Bloomin’ Update 37: Hazy Shade Of Winter


Rain Reflection

The forecasters have predicted all week about spring-like temperatures this weekend.  So when Saturday morning arrived, I jumped out of bed like a kid eager to hear news that school was closed for a snow day.  I know mild January temperatures are out of the ordinary — unless this is the new ordinary — but I had big plans for this weekend, even if it was just some basic tidying up of fallen twigs and leaves.

Imagine my surprise, though, when I looked outside and saw nothing but gray and wet.  I don’t know if the forecasters neglected to mention rain with the spring-like temps or if I just stopped listening to the forecast when I heard spring.

In any event, I decided to make the best of it — because when life gives you rain on your garden, grab a camera and take some pictures.

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Whiling Away A Winter’s Day


Oak Leaf In Snow

What to do?  It’s an early January day, one of those odd ones that’s wedged between cold fronts.  On Long Island, that means it sort of feels like March, and there is an urge to bundle up and start spring cleaning — while the inner voice says, “Don’t be too quick.  This is just a winter lull, and there will be icy temperatures at any moment.”

As if to serve as a reminder, there are the remnants of last night’s flurries (above) and autumn leaves encased in ice on top of the pool cover (below).

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“And the Liebster Blog Award Goes To . . .”


Liebster-Blog-AwardBlog awards come in all shapes and sizes — but few can bring a smile to my face like the Liebster Award.  It’s a funny — and a fun — word to say.  Go ahead, give it a try.  “Ah, my little Liebster, how are you today?”

See what I mean?  You have to smile when you say it.

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2012 In Review


This post, animation and all, comes courtesy of WordPress — and a good thing, too.  Joe and I arrived home last night after a 21-hour drive from Florida, stayed up even later to watch the ball drop in Times Square, and are now trying to organize our lives for the upcoming work week.  Words are definitely not at the top of the to-do list.  Nap, yes.  Words, no.

So my thanks and gratitude to all of you for making 2012 extra special.  Happy 2013!

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 39,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 9 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

Bloomin’ Update 36: Wish You Were Here


Joe, also known as “Joey Coconuts,” and I are spending Christmas week in South Florida.  When I tell that to people, their reactions usually fall into one of two categories.  First, there are those who would like to jump into my luggage.  Sure!  Then, there are those who wonder if a South Florida Christmas can even feel like Christmas.  It does, only it’s warmer.

The only moment when both groups are in agreement is when they stare, speechless, after I explain that Joe and I are going to Florida to do yard work.  Yes, that’s the perfect vacation — and since there isn’t too much time to write, I thought I would share some photos.

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And So This Is Christmas


Santa 2

This is not the post I planned for today.  I originally wanted to write something funny about one of my favorite holiday films, Christmas In Connecticut, or poke fun at myself for crying over Christmas carols, like Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home).”

Today, though, I have a need to write a long post (my apologies) about a very different Christmas in Connecticut, a very different Christmas in America — and the idea that I, and I think most of us, cannot stop crying — with or without Christmas carols.   For me, the overwhelming sadness is just below the skin.  It doesn’t take much — the news, a moment of silence, an overheard conversation — to unleash a flood of tears.

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My Miracle Before Christmas


Miracle

Miracle.  It’s one of those words that’s often tossed about, especially at this time of year.  Just Google the phrase “Christmas miracle” and see what comes up — miracles, it seems, are no longer just on 34th Street.  They are, in fact, everywhere — and on this particular day, they make up a large part of my life.

Today, is my 15th birthday.  Geez, it was only a few days ago I was 12 — or, rather, being an uncle and having to purchase a Christmas gift for my 12-year-old niece.

Never mind, though — today I am celebrating the miracle of being 15.

December 12, 1997, was like many of those Long Island winter days — not sure if it wanted to be cold enough to snow or warm enough to rain.  The result was a gray, damp, slushy mix that left a coating of black ice on the pavement — and this was my commute home.

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My Nightmare Before Christmas


IMG_2347

It’s official.  I’m old.

Although 50 is around the corner; although I wince each time I hear ‘80s music on an oldies-but-goodies radio station; and although the sunlight reflecting off of the grays and silvers in my hair causes a halo effect — I never considered myself old.

Until I went to the mall to shop for some Christmas gifts for my 12-year-old niece.

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