Sometimes life makes it impossible not to believe. The pieces are at times heavier than your strength can bear. 

When you are called on to lift the weight of disappointment-knowing you’ve  spin your golden threads, let the meant to be’s usher you into place. The tough times have a way of calling on us to reveal the “all we gots.”

Hamantaschen, Hamantaschen,
Where art the best?
We are on an adventure.
Through a taste test.
The flavors and the textures.
In one bite or two.
The crust and the filling baked like our Bubby use to do.
Seeking the memories, we are hitting the ground.
We’ll go store to store.
The streets we will pound.
Add the sugar and the butter, the vanilla extract?
Measure the amounts, don’t mix them in blind.
The hamantaschen we knew,
Were one of a kind.
We’ll tap into Amy Rosen.
We are thinking she will know.
Her cooking and her baking- a win, place and a show.
We favor the prune, but appreciate the rest.
Hey, we will taste it all.
In our search for the best.
We love the Nova from Murrays.
The Bagels we get at Tal are swell.
The strawberries from The Boys.
Puts a smile and a kvell.
The hamantaschen only our taste test will tell.
Get back to ya!

After a prophylactic double mastectomy- didn’t save the nipples -getting rid of old library cards and who needs more than one cake cutter – is a piece of cake. Run on sentence- and such is Life.

Gardening situates you in a different kind of time, the antithesis of the agitating present of social media. Time becomes circular, not chronological; minutes stretch into hours; some actions don’t bear fruit for decades. The gardener is not immune to attrition and loss, but is daily confronted by the ongoing good news of fecundity. A peony returns, alien pink shoots thrusting from bare soil. The fennel self-seeds; there is an abundance of cosmos out of nowhere. Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers.

My eyes have told the story of 72 years of living life.

The beauty and the glory-the trauma and the strife.

From the views of new born babies, to the heavy hearted woes.
My eyes have told the story of a lifetime I behold.

With a new venue in our picture.
An horizon flooded with change.
A little nip and tuck-to welcome in the new terrain.
An astigmatism of the future.
The bar set with numbers strong.
We are widening our scope, focusing on the straight and on the long.
We will tap into our moxie.
Our eyes upon the prize.
Let’s usher in this chapter called “Smarter Laced with Wise.”

Mangiare e Bene

We sit down at the table, pass around the basket of bread.

Our menu in our hands, ordering we do dread.

Pasta, pasta everywhere, but not a drop to eat.

We love to see our peeps, we eat and then repeat -AGAIN?

With a stroll to 84th Street, a brisk walk round Central Park lake.

Another fettuccine bolognese we really cannot take.

Our pants are getting tighter, as the buttons they do pop.

And then we order dessert and pull out all the stops.

Four forks around the key lime.

Or a spoon for creme brûlée.

A holy moley to the cannoli.

Decaf cappuccino on the side.

We glance into the mirror, as it really tells no lies.

Our girlish, curvy figure, so very far away.

When we get up in the morning we start a brand new day.

A scoop of some plain yogurt- add a banana to the bowl.

We have yet to stand on the scale.

The Veal Milanese has taken its toll.

As we dress for one more table and another group of friends.

The caring and conversation we trust will never end.

If we eliminate the bread, skip the pasta page indeed.

Perhaps some broiled salmon, is exactly what we need.

Let’s do it Tuesday.

Step out, step out of the sun, if you keep getting burned. —Evan Hansen.
Ok listen up, what’s it going to take?
Adages galore bout repeating mistakes.
First toast to health and good luck along the way.
Stay with me this time, cause it will juxtapose naysay.
As time marches on with challenges stockpiling.
We fuss and we muss with the “not importants” all the whiling.
“Elementary dear Watson,”
It’s easier said than done.
We’re turning our cheek, as we’re coming undone.
We try flipping the negatives.
Counting one by one.
Will they like us and invite us to come back?
The hard on ourselves, try cutting some slack.
Hit the ground running.
It’s medicinal indeed.
Give it a chance.
Plant a new seed.
The news on the daily, breathtaking for sure.
Like a minute under water, open a new door.
Dr. Seuss and I quote.
“I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win cause you’ll play against you.”
Give yourself a good Monday.

A Side of Gypsy! 🎼

Have some nova, Mr. Goldstone.
Have a bagel, have a schmear.
Have a latke Mr. Goldstone.
Any spare that I can spare I’ll be glad to share!
Take a dish, have a pickle, have a knish, here’s a fork.
Put your feet up. Feel at home.
Have a coke, something corked?

Would you like to hear a joke?
G-d forbid a smoke.
Have a decaf mit your babka.
Mr. Goldstone come sit by us.
Come Daven by the river, meet us on East End and 84th.
Finish up Mr. Goldstone, you’re already on your fourth (course.)
Have some flanken, cooked with care.
Everybody give a bissel cheer.

We sat you-next to Murray.
Go sit in that Big green chair.
Have a Goldstone, Mr. Bialy.
Tell me any little thing that I can do.
Have some liver, chopped on a cracker.
Have a cookie, have a few.
What’s the matter, Mr. G?
How bout another pot of tea?
Good Shabbos-Mr. Goldstone.
Raise a stoli, maybe two.
Keep your senses- helps stability.
Mr. Goldstone we love you. 🎼

Neil Simon Penned One Long Love Story. Valentines Day!!

In 1997 he wrote the screenplay Proposals. The take away thought about what he loved in a character he developed is ” her humor is different. Her take on life is different.”
“Never Underestimate the Stimulation of Eccentricity.”

Homage to Neil Simon-. We binged your movies to help ward off “The Biloxi Blues.”

Whether we were “Barefoot in the Park, while “Lost in Yonkers” or hitching a ride home from “Brighton Beach,” we waited to hear Jonathan Schwartz “Playing our Song,” on WQXR American Standard Radio. Marvin Hamlisch played Carole Bayer Sager’s lyrics to his music with his particular Zip-a-dee-doo-dah enthusiasm. We swayed along and knew all the words. Your collaborations with Mike Nicols and Gene Zaks prolifically chronicled our youth. Oh Neil, we got hooked when we read your name amongst the credits as we watched Sgt. Bilko, played with such guile on The Phil Silvers show. We waited to hear your interviews with Joan Hamburg on 77 WABC to learn what play was next to be “Broadway Bound.” Her interviews typically came at the end of her show after the bargain shopping and food segments. There was often a reference to Shelly Fireman, our forever friend and his spin on delicious Italian fare.)

When we spatzered around our favorite thrift shops we heard your familiar very New Yawkish sounding voice broadcasted live. When Joan interviewed you, the two of you had a repartee we so enjoyed, although we considered you quite the “Odd Couple.”

We marveled at the big city duplex apartments with sunken living rooms, and gilded cage appeal that set the stage for many of your playbooks. Was Willy’s (Walter Matthau) apartment at the Beaux Arts Ansonia really that big? We thought it could possibly the best pad ever to play hide and go seek. Did Jane Fonda actually run around “Barefoot in the Park” as she pleaded with Robert Redford to try again to save their marriage? We wanted to live in her apartment as soon as we moved to the Village. We knew we didn’t want to live uptown and become a “Prisoner on Second Avenue.”
We weren’t sure you could top the episode when Felix Unger walked into Oscar Madison’s cluttered apartment to try to get back together with Gloria. You certainly did when you portrayed the classic “Northeast distributor of Guilt,” and had Molly Picon threaten to keep her head in the oven over the troubles with her bachelor sons. Oh, Frankie.

Our take away quote of yours is “if you can go through life without experiencing pain you probably haven’t been born yet.” Neil Simon- we trust you’ve be filling them with laughter in Suite 203-04 during your “Chapter Two.”