A bottle of red, a bottle of white. I'll meet you anytime you want....

There is a sweet little wine shop in town--they feature boutique wines, imported from all over, and have a very well informed, friendly staff. I usually don't shop for rare wines --I don't want to fall in love with something I can't have over and over again.

But, this store is so great, I gave in. I started trying unique wines that may or may not ever be available again. I figured I would be better served to just drink and enjoy without worrying about replicating anything I might discover.


It has been a lot like letting Ithaca in to my heart. I have been savoring the gorgeous scenery and charming architecture and have met some really wonderful people (and furry friends), and am getting choked up thinking about leaving already.

But I am trying to learn from my wine lesson…so I will continue to have these adorable kids over, attend the tailgates of the funny guys from the business school, and hang out with the other moms of boys, bonding over bruises and basketball.

And I won’t be afraid to grab a special bottle of wine, go picnic by a waterfall in the middle of the week, and enjoy the amazing orange, red and gold trees...pouring an extra large glass for one of my new friends (furry or not).

http://www.redfeetwine.com

Bible for Bitches

This month’s issue of Cosmo has a black plastic cover over it in the magazine rack. The kind that the airport uses to hide Playboy covers. What could Wegmans possibly be trying to protect us from?

“Bad Girl Issue—For Sexy Bitches Only”

This ought to be good.

“What He Thinks During Sex—The Crazy, Dirty, Worried, and Yes, Sweet Stuff That Goes Through His Head When You Two Get Naked”

I’ll bet there are no Crock-Pot recipes in there.

“Foreplay Men Crave—Touch His Secret Erotic Spot (Surprise: It doesn’t Rhyme With Shmenis)”

This is news?

I snap a photo for the blog and my best friend buys the issue so she can give me the cover to reference.

Me: You don’t need to spend five bucks, I can just jot down the article titles.

BF: It’s okay, I got it.

Either she is still the master of efficiency or she secretly wants to know more about “8 Things Guys Notice Instantly.”

I didn’t argue with her, it wasn't that long ago we were taking quizzes out of it to see if we knew the difference between a G-Spot and G-String. There are some things your mother doesn't teach you, they don't print in text books and you can't figure out on your own. Even though I suspect those articles were light on insight, who am I to second guess the self-proclaimed “bible for fun and fearless females?”

Brother, Can you Spare a Drink?

It was Homecoming this past weekend at Cornell…tailgates, football, and parties. We had spent most of Saturday evening at our sons’ school auction fundraiser, but as we were driving home by campus, Husband asked me if I wanted to stop by the “house” to say hi. They were having an open house and lots of alumni were there. Walking through his old fraternity stirred up all kinds of thoughts (pretty and perverse).


Mostly, I was amazed by how time changes everything and doesn’t change a thing. As we entered the party, everyone was seated to dinner (it was a formal night) and one of the brothers was leading the room in song:

Here's to brother (name), brother (name), brother (name)...
Here's to brother (name), who's with us tonight...
He's happy, he's jolly, he's horny, by golly!
Here's to brother (name), who's with us tonight...
So... drink, motherf*cker -- drink, motherf*cker -- drink, motherf*cker... (repeat until the bottle is empty!)

Those boys had the same gleam in their eye that every fraternity guy I have ever met has had—sort of like the familiar look you see in a sweet little puppy’s face—excitement, joy, and a desire to rub up against just about anything.

All I could think as they were passing the bottle of Jack around was, “I wonder if they worry about swine flu?”

Semper Fi

Me: What type of birthday party would you like this year?

Charlie: Nerf gun.

Me: Excuse me?

Charlie: All of my friends come over and we have a big battle with Nerf guns.

Me: I am not sure that is such a great idea.

Charlie: We’ll wear protective eye gear, Mom.

Me: Can I make a theme cake?



So I Googled “Nerf Gun Party” and found some cool ideas and in no time was able to masquerade a war as a birthday party for a 10-year-old.

Hasbro is brilliant as a marketer. They have these game kits they call “Dart Tag." We all know it’s mortal combat! We outfitted each boy with a Nerf gun, Velcro ammunition, protective eye wear, and vest that the bullets stick to…



While my husband hid upstairs as the sniper and helped Sam (5) and one of the other younger brothers make their bunker, I made Charlie’s favorite dinner for 8 boys. (This required grilling outside in a full coat.)


I was thinking to myself, as I shuffled my iPod and sipped some wine, it was the first time I stood in my kitchen while a pack of boys raced around my house, squealing, laughing and banging into things, that I didn’t feel the need to holler at them to knock it off one bit.

Now all we have left are the thank you notes.

October?!?

7:00am: "Mom! Mom! Look outside!"

Holy moley frijole.

7:30am: "Can we pleaeeeeease walk to school?"


Sure, why not?


7:45am We have an exciting trip to school.

8:15am: I return home to find the house all locked up, husband gone to breakfast meeting. No cell phone. No house keys. This place is sealed tighter than a maximum security prison. So as I am walking around the house, trying to find a window I can climb through, I start to notice all the other things that may have been surprised by the snow, too.






8:45am: I see that there is a phone in our sunroom so I am able to call husband and catch him right before his meeting.

9:00am: "Thank you for rescuing me. I am sorry about this. I know it’s lame I don’t carry my house keys."

Husband: "No problem. You’re lucky we live in Ithaca where everything is only 10 minutes away!"

Yes, lucky me.

Satori

Turkey Tail Mushrooms, Buttermilk Falls State Park

How do I begin to explain the gift I have been given? I should do myself a favor and write something less precious.

Sapsucker Woods

I have been blessed in so many ways. I am thankful for the big, bold brush strokes that have defined my life: loving parents; generous friends; earnest children; and a patient husband.

Cayuga Heights

There are also the fine details I constantly remind myself to not take for granted: good health (both physical and mental, and in my family, that is saying a lot), good fortune, and a killer sense of direction (considered much more valuable before GPS).

Catharine Creek Valley

But the gift I am talking about is a flash of enlightenment. Zen Buddhism calls it satori. Freud called it an epiphany. It’s one of those zingers, when all of a sudden everything makes sense. It’s what separates us from the beasts. When we realize how powerful we are and how everything boils down to the choices we make. The big ones and the little ones. Some of us like to pretend we are lab rats that have no control over our lives, but, whether we meditate, take Psychology 101, pray to a higher spirit, or get into a plane crash and then live to tell about it, some of us, if we are fortunate enough, some of us, one day wake up and realize that we hold all our own cards.

Teeter Farm

When my husband asked if I would move to Ithaca for a year, how could I have possibly known what a treasure trove would be coming my way? I resisted at first, afraid to uproot from a life we worked so hard to build. It was scandalous, like we were running away, couldn’t handle the heat, needed a break.

F.R. Newman Arboretum

But my husband is a visionary, planning and plotting and he has been tending this garden of a dream for many years. As I looked into the eyes of my burnt out business world warrior, road weary from years of putting on the dog, I made a decision that has paid off in spades.

Arts Quad, Cornell University

The nature, the quiet, the gentleness of Ithaca over took all of us and has been caressing my family ever since. Facts are, I didn’t realize how crazy and overscheduled we were until we moved. We were so jacked up on work, travel, tennis lessons, basketball teams, fund raisers and social events, that there was no way we could hang loose enough to frog hunt, star gaze or read all afternoon.

Buck Settlement Cemetery

Most people have to use incredible strength and/or go through something painful to get here—a divorce, or worse, a death, maybe losing an important job. I was presented with an opportunity to rethink how I spend my time without having to sever a limb.

Fall Creek

I might not have the final destination all figured out, but I can tell you, it’s a journey worth traveling.

Urban Legend

I had committed to bringing an “egg dish” to the teacher appreciation breakfast this morning at my sons’ school by 7:30. All of the sane mothers left muffins in the office yesterday afternoon, but I wanted to REALLY show my appreciation and bring a hot quiche! Well, we woke up at 7:18…

After I handed my children uncooked turkey dogs for breakfast, stuffed lunch money into their pockets, hollered at them to put their shoes on in the car, I started tearing around the neighborhood, dodging wildlife, and praying I did not skid out in the rain, I thought to myself, “What is wrong with me?" I started beating myself up out loud, “I should have set the alarm! I should have volunteered to bring something easier!” Charlie, my 9-year-old, said, “Or, you should not worry about it.” I made eye contact through the rear-view mirror, “I am really sorry I rushed you guys around this morning. I should know better.” Sam, my 5-year-old, shrugs, happy to have so much action so early in the morning. Charlie looks at me, “So you made a bad choice. No big deal. You can’t always make the right one. Mostly you make good ones, Mom.”

Somehow we made it. I practically threw the hot quiche at the PTA president on my way in to the building, hustled the boys to their classrooms, doled out kisses, jackets and backpacks before the bell rang and even had time to greet the principal in a pseudo-calm manner. As I headed outside, feeling much less frazzled, I realized I had forgotten to put on a raincoat or bring an umbrella for myself. Even though it was still raining, I didn’t mind one bit. I took a deep breath of the damp, refreshing air, slicked my hair back behind my ears and thought to myself, “I am one lucky over sleeper.”