what time is it?

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I had a watch that I loved, but the band broke and it sat on a shelf in my kitchen for… oh… 3 years or so awaiting repair. It’s still there. I’m gonna get get fixed, I swear.

And in the meantime, I kept hoping that I would turn into one of those people who didn’t wear a watch and, as a result, was somehow unencumbered by the contrictions of scheduling and time.

No such luck. I just became one of those annoying people who is always looking at their phone. Plus I found that limiting my kid’s access to screen media (including the iPhone) is much harder when you’re pulling it out of your bag all the time to see what time it is. So I finally gave up and began a search for a new watch in earnest. That I could love. And that wasn’t going to cost me a half a year’s worth of child care.

Finally, it emerged. From the pages of the Martha Stewart Living holiday gift guide, no less. wewood, a company out of Los Angeles, makes beautiful watches out of sustainably grown trees. And ever since I’ve had one of my own, I’ve gotten into loads of conversations with people from all walks of life about how cool it is to have a watch made out of wood.

**Also, if you are serious about saving a few $$s whie you’re at it, go check out RawFeed for coupons on Wewood products. They come and go, but it’s always worth checking before you pay full price, right?

Which makes me happy.

And it also gives me an opening to talk about the importance of usinig sustainable materials whenever possible. Not to mention the fact that the less you are handling your phone, the less radiation you’re getting from it. But that’s another story for another time…

Happy spring

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Finally spring! And while winter wasn’t all that, I’m still excited about the longer days and warmer breezes that are moving in.

So here’s to a renewal of our child like wonder in all aspects of the world. And may we continue to have the ability to look at an unruly clover-filed lawn and see a carpet full of flowers, ripe for the picking.

Because the world, as crazy as it is, continues to be filled with jaw dropping splendor.

Which is the reason we all keep on plugging. Global warming, terrorism, economic meltdowns, do nothing landlords, fatal illness, credit card bills, Rick Santorum and bad boyfriends be damned.

spring cleaning

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So I finally bit the bullet and am doing a juice cleanse. Just a two day voyage, plus you get some millet with a sprinkling of carrot and celery for dinner, which I think is the only reason that I thought I could potntially go through with it. Me, who is a constant snacker and a true lover of food in all of its glory.

Also this particular fast was designed and prepared by Brownie of the shanti shack fame. She is a genius and an incredibe cook, so I knew that the juices would be delectable. And as I have befriended her over the past 18 months of practicing yoga at Kula’s Williamsburg spot, I knew I’d be in good hands.

So here I am, one day and 2 juices into it… And I’m waiting for the soaring feeling of tranquility to kick in. Right now, I’m just a bit chilly (nothing like a little pasta to keep a body warm) but I am feeling oddly clear. And the time is passing more slowly (how long before I can have my next juice?) but I am also getting a hell of a lot more done. Which is reason enough to do this more frequently.

for details about the juices, click below…

I have to say, I have not been at all hungry. I miss chewing, but two days is nothing (talk to me around 6 pm and see how I feel then…)

Here’s what I have been putting into my body:

First up, grapefruit juice to start, which suppresses the appetite and gets the metabolism going. Two hours and a  bunch of water later, comes green juice with spinach, zucchini and citrus for some internal scrubbing. Next up, a blush of beets, apple, strawberry, lime and ginger filled with fiber and the perfect thing to, in Brownie’s words “iron your lunch pains.” For the late afternoon comes the much needed “pep talk” full of clarity inducing agave, jalapeno, lemon, ginger and peppermint. Then, oh happy day, comes the millet, leek and fava “porridge” which is like a miracle in my mouth by this point in a previously all-liquid day. Lastly, for desert, the dew coloada, a “misty mix of honey dew and pineapple to vaporize today’s drop.” This last one is killer. A sweet reward for making it through the day.

Doesn’t sound all that bad, right? And the benefits are legion– everything from cleaning out (and giving a rest to) the digestive tract and eliminating toxic waste in the bloodstream to clearing up the skin and increasing energy. And this particular cleanse comes with a super short meditation in the morning and evening, as well as a short series of yoga poses to help encourage the body to release what it’s been holding on to for so long…

Mind you, I’m only a bit more than halfway through a relatively easy two day cleanse, but I am becoming a convert for sure. I do love my red velvet cake far too much to adopt this way of eating whole hog, but a little refresher every now and again isn’t such a bad thing, right?

I’ll keep you guys posted as to when Brownie decides to do another one. Or, if you are jonesing to get your juice on, check out Organic Avenue for their wide array of cleanses.

you’ve tried all the rest…

food

These people actually are not lying. The pizza at Best Pizza is arguably the best pizza I’ve had in quite some time. And I eat pizza city-wide. Brick oven. Thin crust. Real tomato sauce. Fresh toppings. Granted, I’ve been worn down by lots of last minute what-are-we-having-for-dinner moments at slightly less than optimal joints, but still.

This place rocks. And they play kind of serious Wu Tang style hip hop, which I at once love (because I love it) and hate (because I’m still trying to shelter my pre schooler from straight up swearing and glorification of violence… wish me luck.) It’s never too crowded, and it’s on our way home from school, which for me might be it’s biggest selling point.

Best Pizza can be found at 33 Havemeyer Street (between N8 and N7 in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

They even have a blog: http://bestpizza.tumblr.com/

we shall overcome

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It has been a long road since the 1968 sanitation worker strike in Memphis. And yet it seems like only yesterday.

Today is a day of celebration and remembering the monumental presence of Dr Martin Luther King, Jr in all of our lives, no matter what color.

Tomorrow, we get to work.

And if you need more inspiration, read the words that Dr King spoke to my parents, my in-laws and millions of others on the Washington Mall so many years ago…

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

guilt free xmas trees

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When it comes to Christmas trees, I am a traditionalist. Try as I might to be enthusiastic about little trees in a pot (that I can replant in some forest someplace at some point) or a cool all white kitchy fake tree (landfill fodder, anyone?) I still find myself pulled towards a nice big 7 foot live tree that I stick in some water and load up with as many lights and decorations as I can deal with.

And now that there is a next-generation in my immediate family, we’re even more into it.

But now all those people who look down their noses at us trad tree users can just be quiet. Because NYC Dept of Sanitation is picking up trees curbside and mulching them. The mulch is then used to help take care of the city’s parks and trees. Just put your unadorned tree on the street before January 14th and you’re good.

Or, if you want a piece of the action, this weekend (Jan 7 and 8) is Mulchfest, where, in many parks around the city, you can take your tree, watch skilled professionals run it through a crazy mulching machine, and then walk away with a bag of your own mulch. The Parks Dept keeps the rest.

So let this be my holiday gift to you. A future of live Christmas trees with no guilt attached! See you at Mulchfest…

carousel!

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Sure, tons of people have written about Dumbo’s gloriously renovated Jane’s Carousel. But it took a few spare hours to kill on Christmas day to get my little family down to the waterfront between the bridges to give it a go.

It is now one of our favortie spots on Earth. It is seriously not to be missed.

click below for more photos and info:

First up, the location cannot be beat. The views are spectacular and there is something heroically magical about riding to and fro between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges on a gilded horse like the one below.

And then the renovation, the attention to detail, the beautiful paintings on the side panels, even the wide planked wooden floors are amazing.

So head on down to Brooklyn Bridge Park and check this out. It’s only 2 dollars a ride. And the stunning glass pavilion that houses the carousel (designed by Jean Nouvel) makes the experience impervious to the weather, so no need to wait for a summer day. It is truly one of the city’s best attractions.

And I’m not just saying that because it’s in Brooklyn.

(A little photographic shout out to my bright red holiday shoes!)

happy new year!

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Damn! Why didn’t I buy this at that Krrb auction a couple of months ago?

Oh well. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Here’s to making all the right choices in 2012… Happy New Year everybody!

Today we celebrate (and potentially nurse hangovers.)

Tomorrow– resolution time!

happy merry

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Somehow, despite my adult life’s obligations’ ability to turn “the holidays” into an insanely long and impossible to actually achieve to-do list (not to mention all of the official year-end business that suddenly needs to be taken care of before Dec 31), I still get butterflies in my stomach when I see the massive tree at Rockefeller Center for the first time each year.

This year, I was running (literally sprinting through the crowds) late to see the incredible collection of Elizabeth Taylor’s jewels and frocks on auction at Christie’s when I rounded the corner and found myself face to face with the tree. And I stopped. And smiled. And remembered how much I love where I live and how lucky I am to have so many amazing people and things in my life to take my breath away. And then, of course, I took a picture.

So here’s to you all. May 2012 be even more chock full of your amazingness.

Thank you all for being a part of my reality.

around the way

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Actually, it’s so last minute that at this point Santa’s probably already been to whatever wharehouse he uses in your area to store the gifts till Christmas eve. And if you’re celebrating Hanukkah, your deadline is tonight (though you actually have till the 28th, so it’s not so bad)

So we’re left with what’s down the block (Krrb can help you there, actually,) on Amazon (one day left to get it shipped on time) or MP3′s… or of course donations to your favorite charities.

If you live in Williamsburg’s northside, and you have somebody like me to shop for, consider going to Jumelle and picking her up a pair of the mocassins in the photo above. Soft, furry, warm, perfect.

OK I give up.

Evidently today is one of those days when nothing really works. SO every time I try to upload a new photo of another cool thing that you guys should know about, it comes up blank. I’m taking it as a sign and am going to walk away from my computer right now. Or right after I finish typing and (hopefully) posting this.

And then I’m going to take a little break from shopping and go back to paying attention to the things that are interesting. So much going on in the world these days… who cares about the really cute shiny glittery old fashioned horribly overpriced but who cares Christmas tree ornaments that are to be had at John Derian on Manhattan’s east 2nd Street?