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Motion Potion

Remnants of the past linger. Tucked away on a shelf, stashed for safekeeping in a box. A t-shirt, a photo, a poem. Not that we would be any different if these physical artifacts were to disappear. At least, for some, like an unused muscle, the memory is encrypted. Like a computer chip, no matter how many times you try to delete something, the bytes of our past remain intact.

Forever the same, no matter how distant. But they remain. Some bring a smile, some a tear. Sometimes both.

And so I try to clean out the closets of time. To make room for what’s to come. And so often, these objects move from the discard pile right back into the keeper pile. Like a vine clinging to a tree—what’s the harm if it can exist symbiotically – if not symbolically?

Would it make a difference if it all disappeared? No. In my brain, in my heart, I will always remember. And hopefully, smile.

Why I haven’t baked Zucchini Bread since 1994…or, don’t ever leave the house with the oven on

Yesterday I was reading a friend’s blog, including fabulous pictures of the most wonderful looking zucchini bread I’ve seen in a long time….*sigh*. It caused me to reminisce about zucchini breads I’ve baked and loved.

So the local power company was ‘upgrading’ infrastructure. Meaning: for 9 months (yes, I could have given birth…) they dug and drilled (from 10 PM till 4 AM I must add) – right outside my window. I often went downstairs at about 2 AM and offered them a cup of coffee.

Not to digress….a few stormy days in the middle of this adventure, and the hole they left uncovered collected rainwater, which in retrospect, I should have bailed out and used to wash my hair, haha.

So I’ve got a lovely zucchini bread baking in the oven, and decide to run down to the basement, for 30 seconds to dump some garbage. Yeah, right. I get in the elevator and the moment the elevator door closes and it starts its descent – lights flash and go out, full stop. I’m stuck.

It was dark. Very dark. But I managed to hit the emergency button (a pure stroke of genius, don’t you think?). Lean on it till the leftover juice runs out. But as luck would have it, my neighbor comes out, and I hear her calling my name. I call back. Where are you she says. In the elevator I answer. Crap.

Good neighbor walks down 6 flights in pitch black to get super, who walks up 6 flights to ask if I’m ok. Yes, I squeak. 911 is called and while we wait for some of NY’s finest to come & help rescue me, we chatter. Yes, I’m really ok, I say. But can you do me a favor? Anything they respond.

Now I have to admit I’ve got something in the oven. I know, I know – didn’t your mother ever tell you always to check that the oven is off before you go out?

Deep breath, then I say, could you turn my oven off – and take the zucchini bread out? Silence. I tell them I don’t want to burn the house down, on top of being stuck in the elevator. So they walk down again to get my spare key, and yes, up again.

All’s well that ends well, an hour later I’m free and we celebrate my release with a feast of warm zucchini bread. It was delish, I have to confess.

But I learned a couple of valuable things that day. I’m not afraid to get stuck in an elevator (as long as I’m alone & don’t have to calm anyone else down but myself). And don’t ever leave the house before turning off the oven.

And I know – someday – I’ll be ready to bake zucchini bread again.

A Few More Notes on the Toilet….

Ok, there will be those who think I have an obsession with toilets and related activities. You know who you are. Please let me assure you this is not true – it’s just that I’ve always found a humorous twist in the symbolism associated with toilets.

For example, I totally cracked up this summer when the Olympics were on. When one of the stadium’s was unveiled to the public, and described as the ‘Bird’s Nest’, well tell me I’m wrong, but the aerial view quite clearly reminded me of a giant toilet.

A beautiful silver one. And since I’m in the market for a new soft seat, well you get the idea.

Or the day my toilet overflowed one morning when I was racing out of the house at 6 A.M. to catch a flight for a day trip that I did not want to take, but had to. Ironically, I got locked in an airport bathroom stall on my return…let’s just say it was poetic justice.

But I digress. My thoughts on the toilet (not literally, thank you) relate to the state of the economy.

If only a good flush or two would solve the problems – ok, this is a huge mess, so it might even take a few more.

Alas, it’s not that simple. But we can try to keep laughing along the way, yes?

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A Trip to Nashville....

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a country music fan…but a recent junket into the heartland of America showed me there’s a lot more to Nashville than country music.

My plane landed and I met up with Liz from Wickedly Chic, claimed baggage, and proceeded to explore the area near the airport looking for a cell phone charger – but that’s another tale for another day.
Back to airport to pick up Amy from Charming Sam, and off we went to our base for the next two days -- the Hampton Inn & Suites, right near Vanderbilt University – with very comfy beds, free breakfast and a big box of left behind cell phone chargers. (Thank goodness!)

Our first supper in the land of sweet Southern soulful cooking took us to Rotier’s – a total hole in the wall establishment that has been there for over 80 years – and with any luck will be there a lot longer. Had the best fried chicken I’ve had in my life, complete with real mashed potatoes & gravy (not the add water and mix with a fork kind!) and fried zucchini. Practically licked the plate, but saved that for later – go for dessert at Coco – where you will have a totally decadent dessert experience.

The next day it was off to the Escape Spa – perfectly named. And in my spa experience (which is humbly vast) – one of the best spas I’ve been to. Serene & beautiful all the way – truly an oasis. Jeremiah removed every ache & pain with a massage combining Swedish, deep tissue & stretching techniques – and my normally ticklish toes defied me while they had an ultra pampering pedicure.

By now we’re hungry – ok – ravenous would be a better word. So it was off to the Loveless Café to meet Carol Fay “The Biscuit Lady” and have another down home, downright fabulous meal. Barbecue that melted in my mouth, and fudge pie, oh my!

Bodies pampered and appetites satisfied, it was off to explore a wonderfully restored town called Franklin. Great little shops, and a lazy ambiance. Like a picture postcard calling “wish you were here”. But the best shop of all was down the road – Kandle Kitchen boasts an extraordinary assortment of scents and sizes – and you can get regular candles & a great selection of soy candles too. I tried a few of each – will keep you posted, but let me tell you, my mango candle smells like a grove.

After all this shopping, you guessed right if you thought it was time to eat again. So, shunning the downtown tourist establishments, we headed back to the Loveless Café for a ‘snack’. If I lived in Nashville, I would go there all the time.

Alas, the next morning was our last – so after a lazy breakfast – complete with leftover biscuits from the Loveless (which are just as good cold as they are warm – maybe it’s the homemade blackberry jam?) – off we went to shop a little more. We were obliged to visit at least one mall, and at Green Hills you could probably shop for days. But don’t miss Designer Finds – an upscale resale shop, or Davis Kidd Booksellers – a huge independent bookstore that gives back to the community. Move over Borders.

Time for one more meal – the ‘last supper’, so to speak - and off to Sylvan Park Restaurant we went. It’s like walking into someone’s kitchen (except huge). Meringue topped pies that must have been 6 inches high – next time I’ll order dessert first, I swear. I decided to go lighter (more room for pie) – but I had the best double-decker BLT ever. So fresh they must have butchered the pig out back. Not really, but you get the idea. But the turkey dinners my compadres ordered also looked totally yummy, and I’ll bet the turkeys were out back playing with the piggies.

Down the road, on the way back to the airport, final shopping stop was Boomerang – “Finer Thrift”. In an old house – fact is an old whorehouse till just a few years ago. You just have to chat with Gary, he’ll give you the guided tour while seated behind the counter – sweet drawl & all, delivered with a hefty dose of humor. I found a great rayon print caftan in the vintage section downstairs that just had to come home with me. Be careful on that wrought iron spiral as you go down – but go.

Think superlatives with a capital “S” – Spa, Shop, Sup – and you’ll get a big ol’ Smile on your face, just like I did.

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