To Courtney with love . . . from Mama Doris

Dana presenting Courtney with the quilt

There were many special items that belonged to our family that we had to sell or give away because they wouldn’t fit in our tiny New York City apartment, but the beautiful, hand-made quilts that were so exquisitely sewn by the women in my life were not among those things that left our side. Those quilts today reside in a cedar chest (that also found its way north) that belonged to my grandparents Dana and N.E. Jones that I remember gracing the front bedroom of their home on Frederica Street in Hartford, Kentucky.

The quilts in that chest were made by various women in my life: my Mommy; Honey, my name for the aforementioned grandmother Dana; and her mother, Grandma Fuqua. The bright colors, the intricate patterns, the purple cross-stitch flowers that adorn some the most beautiful quilts that Mommy made – all of them reside in that cedar chest, awaiting their turn to adorn a loved-one’s bed.

This weekend we gifted one of Mommy’s quilts to Courtney, one of our girls’ – and our family’s – most beloved friends. Courtney has been a part of our family since she and Dana met in the fall of 1999 as two equally-geeky freshmen in the Gainesville High School band. Over the years Courtney

has spent many hours with our family, from days at GHS and Florida State University – to exploring Italy individually with both Dana and Jenni – to standing alongside Jenni as Dana and Nate married in 2014. Equally important Courtney became close to Mommy – or as Dana, Jenni and their friends knew her – Mama Doris. When Larry, Dana, Nate and I were in Italy during Mommy’s birthday in May of 2012 (and Jenni was a Peace Corp Volunteer in the Dominican Republic), Courtney took Mommy to dinner. She has always been there for us.

So, we can’t imagine anyone we’d rather have one of Mommy’s beautiful creations than Courtney – and Brandon, her soon-to-be husband.  We can’t wait to celebrate their nuptials this June – in the gorgeous Colorado mountains. Courtney and Brandon, we love you – and thank you for being a special part of our family!

Ode to Miss Mary Lou . . .

There was an interesting post earlier this week on my Facebook feed that probably made many of us who grew up in Hartford, Kentucky in the 1960s consider what an amazing woman might have been in our midst. It was a post about Miss Mary Lou Smith, the Wayland Alexander Elementary School principal who many of us feared. Yet, it took a comment from someone who didn’t even grow up in Hartford to point out how amazing it was that in the 1960s a woman was our principal. I’d never really thought about that accomplishment and the challenges Miss Mary Lou must have endured in reaching that level of responsibility in those days.

Yes, we feared her. She roamed the halls of our  elementary school, paddle in hand. She had no problem swatting the back-end of any student who didn’t abide by the rules, but it was only because she wanted the best for her students. I still remember third grade when our class was trying to decide on an end-of-the-year gift for our teacher Mrs. Byers and decided to get together in our classroom prior to the school day starting (which was against the rules – you were supposed to go to the flag room where everyone went before the start of school). Miss Mary Lou discovered our meeting and lined every one of us – backs against the wall – all the way down the hall. Once the bell rang for the start of school, the kindergartners walked by us on their way to class, wondering what on earth those “old” kids could have done to have 20+ of us lined up against the wall. As someone who at that point was quiet and very shy, I was humiliated and figured my life as I knew it was over.

Recently though in this time of renewed interest in women's issues, I've come to the realization that in those early days in Hartford, Kentucky, we were surrounded by strong women: Miss Mary Lou Smith, Ernestine McConnell, Alice Triplett, Lucille Shapmire and others. They instilled in all of us – boys and girls alike – the love of learning and the importance of caring for others. It was a community before we knew what that actually meant.

Looking back over the years, I have learned to appreciate growing up in a small town where we were enveloped by responsibility, community and love.  Today, as a woman who has grown up in an era where we women strive to be considered as equals and hope to gain opportunities that were typically afforded to men, I now wonder how Miss Mary Lou and those like her who in a time where it was unusual just to work – let alone be the leader of the elementary school – made it to the epitome of education.

May we always remember to thank these strong women who came before us – and who taught us that we could do anything, be anything.

Grocery shopping without a car

So it’s been roughly a year and eight months since I sold my fire-engine red Honda Accord with a V-8 engine (yes, it could fricking fly and yes, it was just a little bit of my mid-life crisis car since I couldn’t afford a BMW) and we moved to New York City carless.

So you might ask how does one shop – especially for groceries –when all you buy has to be carried home.  Well here’s how we’ve made it work:

Citarella's seafood counter

First, we don’t necessarily go with the adage of buy just what you need today, but we’re close.  The nice thing is there are multiple places to pop into when you do just need a couple of items. Whether it’s the small grocery a 2-minute walk from my Barnard office with good produce and meat departments or the fruit and vegetable stand guys on street corners throughout the Upper West Side where you can literally buy five bananas for a dollar or a green pepper for 25 cents. Or I can pop into Citarella (still my favorite grocery, albeit also the most expensive) for seafood, cheese or an amazing cut of beef or grab a baguette from my favorite bakery on the corner as I exit the subway station.

Next, Amazon is our best friend.  All the staples or anything heavy – they all show up in our lobby for a quick trip up the elevator to reside on the floor of our bedroom closet (aka the pantry). Doesn’t matter if it's canned black beans, diced tomatoes or Cream of Chicken soup (Healthy Request version for a comforting chicken casserole) or boxed chicken broth, oven fried mix or Missy’s food.  It’s so much easier – and cheaper – to go to Amazon.

The Duane Reade (aka Walgreen in other areas of the country) has a great food selection –dairy, ice cream (my current favorite is Haggen Dazs Carmel Cone), nuts, frozen appetizers and a small selection of grocery staples and household goods.

When it’s warm we walk 20 minutes on Sundays to the farmers market near the Museum of Natural History for a wonderful selection of produce, locally-raised duck, and all kinds of jam, honey and other canned goods.

And finally, we have a Trader Joe’s literally a five-minute walk away – yes, I know there are people who are incredibly jealous that it’s so close – but it is so crowded – not just sometimes, but always, that we only pop in there early mornings or late evenings.