Philip Mountbatten RIP

Her Majesty the Queen aka “Cabbage” to her Prince

Lost the charm on her arm, now a huge major miss

99 years strong, 73 the Queen’s consort

Third cousins as they were, ruled the highest of courts

The Royal Navy was his calling

Through the Second World War

Irascible and tough minded, never the bore

For seven Decades plus the Duke of Edinburgh was anointed

The man of “her” hour he was happily appointed

The horses and corgis took mere second place

As the grandkids walked in and put the smile on his face

Can only suppose the regime at Balmoral

Became much less stuffy with Prince Philip as the corporal

Her Majesty, the Queen was married when a Princess

Will cantor through life with the status of Prince-less. Bh

Hon. Ketanji Brown Jackson,
Your knowlege runs quite deep.

Questions upon questions for you to take “The” seat.
You demeanor, style and enthusiasm,
Scale buildings high above.
If you run into Clark Kent.
Send him high fives and our Love.
This moment in our history,
Breathtaking as we sigh.
Go get your pens and pencils,
Numbers of crimes you need to try.
Protective and fair with reason,
Your style sings your praise.
The United States of America,
We trust you’ll help to save.
Your social construct as a woman, hits deep and to our core.
We sit with bated breath as we never have before.

In this week’s Torah portion we read one of our favorite verses:”And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam sang unto them: Sing ye to the LORD, for He is highly exalted…”

No explanation is required: women took part because women ARE a part of life, society and religion. Ailments are lonely and isolating. It is you and your problem sitting together all day long. The healing process is disturbingly confusing. A little passive, a little aggressive. You protect the queen at any cost as she holds direct access to the king who is the panacea to your troubles. We believe in artifacts, i.e. feathers, dimes, angelic signals that become ever-present and serve as comfort during the most difficult of times. An Angel whispering a heads up to look this way and listen up. This time the queen is sitting in the center square and the king is nowhere in sight. You flirt with the queen in an attempt to divert her attention as you try to gain entrance through the front door. You know all the while in a wizard of ozesque fashion you need to open the curtain. So just for today We trust a feather will float in our path and show us where the opening in the curtain is. Our reservoir of strength kicks into fast forward as we remember history accounts for so much, but it doesn’t mean you have to start another chapter if your story with someone has ended.

Baruch Ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Haolam, shehechiyanu, v’kiy’manu, v’higianu lazman haze.

Our hearing is not what it used to be,
And all the jazz.
Our patience is on the borderline,
And all that jazz.
So we watch where we are walking.
As falling is simply no good.
Our laugh lines are no longer laughing.
Dreary and dismal our predominant mood,
And all that Jazz.
So you left the water running and the
Door was slightly ajar.
If we were reading this new reality,
We’d be sure to hobble far.
The early bird specials are appealing,
Soup or a salad comes with,
Are we really living this chapter?
Please tell me we are just dreaming this.
Our morale is down in the basement,
Can’t find our get up and go.
The days are getting longer,
The Count down to search for the fun .

Brushed off the cobwebs of winter.
Planted some seeds in the ground.
Mallomars flew off the shelf,
We are turning this chapter around.
Wishes come two in a package,
We are thinking we’ll sign up for four.
Dog days will soon be behind us,
We will set the table for more.
Our new pair of sneakers are waiting,
We can get back on the treadmill of life.
We will grasp at our new found mojo.
Say goodbye to the anguish and strife.

So long to this dose of drama,

Let’s make it a thing of the past.
Say good-bye to that nasty ole winter,
It just was a matter of time.
So pull your chair up to the table,
It feels like all will be fine.

Double down for your chance at the win.
Springtime it is a coming.
A new dawning day will begin.

And all that jazz.

Raw end of the stick or right end of realty? Go over there and put your excuses in the “Doesn’t hold water bucket.” It contains and I quote – I couldn’t find your number, I lost my phone, I already found a 4th , 5th or 6th for the game, I thought it was Sunday and made another plan, I over booked my week and so on. The victims club has closed membership. The numbers of people who signed up exceeded the space limit. You’re not my cup of tea, I prefer not to sit at your table, you press the wrong buttons in me. “I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now. From up and down and still somehow. It’s clouds illusions I recall. I really don’t know clouds at all.” Oh, Judy Collins, both sides now, indeed. Lessons come wrapped in perfectly sealed, beautifully ribboned packages. Too little, too late, no worries. Once burned adages streaming in double digits. Option “Turn it off”- thank you Elder McKinley. The song from Book of Mormons. ” I got a feeling, that you could be feeling, a whole lot better than you feel today. You say you got a problem, well that’s no problem. It’s super easy not to feel that way!”

By the way next to the bucket that holds no water, there is a “forgive everyone everything line.” Your choice to stress less or deal with the mess. Let’s do it Saturday Om shanti!

If you haven’t had A slice from Di Fara’s have you really had a slice?
Was it the live basil Dom-( first name basis kinda guy) snipped from the plant on his window, the-ratio of cheeses to sauce- or perhaps a combo of the Napoletana recipe Domenico DeMarco used as he bowed over the dough that would rise upon command? RIP- Dom- you will be missed but your pizza will live on. Resisting another slice the challenge we face going forward. Make it a saucy- ( how cheesy) kind of Friday.

Back to the Future-The expression refers to the time when one has to stop (over) thinking about the things they could, or not, have done in the past so that what happened wouldn’t have happened.

We took a stroll back in time to our beloved Rhinebeck. Flowers, food, art shops, cheese shops, kitchenware, knives sharpened, Bread Alone pastries and anything and everything at Adam’s Fairacre Farm. Attitudes of “disarming stress” was the common denominator. The paradigm in a soundtrack would be “let’s get it on,”- “ girls just wanna have fun,” celebrate good times come on- thank you Kool and the Gang. The familiar turns on the drive up the Taconic imprinted in our memory as if it were yesterday. Deja vu in full gear as we set out to exhume a long lived, feel good moment in time. We sprinted back to a community where our collection of play things unfolded like the adage about bike riding. Our emotional vision autocorrected as it’s been many years and a deleterious pandemic in between our then and our now. We had a group of peeps that shared an attitude of playful wonder. “Come eat by me.” Or, we are going to the neighbors for their signature dinners and warm embraces. This encapsulated chapter in our playbook is medicinal and holds a woven spot, likened to a puppy nestled in our laps. Sometimes you Can pick up where you left off. Especially now more than ever pick up where you left off, eat the dish you loved in the corner table at your favorite bistro- don’t miss the sale on lavender scented candles at the shop local boutiques. Knock on your door number one, win a -Trip Back to the Future. “Just a passing breeze filled with memories. Of the golden smile that introduced me to-The Days of Wine and Roses and you.”Make it a great Sunday.



Living without mommy- and then it happened. The fear, the devastation and the ultimate in never mores- Square in the face, the pain sits quivering. Hey, mom we need you now more than ever. Waves of emotional pain storm in, no tap on the shoulder, no heads up. The freshness of the loss severes a piece of our hearts. You are still our center stage. The compass for our actions. We talk about the days in Rhinebeck when Robo rubbed your feet, coddled your soul. We read aloud to you, you are the only face staring back in the dark. Yes, we hear you now. Wow, really? thank you Mamala. Focusing on your words gets us through on not just the murky days. Looking forward in the “just have fun” ways is our biggest take away from our life long dialogue. Ok, hold on mommy – yes, we will make it a good Monday BH

How to Win Friend’s and Influence People-with a much needed Twist.

“Understand people’s anxiety- Always have a suntan-” Aristotle Onassis- Dale Carnegie-kind and ever so real. He won friends and influenced people he never met. His basic principle to aim for cheerful friendliness and approach things with zero ambiguity. Antiquated?- we think Not. Pushy tactics are not necessary when you carry your own concept of yourself. His motto “Don’t criticize, condemn or complain.“ Hmmmm! His book has gone the distance on the daily, like our morning coffee, Al Rokers weather report and scrolling through Instagram. Eliminating gossip and pointing fingers, leaves time for forwarding junk emails to 10 people as an opportunity to win the lottery. Loling. His suggestions served as the prototype for all The Chicken Soup for the Soul publications. Helen Gurley Brown in her Cosmopolitan style, told it like it was as career and love life merged, through red lipstick and panty hose and we listened- well maybe some of the time. We watched, we must confess, early on when Phil Donahue met “That Girl” and interviewed Jean Nidetch (founder of Weight Watchers.) We learned the value of zero point foods and loosing some lbs.

Back to -Oh Dale, how your words resonated loud and clear upon first read and today when we need a reminder or two. That unpleasant look from so and so the other day had everything to do with them and very little to do with us. People project their feelings and own bias when their defending the one side of the story they didn’t hear.

We long for the days when we walked into the candy store and put the new Betty and Veronica, Little Dot and Dennis the Menace comics on the counter next to our bazooka and red licorice treats. How bout the primordial smells of the gum in the pack of baseball cards that one of the kids on your block shared with you? The very familiar smell of a brand new spalding ball lingers on in our bag of childhood treasures. Exhuming those scents easier than remembering, well a-lot these days. We believe our first art lesson was on Etch a Sketch, and early writing lessons happened through creating stories of where Barbie and Ken will go on their honeymoon. We thought Bermuda would be nice. One guilty pleasure we recall was chewing double bubble, piece after piece (not knowing we were helping our dentist enjoy his summer home with each bubble that landed smack across our faces.) Oh the 60’s where art thou now? Our world is bleeding out of control. We had what seemed was like 5 minutes in between the pandemic and the attack on Ukraine. Worry, insomnia and zapped energy a deleterious trifecta too common in our everyday. So hit it Dale-“ Get busy. Keep busy. it’s the cheapest kind of medicine there is on earth- and one of the best.” Thanks, Mr. Carnegie we’re in.