Tag: Winter

  • ODDS and ENDS: It’s Cold, Life with an Oxford Shirt, and Yellow Cake

    ODDS and ENDS: It’s Cold, Life with an Oxford Shirt, and Yellow Cake

    (Tin Roof! Rusted!)

    It’s winter now. That was fast. Seems like last week, it was still Autumn around here. And I don’t just mean because it was Thanksgiving back on last Thursday. No, there were still colored leaves on trees. Then, this morning, it was 21 out, and all the leaves were gone. Just bare trees, and cold winds.

    My mother used to always buy me blue Oxford Cloth Button Down shirts growing up. I hated the shirt style. It seemed too formal for a kid to wear, and if you did have one on and went to school, the other kids would make fun of you – call you a nerd. Though I always had one in my closet, just in case when I need to wear a tie. When I was in college, and hated doing laundry, I started wearing the Oxford shirts again, and on some level, it felt comfortable this time around. I am sure it had everything to do with no one calling me a nerd. I kept Oxfords in the rotation when I started working professionally, as they looked smart with a tie, but also not too formal, like I wasn’t trying to dress up. Now, it’s what I want to be in all the time. Not sure what that says about me.

    Sometimes I just want a box-mix yellow cake with chocolate icing for desert. I know that yellow cake doesn’t really have a unique flavor – I think it’s vanilla, right? But right now, I really want to have that lite, spongy sheet pan of a cake. And the icing as well. That cream cheese icing with coco powder. Nothing special, or ground breaking, just solid great tasting icing that isn’t too sweet, and with a slight hint of biter chocolate. That cake feels like the best comfort food I could have right now. Maybe ice cream would be more comforting, but it’s too cold for that. No, I want right out of the over yellow cake.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Right on Time, Sweaters, and Well Said

    (Line up to the mind cemetery…)

    So, we have had a good old fashion winter up here in New York City. It’s cold all the time, been snowing regularly, and again it’s been very cold. Now, this week hasn’t been the coldest week this winter, as we did have a couple of days in the single digits in January, but in the 20’s with wind, that’s rather chilly, too. And with the temp being so low, it happened in our house; all three of us on Wednesday said the same thing – “I’m ready for Spring.” Looking at the calendar, I see that it’s late February, which means we are right on time for the declaration for the seasons to change. Honestly, you could set a watch by it. Same time every winter, we say the same thing – “I’m ready for the seasons to change.”

    Though the downside of wanting the seasons to change is that the clock has started ticking for the time I have left with my sweaters. The cardigans, pullovers, jumpers, fisherman’s, and Irish sweaters; I do love them all. I will even through in sweatshirts, as I received a few for Christmas, and they are awesome. Sure, there is still a lot of cold weather to get through, and even chilly nights in Spring. But the clock is ticking.

  • I Like Coats, Scarves, and Gloves

    It’s cold in New York City, and I love it.

    For years now, winter around here hasn’t felt like winter. More like a “Perpetual End of Autumn” that carried on till the start of April. At least one Nor’easter would blow through every year, and dump four to six inches of snow on us, but within a week it would all be gone, and the reign of light coats would return. This was such a reliable pattern that the wife and I started to wonder if the winters of our first years in the City were a thing of memory.

    But starting Christmas week, the winters of the past returned; Snow fell and stayed on the ground, the temperature hung around freezing, and a feeling needing to be wrapped up on the couch was ever present.

    Perhaps I am a bit romantical when it comes to winter. I did grow up in Texas, where it rarely got below forty degrees in the deepest part of winter, and just the hint of snow was enough to close down the schools and services. I think it is true that most people are drawn to the thing they are most denied, and for me that was cold weather.

    For you see, my whole family was born and raised in Illinois. All, except me. I mean, I was born there, but we moved south when I was six months old, so my experience was the opposite of everyone else. My family would talk about snowball fights, building snowmen and snow-forts. There were foreign chores of shoveling out driveways and sidewalks. Keeping blankets, kitty litter, and chocolate bars in the car just in case. I remember seeing a pair of my father’s old snow boots, black rubber, that were up on a self in the garage, where they only thing they did was gather dust and become a relic of his other life.

    When I moved to New York back in 2006, it briefly snowed on my first Thanksgiving here, and it was close to the most magical thing that ever happened to me. That first snowstorm the following January was a moment of excitement, but also hammered home how unprepared I was for winter. I only had a Texas winter coat, which wasn’t a winter coat. No snow boots, but I did have a huge scarf that a good friend had given to me before I moved. I soon got a peacoat from an Army/Navy store on 16th and 6th, and still own it to this day. I have gone through several different pairs of snow shoes, and I am proud to tell you that I also still have that original scarf I was given – As it is rather long and thick, I pull it out to wrap my face on exceptionally cold days.

    The last time I talked to my dad, about a week ago, he was telling me of the coming winter storm headed his way in Texas. He dreaded it, and honestly, I think it annoyed him highly that it will get so very cold. “I moved down here to get away from all of that,” he told me, “I had enough cold to last me several lifetimes.” When he got the opportunity in his life, he ran to where it was hot, and took all of along with him.

  • Personal Review: Five Tuesdays in Winter, by Lily King

    (I will be SPOILING this book.)

    I’ve been heavy into reading novels of late, and as such, I thought I should take a turn and read a story collection. I received Five Tuesdays in Winter, by Lily King, as a Christmas gift. It was selected off a book list that I have, which I add to whenever I hear about a title that sounds interesting. Sadly, I don’t remember where I heard about Five Tuesdays in Winter, which spurned me to add it to the list, but for whatever reason it got there, I am glad.

    It was a nice, easy book to read, and I feel like if you describe any book in that matter, it comes across as patronizing. It’s as if seriousness, authenticity, and drama has to be heavy, labored, and challenging to a reader. If I didn’t have responsibilities and a child to look after, I think I could have finished this book in a day, and not missed a beat of King’s writing.

    The collection is made up of ten stories, which feels like the proper number in a collection, or songs on an album. All the stories were good, and, not surprising, some were better than others. The collection starts off with a Murder’s Row of five compelling stories; “Creature,” “Five Tuesdays in Winter,” “When in the Dordogne,” “North Sea,” and “Timeline.” Then there is a lull with “Hotel Seattle,” and “Waiting for Charlie,” which are the two weakest of the stories. Then the final three pieces, “Mansard,” South,” and “The Man at the Door” are all solid works, and help the collection end on a strong note.

    King does an excellent job of getting to the point, describing what needs to be known, and not wasting words. I could not only see, but feel the flowers in the front of the house Carol grew up in, and was still owned by her rehab prone father in “Creature.” But, I also appreciated the way that King allowed the character’s actions to speak, indicating their emotions to us, showing us what was motivating them. This was most evident in the title track, “Five Tuesdays in Winter,” where conversation adverse Mitchell’s growing infatuation is revealed only through his slight observations and gestures.

    And what I really enjoyed, and felt encouraged by, is that there was nothing shocking for the sake of shock, or life and death in these stories. For the most part, I found that the compelling drama of each story was more about discovery in a personal truth, or the acknowledgment of a change in the direction of one’s life had occurred. In solid, confident hands, like King’s, these moments are profound in their apparent simplicity; discovering the capacity of love again, or having the strength to stand up for one’s self, or that summer when adulthood emerged from adolescence, or my favorite – you have to have the courage to slay your fear. (Maybe even bury it in the back yard.)

    It was refreshing to read stories that had big truths in small packages. I have been reading so many short stories of late, that I am beginning to get desensitized to the amount of death, or uncomfortable/aggressive sex that happens. It’s like the “trauma plot” in stories has become the issue du jour of late. In Five Tuesdays in Winter, Lily King shows real courage in creating her characters that live lives of grace and dignity which not only shows she respects her characters, but also acknowledges that her characters will continue to grow in these worlds. This collection left me feeling surprisingly optimistic about life, which is a delight to experience in the cold gloom of winter.

  • Thoughts on the Coming Holidays

    Last night, before we went out Trick or Treating, we had dinner with another couple and their kid. As we were catching up, we inevitably started talking about the rush of the coming Holidays. Thanksgiving, and for them Hanukah, followed by Christmas, then New Years, and both of our kids then have their birthdays about a month after New Year’s. October to the end of January is really a marathon for us.

    But it is a wonderful time of year. Walking around last night, as the kids went from stoop to stoop asking for candy, it was a cool but not cold night. There was a crush of kids, always is, but in that chaos was such an eternal innocents to the costumes and candy, and the façade of a world where all children need is to ask for candy, and they receive it. I envy the people who are able to sit in front of their homes, wine or cocktail in hand, and just be generous, and a little tipsy. The changing of the leaves around here has been slow in coming, which created a canopy of yellowish and orange on those tight little streets.

    After we got home, and were able to get the kid in bed, the wife asked me when we should start taking the Halloween decorations down? Usually we take then down on the upcoming weekend, as we do have Thanksgiving ornamentation that needs to be placed around the apartment. Leaves and gourds, and lots of orange garland.

    I’m trying to stay positive and upbeat during this time of year. The Holidays still have a tinge of sadness for me. This will be the fifth season without my Mom. I feel her in all the things that we do and celebrate, and I can’t help but now think about how “this might be the last year” with certain other family members. I’m trying to find the positive in this realization, as maybe enjoying the time we have should be the paramount concern.

    But as such, the marathon is on. The Holidays are afoot! If I’m a good boy, I still might get my martinis and lobster rolls for Christmas!

    (Speaking of gifts! If you are thinking of getting me something this year, make it a “like” or a “share” or even a “comment.” But if you would really want to warm my heart, then follow my blog. Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays!)