Saturday, February 9, 2013

Chinese New Year 2013

February 9, 2013

It's the eve of one my favorite holidays of the year, Chinese New Year. We are entering the Year of the Snake, a significant year for Gena, Georgia, Larry, and Ellen. I had never considered what it meant that they are all snakes. Here's what my book says about the snake personality: Philosopher, theologian, political wizard, wily financier - the Snake person is the deepest thinker and enigma of the Chinese cycle. S/he is endowed with an inborn wisdom of his/her very own; a mystic in his/her own right. Graceful and soft-spoken, s/he loves good books, food, music, the theater; s/he will gravitate toward all the finer things in life. The most beautiful women and powerful men tend to be born under this sign. So if you are one of the Snake people, you are in good company. Gena is the fire snake and shares this sign with Schubert, John F. Kennedy and Indira Gandhi. Everyone else is a water snake, a sign also claimed by Brahms and Mao Tse-tung.

We have come through the double blizzard that gripped the northeast corridor last night into a sunny, brilliant blue sky afternoon. During a walk to get the last fixings for a New Year's hotpot, the 12-18 inches of snow on the ground was the perfect acoustical cushion for the unusually active congregation of birds chattering up in the trees. The blanket of snow everywhere reassures me that my recent obsession with crocheting all the yarns leftover from projects or purchased because I just couldn't resist the touch into blankets is simply a seasonal inspiration. Eventually, the snow will disappear and I am sure that along with it my urge to crochet will disappear too. I'm on my third blanket.

In preparation for New Year's eve dumplings, I have been reading Grace Lin's Dumpling Days. It's her childhood story of visiting Taiwan to see what her parents refer to as "our homeland." Of course, Pacy, the narrator of the story is not easily convinced since she is an English-speaking, American-born Chinese girl. The story is filled with details that remind me how much we loved our few years in Taiwan.

To all the Snake people a special Happy New Year. 新 年 快 樂!




Thursday, November 1, 2012

Hurricane Sandy, November 1, 2012

It's the fourth day since the east coast was hit by Hurricane Sandy. The storm made landfall along the Jersey coast and we felt the effects in New York starting Sunday night. Around 6pm, Monday, we lost power on Tibbett Avenue. Tuesday night Emma and I moved her queen mattress to the living room and we built a fire in the fireplace. Wednesday night we all went to dinner at Tom and Rachel's and returned home with more wood for another fire. Con Ed says it could be another week before Riverdale gets any repair service. Or did they say it will be at least a week before we see Con Ed in this neighborhood?

Monday we put away all the loose parts in the garden - chairs, tools, pots. The wind was high up in the trees most of Monday morning and early afternoon. By evening it had moved down to the ground though there was only light rain. We never did get much of a downpour as expected while the tidal waves along the coast were much larger than anticipated. When the power went out on Monday we had just finished watching an episode of Homeland. The air in the house was intense. The wind outside was constant.

Tuesday we helped move some large branches out of the yard. The gardeners came through and cleaned up most of the tree debris by noon. We were lucky not to lose any trees around the house. The only loss was the trellis I had rebuilt after the old one collapsed during the summer. The rest of the day we cleaned. Emma and I made our way through the pantry, the tea cabinet, and the liquor cabinet. We filled three bags of trash which are still sitting in the kitchen with no where to go. It's not clear when NYC will start collecting trash again. We took a walk down the street and only made it as far as the bend to Manhattan College. A power pole came down on a car that was parked there. Turns out it's Samiyrah's car. We walked the other direction up the street toward 246th Street and stopped just before the school driveway. The acorn tree outside the business office, the tree everyone complained about in the fall for dropping (or having help from squirrels dropping) acorns on the car hoods and denting them, came down on the power line, brought down all the wires with it and cracked the pole. The street is dark. Con Ed was on the corner for a while, but when they left the corner of Tibbett and 246th was wrapped in caution tape and the power has remained off. The wires are draped to the ground all down the block.

Tuesday night Tom went up to Cold Spring to see his house. The Hudson overflowed and they had two feet of water in the first floor; two feet of salt water. The floors buckled and the first floor needs to be rebuilt. Lost everything not up on a shelf including many of the antiques and autographed Hudson River history books. While he was cleaning up in Cold Spring, Rachel had a few families over for dinner in Riverdale. Their house has power even though much of the campus does not.

Wednesday we ventured farther and made it over to Johnson Avenue for breakfast at Cafe Blue. As we passed by the downed electric pole we noticed that it, the wires and the car had been wrapped in yellow caution tape. We are catching on that this is Con Ed-speak for we see you, but we'll be back later. Shopped as though we were bringing supplies back to a cave: a new flashlight and headlamp for Greg, Halloween candy for the eyeball bowl, and candles. We noticed the post office was open and came home to two pieces of junk mail. Tom and Rachel grilled dinner and the house was filled with the post-trick or treating energy of all the kids. The bigger excitement was when they broke a glass vase and Tom had to take out his EMT first aid kit to apply a band aid to one child's cut. Greg came to dinner this time and Marcio drove him and Emma home with two bundles of wood for the fire place. The Moreira's are also without power.

Wednesday afternoon we had an administrative meeting in Tom's office. There was heat which made it easy to think about solutions. After years of trying to de-intensify a calendar that only seemed to get more and more intense with activities, we talked about restricting school time to school when we reopen next week; having the students go to class and then go home at 3:15pm dismissal. Is this back to basics? An attempt to remember why we have school?

Today is Thursday, day four, and school is closed through the weekend. The refrigerator is now warmer than the air temperature and the air in the house is cooler than outside. Bundled up indoors it's easy to forget it's fall outside, not winter. That's a lucky thing. We're hoping to get a generator soon so we can have heat and hot water. Right now that would make a big difference. The news from the City isn't that hopeful as they try to get the subway running again. This is the second time in two years that they've shut the system down for the weather. The mayor says the system can't handle the extreme effects of global warming.

It didn't seem on Sunday that this would be a transformative event, but it feels that way now. Is it possible that New York City will never be the same? Have we revealed weaknesses that magnify the geographic size and population and make it a city that can't sustain itself? What has changed that the mayor now says our advice is that you stay safe because we are not able to come to you in the next 24 hours. Con Ed won't get to you for 7-10 days.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Yuki, October 16, 2011

Today Yuki, our sweet companion cat, died of kidney failure. She woke us up at 6am every morning, waited by her food dish to be fed, and called us to bed each evening. She sat on our suitcases whenever we packed to go anywhere and greeted us at the door when we returned. It's very quiet without you, Yuki. Missing you.



Monday, August 29, 2011

Hurricane Irene, day two

We were skeptical heading into Saturday evening. At 4:55pm Irene had not yet arrived and we started to lose confidence in our preparedness. It was not being put to the test. 5:00pm, still no Irene. And then, at 5:11pm, just in time for the 15-minute no-show rule of college classrooms, Irene arrived with steady rain. The winds came later and when I woke at 4am, Sunday, to check on the state of our one leak-bucket (about a third full at that time), the winds were all coming from the east. The ground on the garden side of the house was soaked. By morning, the rain had stopped and for a brief hour or so later in the morning the sun peeked through an opening in the cloud cover. The winds continued and shifted to the west. They  howled and whistled in the treetops following a circular path until evening, but despite gathering thick clouds there wasn't any more rain. The sky was the Sunday show.
I ventured out with my camera in the afternoon and captured a stately fir tree blowing in the wind. All those branches catching the wind and the trunk remaining straight and steady. I was in awe especially as I had attempted tree pose in my new yoga wake-up and could barely get my arms up in the air away from the not-so-steady core of my body. The pear tree made it's statement by offering up most of its fruit.
  
Michael Pollan talks about the reciprocal relationship between plants and animals. He describes how plants have figured out ways to entice animals and humans to do what's necessary to ensure the survival of the plant species. In return, animals receive the nourishment, shelter and pleasure of plants. I'm sure there was a message in this last extraordinary weather event. Something that has led to a full clean-up of tree and garden debris in preparation for fall. The flooding and fallen trees all along the East Coast may be a reminder that we only borrow the land for habitation and travel and that nature will determine in the end if and where we belong. Getting out of nature's way was a wise choice in the decisions made in NYC and shutting down the City for a historic 24 hours, emptying the streets and the skies, will be nature's legacy. The mayor didn't have a choice.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Hurricane Irene, August 27, 2011

It is 11:59am and we are waiting for Hurricane Irene. It is a little like waiting for a scary relative to arrive, someone close enough that there is no real choice but to welcome them, but unpredictable enough so as not to know exactly how to prepare for the visit. We have done everything, but tie Gregory down to a chair. He has been in high alert for several days and thanks to him we have basic staples: coffee, candy and books. I will admit that I have been teasing him for days about his high alert behavior, but when he reported this morning that Starbucks is closed...Starbucks closed on a Saturday morning???...I, too, moved into high gear and wrapped the fig trees. Suddenly all the sweet plants of summer gardening seemed so vulnerable: the sunflowers that have finally created blossoms, the green tomatoes waiting to ripen, the corn that has just burst forth from tall skinny stalks. Now, at 12:04pm, the MTA has shut down the subways and buses and NYC is still. There are sandbags at the edge of all the steps on campus to slow the water down. The air pressure is heavy and we are just waiting. It's raining.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Easter morning, April 24, 2011

Visits from your children are the same whether you are the mother or the daughter. Maybe it's visits from daughters, but I don't know. Mothers of sons will have to comment. Last week all three daughters were home and we had many good meals together and some gentle reminders. In particular a light comment on the feng shui hiding amidst our many collections and collectables. So yesterday, in a spirit of greeting Easter morning with a fresh new outlook, we made our first move to obtaining a flat screen TV, the reward at the end of the tunnel. We moved a major piece of furniture out of the living room corner now designated for the flat screen. Once that move was made, others must follow so we are discovering feng shui in every nook and cranny of the house. It is definitely a feeling of renewal.

A greater revelation and discovery, however, occurred this Easter morning while gardening. As I continued my battle with the bamboo, I took the approach that my friend Justine always referred to as "ripping." I have ripped out seams and ripped up paper, but this was my first full-arm attempt to rip out roots and stems. I realized that after years of defending every living plant in the garden I had lost patience with this subversive and invasive plant. The garden bamboo, Fargesia murielae, has a tricky underground network that allows it to surface anywhere and everywhere in the garden. It is, in my way of thinking, relentless. So I cleared the herb garden and now it awaits planting, a hopeful empty space. More feng shui breezing through.



December 17, 2012

I thought I was so wise when I finally understood that after the baby is born things never go back to previous notions of "normal." Waiting for things to return to normal was futile, but the new normal, each time, turned out to be wonderfully different; sometimes a little more chaotic, but always richer and more fun. Our family grew into each "normal" and enjoyed it until the next big change.

2012 has been a year of not-so-normal. Starting with the arrival of Little Ruby, who, along with Big Ruby, her great-grandmother, now bookend our family. Emma returned home to take a job with UBS and take a break from graduate school. Though it was intended to be a short stay, it turned into an extended stay leading up to a long-term position with UBS in London.