apartment, but because "the project" dominated the sidewalk and my ability to walk it freely. Every time I left the apartment to go anywhere, I had to go underneath, around or through the mess of two by fours and machinery. And on top of that - literally - the scaffolding covering the sidewalk (a byproduct of all construction projects in the city) was an obtrusive eyesore for the street, a congregating area for random shady-looking people, and a constant source of fear for objects that could fall on my head.

I had no idea - and never stopped to consider - what the final product was planned to be; my only concern was to get through the area without stepping on a nail or being heckled by the workers. Even so, I did notice the building taking shape little by little each week - the foundation beams soon became walls that were soon painted and given necessary lights and fixtures. A few months into the project, I remember thinking as I scurried by, "This pile of nothing is becoming something!"

One day the protective scaffolding finally came down, revealing detailed work that had been hidden from my street view, and I was surprised at the refining and advancement that had taken place without me being aware. Still though, boards covered the facade and paper blocked the view through the windows, so it was impossible to guess the outward appearance, much less what finishing was going on inside the heart of the building.

When I returned to New York after my Christmas and New Years travels, and I made my way up the street for the first time in a few weeks, I stopped in my tracks beside the construction area. It was no longer a construction area at all - coverings had been removed to unveil a finished building. From the dirt and splintered wood had risen a sleek and strong building with a surprising purpose - it is the community facility for an Asian church called Remnant Presbyterian!

Now those who gather outside on the street have a Bible in hand rather than a beverage in a brown paper bag. What once was the black eye of the street now is its shining halo. The remnant now for me of those months of annoying construction is the reminder that I, too, am a work in progress, and that I should not be quick to judge those areas (and people) of my life that are messy, troublesome or need a little nailing into place...maybe something beautiful is under construction!

Chance Encounters

I'm debating whether I can stamp an "Only in New York" sticker on the following story, or if I should simply reason that New Yorkers have an inclination to find opportunity in every encounter, always ready to create an experience - just like the city in which we live.

The story begins the weekend before I moved to New York, when I went on a beach trip to Destin and randomly met a girl who had just moved back to Alabama after several years in New York. You can imagine our conversation - one girl about to move to the city of her dreams and one girl just back from her adventure. Meeting her was a sign that New York was destined for me - I would go and have my own discoveries and experience life there for myself. The beach trip ended, I went back to Birmingham and on to New York, and I didn't think much of her again.

Until my flight back to New York on the evening of December 26th. Waking from my nap in the dark and quiet plane when we landed in New York, I gathered my bags and looked across the aisle as I waited to exit. My eyes locked on the face of a blonde girl with shining eyes and an enthusiastic smile seated across from me, and I knew it was her - what's-her-name from the beach!

I reached my hand across the aisle and tapped her shoulder, "I think I met you-" I began, "on the beach!" she finished. We reintroduced - Emily is her name - and chatted all the way from the plane to the taxi line, there exchanging numbers and making plans to meet when I got back from Holland.

We met at John's Pizzeria, a restaurant in the heart of the theater district, normally bustling, but tonight relatively empty, making a seat at the bar and audible conversation easy to come by. An overly friendly policeman who "has worked tha area fa yeeahs, knows everybudy who's anybudy" at the nearby theaters saw opportunity in us girls and boasted, "if ya wanna go see Phantom tanight, I can get ya in." As perfectly unplanned opportunities go, the theater for Phantom of the Opera is located directly across the street from John's, and it's the only Broadway show with a Monday evening performance. Not ones to turn down an experience, we accepted immediately.

If waiting with the theater manager to be escorted to our free seats in the Producer's Box wasn't opportunistic enough of an experience, I had the surprise of encountering two friends from the South who were on a visit to New York. Shaking my head at the chance encounters leading to chance opportunity leading to more chance encounters, Emily and I laughed at this being the perfect randomly chanced upon show: it's one I had previously paid for and slept through, thus wanted to see again, and it's the first show she saw on Broadway - the one that made her fall in love with performing and prompted her to move to New York to pursue her Broadway dream.

Breathe Easy. Rest Well.

Sometimes the New York City air becomes stagnant; bus fumes and cab exhaust intermingle with the already over-recycled breathing air of millions of tourists, all trapped in the grid of concrete and maze of skyscrapers. If the city air doesn't suffocate you, then the exhausting pace of the always ticking New York minute will.

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Stepping off the train in Dieren, the surroundings are so refreshing I can't help but fill my lungs with a deep breath of air, but I'm quickly reminded the countryside of Holland has its own pollutants - the air punctuated by the smell of nearby pastures. The walk from the train station will cure the shock of nature for this city girl, the smells disappearing into the cold wind as we tread the uneven brick sidewalks toward the house.

The air, the sky, the time - here in Holland it all bears a unique awareness; distinctively different from any environment I've encountered in New York City or even Alabama. The local color being relaxed living, it's not uncommon to see close laid neighbors chatting in the street or enjoying a bike ride through the village-like town. Shops and restaurants in one direction, acres of pasture in the other - the worlds connected by an age-old ferry that, oddly enough for me, never suffers the impatience of a car's horn at its slow progress.

A week of rising with the Holland sun at 9:30 or 10 AM - my only alarm clock the bells of the town church chiming outside my window. The hazy morning sun glowing over the frosted fields shifts unnoticed during midday to burn low on the other side of the sky - a sunset hanging on the horizon that lasts all afternoon. Chirping geese pierce the crisp night air, the sky pitch black to reveal the same stars I can't see in the city.



The sun rising over the frozen fields of neighboring Olburgen and the still waters of the River IJssel - about 9:30 AM.

 

The view of the church clock - and the chilled rooftops - out my window. You'll have to imagine for yourself the sound of the bells chiming through the calm air.

A lake naturally frozen by the sub-zero Celsius temperatures, made even more enchanting with the Dutch skaters and lingering sunset.

Lovely Smile

"Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile."~William Cullen Bryant

The bright blue sky and the bursting autumn colors dazzled my eyes and enchanted my thoughts. The thick piles of leaves covering the ground beckoned me off the pathways to a world of shuffling, crunching and gathering. I bent to pick up an unusually large leaf, half vibrant green and half drained to yellow. Instead of dropping it back to the pile, I kept it and began gathering others that caught my eye - a radiant red, an orange the color of the setting sun, a pure yellow, a brownish red with edges almost purple!

As the collection of leaves in my hand grew, so did the people by my side. A girl about my age joined me in selecting some leaves for herself; we smiled, and I continued back to the path, on to find the next glorious autumn tree. I stooped to pick another leaf, and a man asked if it was good luck to pick up leaves. "I don't know, but they sure are pretty." Walking on, leaves in hand, another guy fell in step beside me and asked what I planned to do with the leaves. "Oh, I don't know, I just like them." He agreed and said it had been years since he stopped to really look at the leaves, much less pick them up and enjoy them. Several more people struck up conversations as I meandered through the idyllic scenery...each person and chat as varied as the leaves around me.

As I turned to leave Central Park, a fellow leaf looker said, "You have a lovely smile." I thanked him and went on my way with the beautiful autumn day smiling on me.

NYC "Hinge"

Happening only twice each year, the sun aligns with the streets of New York so that light fills all the streets at the same time. I'm not sure that is the exact explanation of the "Hinge" sunset phenomenon, but it was noteworthy enough for mention on the NBC World News from New York, prompting my mother to call and tell me to go look at it. I can't vouch that all the streets were lit with the sunset at once, but I can say it was the most glorious sky I have seen in a long time!

Spring in Sight

I look forward to the warm, sunny days of spring almost year round, and when those days arrive, I try my best to soak in every fleeting second of blossoming trees and sprouting flowers. Is it because these days are rare and short-lived that I love them so? Like birthdays, football games, vacations, time with a far-away friend, Girl Scout cookies - would these be loved as much if they could be enjoyed every day of the year? Or is it the anticipation, and then the need to savor the moment knowing the joy will soon be over?

Spring beauty at Stuyvesant Square Park as I walked home along 2nd Avenue from Lauren's new apartment.

Blossoming trees full of chirping birds at Stuyvesant Square Park.

The view along Central Park South is always beautiful, but it's particularly breathtaking when in bloom!

Tulips near Central Park...almost as perfect as the tulips in Holland.

A sidewalk tree box in the Upper East Side overflowing with flowers!

Park Avenue paradise.

Het mooiste lentepark ter wereld!

My love of tulips didn't necessarily begin while I was a student at the University of Alabama, but it definitely blossomed. Every April I was convinced Heaven must be right there in Tuscaloosa with all the cheerful, vibrant color smiling at me from the tulip beds popping up all around campus - the Quad, the lawn of the President's Mansion, the beds in front of Rose Administration, the planters around the dorms and classroom buildings.

But I think my tulip love began a bit earlier than college years, with my fascination for a song I learned in elementary school. I can't recite all the words now, (Elizabeth - help me remember!) but I do remember the hand motions and the tune:

"Look, there, in the gar-den bed,
Some-thing beau-ti-ful is grow-ing,
la-la-la-la-la-la-la,
TULIPS open to the sun!"

Sometime along the way I decided someday I just had to see fields of tulips blooming in their native Holland - windmills twirling in the distance optional. So you can imagine my thrill when my plane landed in Holland today, and I stepped into a whole world of tulips! Even the airport restrooms were in the spirit - larger than life 3-D tulips hung from the walls!

Damion met me the airport, and we headed directly to the Keukenhof Festival, the national tulip festival, known as het mooiste lentepark ter wereld or the most beautiful spring garden in the world!

The colors, variety and quality of the tulips and flower beds at the festival were more beautiful than I could have dreamed, and I often ran my finger along a silky blossom to feel its beauty and make sure it was real.


My dream came true with tulips and a windmill!

From the deck of the windmill - the grounds of Keukenhof extend far beyond what's visible in the picture!

Couldn't resist the clog!

One of the hundreds of pictures I took of the tulips! And not one picture looks alike! I love them all, but I especially love this one - "Three Sisters" as I call it.

These tulips are called "Manhattan" - how appropriate! It became a game of looking at the names and finding ones with special meaning to us.

Another favorite picture - these tulips are called "Inspiration".

The white of the tree was so pretty against the blue of the sky, and the green of the grass was so pretty against the white of the tree...and this picture is one of the funnier memories from our day at Keukenhof.

I love love love the long rows!

Hahaha! It's harder than it looks to walk over the top!

Oh my goodness! Doesn't it just take your breath away?! I wish I'd gotten more of the white tree blossoms in the picture, but you can see the "powdered sugar" on the ground as evidence of what's above!

Amazing that God can make so much beauty for us to enjoy!

I found the Golden Egg!

Normally I keep my face smashed into my pillow much later than 6:45 AM, but God must have sent me a nudge to wake up early this Easter morning and be amazed by the view out my window. It was actually more of a jolt than a nudge, because I popped right out of bed and onto the cold balcony to take a picture of the glowing golden moon! I imagine my jolt awake was similar to the one Mama delivered to Julie when she was a little girl at her play school Easter egg hunt. It makes me laugh every time I think about the jolting push - the image of poor little Julie falling to the ground and the determined and excited look that must have been on my mother's face. Mama, sorry to "out" you after all these years, but the world needs to know the shenanigans you're capable of pulling!

You see, Mama spotted the glorious, prize-winning golden egg laying unseen underneath a bush. Frantic to have Julie find it before the other little rugrats hunted into the area, Mama took Julie by the shoulder and pushed, er-urged her in the direction of the egg.

Doubled over with laughter at my thoughts of Julie with a mouthful of dirt and yelling up to Mama "Why did you push me?!", the story always ends there for me. I don't know if Julie did see the egg and claim victory, or if the fall brought her tears, causing a commotion and allowing time for another kid to run in there and grab the egg. If she did get the egg, what was the prize? And, Mama, was the prize worth compromising the safety of your eldest child?

Since the incident lives on as one of our favorite Easter memories, I'd say "you betcha" the push was worth it!

The moon was glowing so big and bright, followed by a brilliantly colorful sunrise. I was awake in time to enjoy it for about 10 minutes before the moon dropped behind the buildings and the sky faded to blue:




The sky was lighter than it's showing in this picture.

The sunrise over the East River.

Thanks for the Easter box filled with goodies, Mama and Daddy!

February Finally Freezing

After receiving NO snow during the first month of the year, February has made up for it with several snowy days. The weathermen distinguish the amount and severity of each snowfall as "wintry mix" or "snow shower" or "snow storm"...but to this girl from Alabama, snow is SNOW!

It's so exciting to wake up and snow already be falling! This picture was taken out of my apartment window on the morning of the "snow storm" on Friday, Feb. 22 - it had been snowing since 5 AM, and rooftops were already very much covered!

Living in the city means there really are no "snow days"...the first thing I saw on my way to work was this little cutie getting pulled along the sidewalk! Although not as fun as a little red sled to pull me to work, I was glad to have my red galoshes to jump over the slushy snowy muck at the crosswalks!

It finally stopped snowing around 1 PM, so I went around the corner from my office to see Madison Square Park. On a normal day, the Empire State Building is easily seen in the sky above the trees.

No resting on park benches today!

The Shake Shack in the snow...and still, the people come!

The fountain near Shake Shack, and the only bench with untouched snow - so perfectly thick!

A snowman as tall as me! People making snow angels and throwing snow balls...too bad I had to go back to work!

This red building on the corner of 23rd Street and 5th Avenue caught my eye in the snow...I don't think I've ever even noticed it! The Flatiron Building is to the left of the picture.

On Tuesday, February 12 - just a "snow shower" day...the Empire State Building from the 6th floor patio of my office.

Later that evening after work...the Shake Shack in lights...with people ordering burgers and shakes in the freezing cold and wind!

The Flatiron Building

A Saturday morning stroll in Central Park on February 23rd.

A beautiful sunny Sunday at The Pond in Central Park...this is my favorite area in any season!

Kids young and old sledding near The Pond. The bigger boy with the red sled is apologizing to the smaller boy for not catching him as he slid over the drop off they are standing on and slammed into the concrete sidewalk!

The frozen Pond.

Bethesda Fountain near the Boathouse.

Such pretty views around Bethesda Fountain!

The beautiful snow makes the cold temperatures worth every layer of clothes, every wind-induced tear down the cheek and every inch of my big poofy stovepipe coat!