Filed under: Sanity
I am sitting at my kitchen table staring at my floors which are still not done. We started this process back in April hoping that they would be brand spanking new and ready for guests by Memorial Day. Its now Labor Day Weekend and well you know. Where did the summer go?
I feel like just yesterday I was blogging about that damn bee that stung me on one of my runs, what I wanted to do with all my mental space and my weekly trips to the beach. I even renamed part of August to give us more time. It was all an illusion cause here I am back at my post trying to remember what I did, why my floors weren’t done and why I didn’t have more time to wear my summer dresses.
In the corner of my eye, I see the summer platter I did make for Mike. One thing I managed to accomplish this season. Yay! And it was for a great reason too. On July 27th, Mike got a hole-in-one at his own club tournament. He was so proud and excited. I was excited too for all of about one minute when I realized this was not one of my golf tournaments. At mine if you get a hole-in-one you win a Bentley or this year a $60,000 motorcycle too (I would take the cash in this case). Cell phone rings. . . “Honey that is great!” (here is where I pictured myself driving a Bentley GT convertible with my hair blowing in the warm wind), ”What do you mean bragging rights. . .” (wind right out of my sails and hair).
Summer always flies by. This year I think it was on speed. And although I never got the chance to do all the things I listed back in July, I did manage to do a lot, relax a little and enjoy my home. Granted its not quite perfect yet but it’s getting there. I just couldn’t see taking two weeks out of an already limited timeframe to pickle the floors. But we painted the entire exterior, made plans to redo the pool house and may even put in an outdoor bar.
This morning I woke up ready for my final weekend. It’s a mass exodus on Monday and I don’t think we will be back here until the end of the month when I produce an event at the club. So I got out of bed ready for my summer routine: coffee, work out and then sun. Its overcast. And I swear the leaves’ internal timeclocks are off. There are a million little pains in the ass all around my courtyard.
Leaves and clouds go away
I want my summer for a few more days.
Filed under: Feast
Last night Di, Mosey and I tried a new restaurant. We were celebrating Mo’s birthday and wanted a different scene. Plus, we thought we should give Mistral a break – they usually have the pleasure of our company on such festive occasions. We are creatures of habit though and decided to try Jamie’s latest addition to his Beantown restaurant collection, Moo.
Now with a name like Moo you must specialize in one thing. Unfortunately for me it’s not milkshakes. But they do make a mean vodka mojito! (its kind of milky looking) Why JM decided to open another steak house in this area, (we already have Ruth’s Chris and fellow newbie KO Prime) I have no idea, but I have to say he did a nice job.
I arrived first (shocker) and sat at the corner of the newly appointed and expanded bar. This was the old Federalist – swanky and therefore overpriced – restaurant in XV Beacon. Still love that hotel. Anyway I also loved the old decor of the Fed. So much in fact that I designed my family room on the Cape to match. I loved the dark wood, red and gold accents and masculine feel to the place. Moo is a blonde for sure. A dirty blonde, but still much lighter in look and feel. The bar area is good to hang and talk which is sometimes lost on new spaces. Here’s a clue: we like to be lounge lizards – give us the right space and atmosphere and we will come back.
We were going to hang in the coveted corner booth of the bar but decided to join the other guests in the main dining room. Not for us – still had that stuffy feel and clientel of the Fed. So we moved. .. again. By now we had made our presence known (we brought the average age down to alive and we do not exactly blend) so the staff was doing everything they could to accommodate the three of us.
Mo ordered the petit mignon, Di had the swordfish and I settled on the sea scallops. My scallops were delish and worth the wait. We also ordered many sides – the gratin potatos and corn succatash are to die for. But do not go there thinking you will be able to diet. The chef sent over foie gras. I was thinking do I eat this or just smear it directly on my ass where it is going to end up anyway? That and the corn and potatos with gruyere cheese.
They also sent us dessert. Not one treat to split but three separate yummy devils. Hey guys do we look like we consume all that sugar? Well, we did last night. A banana split from heaven, a lemon meringue mini pie like grandma’s and a piece of chocolate cake that weighed more than Mo’s new red Chloe bag.
We left the restaurant full, happy and satisfied. And with all that we ate last night, mooing. We will graze here again I am sure.
Happy Birthday Mosey! xo
Filed under: Feast
Summer Sundays are always a struggle. Do we stay on the Cape and leave early the next morning or do we pack it up and try to guess when we will not end up victims of the weekend traffic. Today was no different except for the fact that we realized its the last weekend before Labor Day and summer is quickly coming to an end. It is Sunday evening and we decided to stay. I am barefoot and happy.
It was a gorgeous day here and who really wanted to go home to the intense humidity that I am sure just radiated off the pavement in the city. Plus after a great weekend, I am completely relaxed and into my boho vibe that I have been cherishing all summer long. Last night we were on the “no plan” plan (my favorite kind of plan) but ended up having a really fun dinner at the Club with an assorted crew. So tonight I wanted to stay home and cook.
My summer table is always a reflection of the easeful days and simple stuff of the season. My in-laws have a fantastic garden and called to say they had some veggies for us. Their stuff beats the local garden and farm stands and it’s a lot cheaper too! I got the call in the middle of optimal sunning hours and I really didn’t want to vacate my spot and my tan for some zucchini and eggplant. Perfect thing was I didn’t have to. My parents called and said they were dropping by to pick up some vegies too. ”Would you grab mine and drop them at my house?” Good old Dad. It gave them another excuse to come over and see Grover (their grand dog). Bet you have figured out by now that we all live fairly close to one another. About 7 – 12 minutes from door to door to be exact. I cherish that too.
When I got home from the beach there was a large tray of fresh veggies waiting for me. Lots of green beans, tomatoes (they are unbelievable right now), zucchini and eggplant. All the right ingredients to make a summer ratatouille. A dish that I grew up with but have only recently come to love. My Mom makes a mean one and shared her recipe with me. Well not really, my Mom doesn’t really do recipes – its whatever she feels like throwing in. That being said she is a great cook. My Nana taught her well. And my husband is lucky enough to now have me who came packaged with the cooking skills of both amazing women.
So here I stand barefoot in the kitchen on a Sunday night in summer. I am glowing from two days of sun, not a stitch of makeup on my face and armed with a wooden spoon and cheese grater. I am content and I am hungry. Tonight, we will feast on a summer ratatouille. I made this last weekend too – it’s that good and good for you too.
Next weekend I urge you to shop a local produce stand. Dodge your shoes, stay in one night and make your own ratatouille or some other summer recipe. Take time to really enjoy the process. If you are not a cook, don’t think of it as cooking. Think of it as truly enjoying the simple delights of summer.
I promise it will be one of the most relaxing and rewarding things you do Labor Day weekend. Bon apetite.
Filed under: Events
I just got back from NYC. I am dressed in jeans, sandals and a tank and am soooooo looking forward to a classic summer weekend. The past few days I ran around the city wrapped in a sweater and dodging Santa Claus. It was Christmas in August.
I have to give Madison Square Garden Entertainment props on this one. They staged this event in the heart of midtown to launch the “on sale” of the 75th Anniversary of the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular. (I have learned from working with them for months that the name of the show must always be italicized.)
75 Santas were ho ho ho-ing all over NYC. Traffic was a mess on 6th and it was all due to snow flurries and livestock. And let me tell you, getting a permit for placing livestock on a city street is not the easiest task in the world. I know this from experience. Some of you may remember a few sheep I brought in for an event.
Anyway, there on Avenue of the Americas under the famous Radio City overhang were Santas (North Pole must clone them now cause all along I thought there was only one), donkeys, and elves. This parade of characters were all waiting in line to buy the first tickets. Did I mention the snow?
This my friends and fellow public relations gurus was a super publicity stunt that I am sure sparked sales. I am really looking forward to working with this group on an event I am producing there late this fall. There will be plenty of tin soldiers, elves, leggy girls in red and white costumes, a Santa and yes, even snow.
But until then, I don’t ever want to witness snow or a jolly fat guy in a red flammable suit in August again. It’s still summer guys – we have two weekends left. So I am off to ho ho hop on down to the beach.
Hey Santa. . .pass the sunscreen.
Filed under: Sanity
Why is it that as we get older, time seems to go by faster? And especially the summer months. It feels like just yesterday I was blogging from the Cape about my mental space and all the things I wanted to do this summer. I was having a conversation about this very topic this weekend and decided to eliminate this new stress. Now when I look at the calendar, I realize its not the middle of August but rather and only the second third.
August is always bittersweet for me. It means change which is both good and sad. The weather is changing. The days are still great for sunning but the cooling has a positive effect on my hair. Good hair days are right around the corner. My monkeys are going back to school. I am always lucky to find the sweetest girls that pour their hearts into their work. Fall brings new monkeys, many approaching their last year at school. This is always both a challenge and a treat to watch them experience the transition. Its time to start building a new fall wardrobe. Fall clothes are my favorite – I just love boots, sweaters and jackets, but I will miss the ease of my tanks and flips. And my workload seems to start taking speed right about now. Don’t get me wrong, being busy is great, running around two cities like a one armed paper hanger is not.
Today I am on a 10:30am bird. I will spend all of 24 hours in NYC and then have to travel back to my office for another meeting on yet another event tomorrow. Then Wednesday I go back to NYC for the remainder of the work week (which I hope excuses me from posting every day). Four birds in one week. This basically is my routine and pace for the rest of the year. And you know what? I am looking forward to every minute of every day.
But for the time being, I am going to go back and read all my blogs from earlier this summer. Figure out what I can check off my list (I made my summer platter!) and what I still want to do. No worries, I have time.
After all, we are only in the second third.
Filed under: Fierce
Grover is a Brussels Griffon Terrier and the other man in my life. I say man and not boy because he turned two this summer. I have caught myself saying this to him. I try to rationalize with this little furry creature. As you can probably tell from his glamour shot, he usually wins and has the last word. This 10 pound, four legged stud has me completely wrapped around his paw.
Grover is our second Brussels. Our first dog, Griffin, was an absolute delight. He passed two summers ago. I did not want another dog but Grover entered my life anyway. And he was an absolute terror. I threatened to send him back to Seattle almost on a daily basis. Again trying to rationalize with a dog. This little monkey would not do anything. He had to be naked. Refused to wear a hoodie or sweatshirt (and I bought him the cutest clothes at Louis) walk on a leash or wear a collar. In fact, when I did try and dress him or simply take him out for a walk, he turned into a sphinx. Froze. And he could stay like that for hours. The willpower on this mutt was insane. By the way he is a certainly not a mutt. And the price tag of this puppy skyrocketed after his tenth cousin starred in As Good As It Gets.
Cut to two years later. . . not much has changed (well except for the fact that I am completely in love). Puppy bootcamp for a month and a half and to the tune of about $2K did just about nothing. He does wear a collar and walk on a leash, but it’s still a struggle. Which is why I chose to write about him today. Yesterday was one of those days I tried to rationalize with him about everything.
He was booked for a shampoo, haircut, mani and pedi. We had a birthay party to go to last night and he had to be fierce. I swear this thing wakes up and immediatey senses what’s going on. He refused to do his pee on the pee pee pad (huge fan especially when its rainy) or eat his breakfast. So what do I do, tell him if he’s not good he will not come with me to the party. Yeah right, like he understood that one. Then we got in the car which he loves. Two blocks into our route and he started to cry. Of course he did, he still had to do his business. Its pouring rain and I am wearing white jeans. “Grover mom is wearing white today, I told you to pee before we got in the car.”
I now have to find a covered area where I can park and walk him. We do and I pace up and down under some scaffolding for about 15 minutes. He smells the same 3 trees about 12 times, pees on each (he is 10 pounds how much pee can be in him?) and then finally decides to poop. He was very proud. I had no treats. He refused to get back in the car. “Grover, good dogs are not late for their mani/pedis.” That didn’t work either.
I had to carry him back to the car. White jeans now looked a bit muddy and my black top needed a lint brush. Good thing I stash one in the car (event producers are always prepared). As soon as the car turned onto the street of his stylist, he started to cry again. I told him he was going to have a great time at the spa and would get to hang with some of his friends. That always works on me.
Which he may not have understood at the time but as soon as he saw and sniffed some friends, he was fine. I spent the rest of my day working at the office and rationalizing with a whole different breed. My clients.
Filed under: Events
This past weekend I went to see the Steve Miller Band in concert. We were asked to go months ago and I remember thinking that it would be alot of fun. I mean who doesn’t remember and love the song The Joker? Got to admit, I forgot about it until I received the reminder email, but then began to listen to all their old hits. A girl has got to prepare. I immediately sensed the vibe and was automatically transported back to my days at Boston College. Presto. . .once again I wanted to Fly Like an Eagle.
My husband was formally a rock star (no pun intended) in the music industry and used to book and manage bands. He will shoot me for writing this, but he toured with Robert Palmer and dated (well whatever you call it when a cougar “dates” a young, stress is on young here folks, man)
?????. How he ever got into money management from there I do not know, but luckily he did. Hit songs and hit stocks were integrated (Nance that word is all yours babe) and became his thing. Anyway, music is a part of our daily lives.
That being said, we have very different taste in music and a very different approach to its enjoyment. I tend to listen to my “all time favorite songs right now” over and over and over again. This drives him batty by the way. But it sums up my personality and what makes me tick. I bet there are tons of other Space Cowboys (I bought the shrunken tee!) out there who feel the same exact way. The music moves us and for whatever reason. The songs and/or the band are our illusionists. Care to join me in the front row?
I ventured down there a few times at this concert. There was no stopping me. I went to hear 3 songs and I wasn’t leaving until I did. Everyone else was complaining it was too hot (it must have been 120 degrees under that tent) and they were tired. As soon as I heard the first few notes of Rock ‘N Me, I was off. Ran right by my husband, right by my group and right by the security guards. There I was in the front row swaying and sweating to one of my all time favorite songs. . . right then. For about 9 minutes I was a BC Eagle all over again and a Steve Miller groupie.
Songs remind us of times - whether they are happy or sad. Or they remind us of people – whether they are good or bad. And somehow everytime they manage “to reach out and grab” me. They must be magic.
Filed under: Events
My apologies to my readers for not posting this past week. My busy season has officially begun and my time management skills have been overworked with clients. But it’s the weekend and I am catching up – on sleep, on family time and on Daily Cookie.
Most of the time I am home, I become a true homebody. My job takes me out so much that my sweats and my own bed are that much more appealing when I return.
However there are many times, and this is perk number 5 (I think that’s where I am at) of being an event producer, we get to mix business with pleasure.
I was in NYC with a client for two days of back-to-back planning meetings. I knew about this party for a while and always intended to go, but somehow the combination of my exhaustions (feet and heat) wore me down. Couple that with the bitchy PR chick managing the list (who had classic list attitude - you know the kind, power from a clipboard) and I really did not want to go. But my client did, so guess what? We went.
Hugo Boss definitely wears the pants in the city. The view alone from this location was worth the trip. And although it was hot and steamy all day and there were about 750 bodies in one space, it never felt sticky or congested. The open air on the rooftop was refreshing and the vibe created was contagious. Boss was hosting a party and screening a documentary on Joe Strummer, drive in style.
There was a huge screen on the far end of the roof and then lots of “parking spaces.” Instead of cars, there were beds. And lots of them all covered in white and adorned with great pillows and throws. In fact, as you entered you could grab a bag of popcorn (and may I add with no company logo printed on them, just a clean black bag), a drink and a pillow and/or throw that were also being “served.”
The DJ was fantastic and the beautiful crowd mingled, sipped and lounged while waiting for the main event. After a brief intro the film started. All 750 guests hushed up, found a space, found a bedmate or 6 and watched the flick. And I mean we actually watched the flick. I couldn’t believe that this energy filled space that was buzzing with talent became totally silent. The event brought in the auduence, but the audience got the event.
Welcome to doing business and having fun in New York. I love the combo.