Home Stuff

Change

/ still a dreamer / 13 Comments

Sometimes change is imposed from without, and outside our control. Our best bet can be to adapt our thoughts and feelings and make the most of it. Sometimes change is completely self-motivated and filled with all the fear and exhilaration that a major shift can bring. And oftentimes, it’s a combination of both.

Change can happen in a moment or evolve over time. Such has been the case in my life where I have recently decided to end a decades-long relationship with a client, who, in all reality, was more like an extended family in many ways. Numerous endeavors of my own have been waiting in the wings to grow and flower, but have always taken a back seat to the immediate demands of fundraising, design, writing, getting to press, and so on. Not to complain. Doing all this on behalf of animals has been an incredibly rich part of my life.

But then things change. New people, new thoughts. Out with the old, in with the new. And change doesn’t always seem the best, especially if we feel differently as to how it deals with a cause that has been near and dear to our hearts. And especially when all these other ideas and wishes and dreams of one’s own have been clamoring for expression, or at least, more of it.

And so change challenges us, heals us, pushes us to take the steps to grow. In my case, to write, to draw, to help new people to grow and change, too. It can all seem to be happening at once, but in the end, we are bright and new, even if a little shaky on our newfound legs.

It seems that the daily advice on my Wayne Dyer desk calendar has been speaking to me. On November 5th, he said, “Go beyond the ideas of succeeding and failing — these are the judgments. Stay in the process and allow the universe to handle the details.” I couldn’t have been given better advice.

Brunch at the Lovin’ Oven

/ still a dreamer / 17 Comments

This morning was a space of wonderful normalcy. My friend and I went down to Frenchtown to have brunch at a favorite restaurant, Lovin’ Oven. They serve the most consistently delicious food at truly reasonable prices, and sourced as much as possible from local farms.

The outdoor patio with umbrellas for shade, bright orange picnic tables, and lovely decor.

Eating outside felt so safe and comfortable – tables well-distanced, staff wearing masks, and menus available through a QR code on little cards on the table.

The lovely fresh flowers at each table, also grown locally.

I’ve been a fan of Lovin’ Oven from when I first moved into my little town fifteen years ago. They were located just a few blocks away, right next to the Delaware River, in a turn-of-the-century Victorian house. It was kind of crowded, but totally charming, and the kitchen, tiny. At some point, they moved to Frenchtown in much more spacious quarters, part of a converted warehouse.

This wall of Hindu statuary shields the patio from the road beyond. It was a fabulous find from the former store next door, Two Buttons.

What stayed the same in the move is the wonderful staff, always smiling, considerate, and kind, and, of course, the fabulous food which includes plenty of vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free. Putting aside for the moment that I don’t eat meat, there is rarely anything on the Lovin’ Oven menu that I wouldn’t eat. How many places can you say that about?

Breakfast scramble – scrambled eggs with locally grown cherry tomatoes and sweet corn plus cheddar, and accompanied by roasted potatoes and oatmeal porridge bread.

It was a huge amount of food, and I already knew I’d be taking half of it home, especially if I might be considering dessert (yes, at that hour of the morning – too good to pass up.)

Vegan taco – fried plantains, refried beans, Rancheros sauce, roasted tofu, pickled red onions on a grilled corn tortilla.

My friend chose the vegan taco which was as wonderful as its presentation. She, too, took half of this mound of food home for later consumption.

Top shelf of homemade baked goods – muffins, scones, cookies – all made from scratch.

Another plus here is that they bake all their own delicious treats right there on the premises in small batches. Not for those watching their weight or sugar, but for every now and then, do we really care? The little shelf pictured above sits over the refrigerated case which holds such wonders as Key Lime Pie, Caramel Nut Tart, or what I had … pictured below.

Peanut butter pie – a whipped peanut butter silk pie sitting on top of chocolate ganache and a graham cracker crust – just heaven.

When my peanut butter pie arrived, I was honestly so excited I forgot all about photographing it! So I borrowed this from Lovin’ Oven’s Facebook page which I doubt the owner – who now knows me for 15 years – would mind. What a dream of a pie.

I am so happy that this restaurant made it through the pandemic. Julie developed a takeout menu for 3 times a week, and all the loyal LO fans came and kept them afloat. Coming back when they could actually, physically, open again was like old home week. Staff and diners all greeted one another like long lost friends.

I think when you’re are doing the right thing for the right reason you’ll make out OK. And I think they are proof of that. They just do everything right. It’s always a pleasure to be there. Glad we all got to see you on the other side. And thanks.

Little Bright Spots

/ still a dreamer / 10 Comments

This past June was the hottest on record in the United States. July saw the issuance of multiple tornado warnings in my state, one specifically for my town and the surrounding areas. Never in my life here in Jersey, have I ever had to seriously sequester myself and animals in either the basement or lowest interior space in the house (my chosen option), in response to serious tornado warnings. And they did hit, too, just, fortunately for me, not here.

But let’s look on the bright side, because there always is one.

One of two dwarf red maples on the property, this one is more a deep bronze than a shade of red. Unless, of course, you’re a little newbie sprout. This close-up doesn’t tell you how tiny the new leaves are in comparison to the whole, which is huge. But it might tell you why it brings a smile every time I look at it.

One morning, I looked out my kitchen window and saw something indiscernible in between two of the ornamental grasses out back. It looked like a face. Oh …. it WAS a face. The face of a very young (and adorable) deer holding very still but just about ready to chow down on a hosta. I went down the porch stairs to gently shoo her away. Maybe only 4-5 months old, she easily cleared the nearly 4′ garden gate. As I returned, I saw she had been on my porch, and had eaten the front half of the impatiens above and a few other potted plants. It’s discouraging, but that little wide-eyed face holding soooo still, trying to be invisible …

For some reason, this pretty pair was spared, and is now starting to bloom.

There are snowball hydrangeas all over this property. They bloom snow white, and are now in their green phase, to turn a stunning rust as the summer wears on, and it becomes cooler.

Hello, little fella. This very young praying mantis greeted me one morning on a kitchen window screen. Soon after, he disappeared. But he hadn’t gone very far, I later discovered. It was turning out to be a very hot afternoon, but I managed to find myself a little time to sit on the back porch and read while there was still some shade nearest the house. And there he was. Not far from me on the decking, in the very hot, bright sun.

I thought to make his way a little easier by moving him into the shade. I offered him a large hydrangea leaf to climb on, as I didn’t want to handle and frighten him. He very calmly walked right over the leaf, and into the shadow of the railing. “Thanks, ma’am, but I’ve got this,” I imagined he said as he found his own shade. And then over the next half hour or so, he slowly made his way across the length of the porch and disappeared.

All I could think of was that that must be what `biological imperative’ means. He knew where he was going and what he had to do, because at the other end of the porch is where I often see adult green praying mantises, like the one next to Pumpkin in a photo from a few years ago.

I know for myself, and most everyone I know, that the last year and change has had a lingering impact in one way or another. And yet, we find, there are still always bright spots. Hope you keep finding yours.

Let Your Weekend Be Filled with Happiness!

/ still a dreamer / 17 Comments

My last post was quite lengthy, so for this one, I’ll be quite brief. Just some thoughts for a happy holiday weekend and beyond.

Go out and find some fabulous local produce at a farmer’s market or farmstand and enjoy the bounty of the season!

Get around to the gardening you’ve been waiting to do! (Or in my case, pot the poor plants that have been waiting way too long to look fabulous!)

If planning an outing, find a good crafts or art show where local artisans are showcasing their wares. Like this fabulous Lemon Peel Soap I came across recently by a local soap maker. Support your local artists!

No matter how busy you may be – or not be –

make some time for your furry small fry.

And above all – and which may include all of the above – take the advice on this journal given me by a dear friend – Do more of what makes you happy!

Happy July 4th!

The First One I Ever Saw … and More

/ still a dreamer / 14 Comments

The other evening as I was “closing up shop” on my day, putting files away, and cleaning up my desktop, I happened to look out the window and spied a bird on my fence I’d never seen before. It was a hawk, but too small to be a red-tailed hawk. What was it?

First, I took a few photos through my office window lest I go outside and frighten it away, and then went to Audubon’s website for a little research. I found that we have eight hawks native to New Jersey, and this is a sharp-shinned hawk, also known as a sharp or sharpie. My reading on Audubon identified it as a juvenile. It stayed there for quite some time, and I stayed staring at it for quite some time, mesmerized by its beauty. Seeing an animal like this so close is always a gift to me.

And on to sillier matters …

I went out to get the mail down at the road, and my 6-year-old neighbor was taking an outdoors break from his online school day. He had a white toy animal which he quickly explained to me was a Komodo dragon he’d gotten for his birthday last year. “Wait!” I said. “I have a Komodo dragon, too!” And I showed him what you see below. He loved it, but was called in by his Dad for his next class. Inspired by his enthusiasm, I took a few photos and texted them over to my friends for him.

Here she is rock climbing in the back yard. The carving came from a now-defunct store called Two Buttons which was in nearby Frenchtown. The owners of the store were local author Liz Gilbert and her then-husband, Jose, she being the real-life Elizabeth Gilbert who wrote Eat, Pray, Love. (She was played by Julia Roberts in the movie.)

And playing on the porch. Two Buttons was an amazing import store that sold the wares of artisans from all over the world. This little dragon is carved from the root of a tree that grows in Indonesia, and is about 11″ long. They had different sizes, including one that was about 7′ long and breathtaking. If I had a few thousand dollars doing nothing, that one would be in my living room now.

Exploring in the grass. I am reminded to be grateful, in these unusual times with all their challenges and frustrations, that there’s still something silly in me – and in those of you who are enjoying the dragon photos – that has survived and seems alive and well. Cheers to us!

And on one last note … it’s spring here in New Jersey, and the pollen seems particularly intense this year. Witness my car a few hours ago.

Coming back up my driveway, the wind suddenly whipped up, and a cloud – I mean a CLOUD! – of pollen pursued me up to my door. I’d say Pollen-10, me and my car-0. And tonight we are expecting high winds. Woo hoo!

Life brings with it innumerable changes. This past year has brought with it many that have been massive, widespread, and often out of our control. And yet we’re still here … coming through on the other side – maybe a little frayed around the edges, feeling a little beat down – maybe a lot beat down – but have not given up hope. What just came to mind were the immortal words of John Lennon, “And we all shine on.“