Nope I’m not talking about that great rush you do to finish up buying those last minute gifts. New Yorkers like myself are more concern red about finding a way to work or a way to get out to finish there Christmas s shopping. Oy. Yesterday like most of New Yorkers I held my breath hoping that the strike wouldn’t happen. Well it did and then there was the scramble to find other means to get into work. Yeah, yeah I could of done the sane thing and stayed home but heck I’m a New Yorker and if a little thing like a blackout wouldn’t stop me from going to work why should not having my regular transport stop me. I’m sure you figured out the punch line already but let me give you more insight into the workings of the great Strike Exodus.
I’ve been staying at a relatives house so I could get a ride to a train that was working if the strike was to occur. I’ve been without my computer which means no internet (except when I can sneak on at work shhhh…. don’t tell anyone). On Monday morning I was so happy there was service I did a little jig yes you heard me I danced to work on my merry way. Then on Tuesday came the strike. I went to the train I could take which is really out of my way. It was a Metro North and waiting on that platform I was feeling that cold air. Getting in to work wasn’t to bad. I even made a friend on the train and we talked to our stop. When I arrived at Grand Central it was okay and my new friend helped me find a bus that my job had set up to take us into lower manhattan. After a few almost crazy moments I got where I needed to be. Again it wasn’t so bad.
Then reality struck as I left to go home. My job transport was nowhere to be found for hours I was in the cold. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet. Finally I got on the transport and made it back to Grand Central at about 8 o’clock and let me tell you. I’ve never seen so many people. It was a mass of moving bodies all rushing to get out of the city. Now this was already almost 8 o’clock at night. And it was a mad house. An Exodus of people you would not believe. I was lucky enough to catch another family member on the phone and ask to get a ride uptown. Now I had to trek back through the crowd to get out. Got to the doors and found I was locked in they weren’t letting anyone in or out. It was crazy. Well after a few choice words I was able to get out and make my flight to meet my ride who was six blocks away coming uptown and would meet me at 42 street. I walked fast as I could.
But then the funniest thing happened. I took a glance around and slowed down and appreciated the beauty around me. If you have visited around Grand Central before especially at Christmas you realize what I mean. It was beautiful even though everyone was running around to get where they were going. The air was cold and crisp. The sounds of New York was alive and well. The people were being New Yorkers by dealing with what was thrown at us as best as they could. In that moment my love of New York came into me. Now don’t get me wrong I was still pissed at having such a crappy commute but I was in the heart of New York City and there is no feeling like it. I walked on appreciating the sight and sounds. I still made it in time to meet my ride, was stuck in traffic for hours but hey I came away with the beauty of what New York is.
This Strike Exodus is going on and no one knows how long it will take. I have to be to work no matter what anyway. So each day I’m waiting to see what experience I will come away with.
McKenna
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
The scent of Mama’s cooking
Happy Holidays! I hope everyone is having a wonderful blessed season. Give thanks for all your blessings.
It’s been an interesting few months for me. My computer in October conked out on me. I’ve recently received the new one and still getting familiar with it. The long wait for a new one gave me a lot of time to think and contemplate about everything that happened in this last year.
When I thought about everything I was amazed and saddened how things changed. Not the day to day changes of life but the one that shake your core and change you irrevocably. My biggest change this year was the passing of my mother. And the holiday’s brings it out even more. I miss her so much. I’ve fought away the sadness and instead will celebrate as we usually do each year. Cooking and baking as we usually do.
Each time I bake or cook one of my mother recipe many things overcome me but there two things that stand out. The first is of course the memories of being in the kitchen with her. For as long back as I can remember I was always underfoot when my mom cooked and I wanted to learn. I remember my first time I baked a cookie on my own I was eight at the time. My mom was shocked when she came home to find the cookie. Did you catch that “cookie” in there? No It’s not a typo. I made a cookie with a recipe that should have made about a batch. Mine was one big fat cookie that covered an entire pan. It was soft and delicious. I remember that my Mom was so proud and barely got a bite before my brother ate it off. LOL. Ahhh…. The memories.
Comfort is the second thing that comes to me. To me cooking and baking gives me time to think. There is nothing like kneading dough to get all your thoughts in order. It is a therapeutic thing. The work brings me comfort and takes me to a place where I can experiment yet get my mind off of things. Hmmm… that bring a whole new meaning to the term “comfort foods”. Each person has that comfort food that no matter what is happening the thought of it brings a smile to your face and tummy. LOL. I used to call my Mom and say “make me a bowl of love”. This was our own little code for her to make a bowl of hot cereal (it’s didn’t matter which one). I call it love because I knew that is how she made it. With love. She used to kid and ask why don’t you make it (since she knew I could cook almost as well as she did). I told her that it doesn’t taste as good. Believe me when I made it for myself it just didn’t taste as sweet. I’m sure you know what I am talking about. Well Mom laughed and made it and she even turned the table on me a few times and asked that I make her a bowl of love. I did it since we are an equal opportunity “bowl of love” household. LOL. From generation to generation cooking has been passed down in my family.
Lately I find myself more and more in the kitchen just thinking. As I think I wondered about how the preparation of food then the cooking of it that is passed down in families. You can have many families preparing the same thing but the way they prepare it is what makes them different and unique. Uniqueness is the dynamic of the family. This led me to questions of families.
What is it about the preparation then the scent of foods made using mama or grandma’s recipes that invokes so much memories, feelings, and comfort? What about it that makes your family unique?
It’s been an interesting few months for me. My computer in October conked out on me. I’ve recently received the new one and still getting familiar with it. The long wait for a new one gave me a lot of time to think and contemplate about everything that happened in this last year.
When I thought about everything I was amazed and saddened how things changed. Not the day to day changes of life but the one that shake your core and change you irrevocably. My biggest change this year was the passing of my mother. And the holiday’s brings it out even more. I miss her so much. I’ve fought away the sadness and instead will celebrate as we usually do each year. Cooking and baking as we usually do.
Each time I bake or cook one of my mother recipe many things overcome me but there two things that stand out. The first is of course the memories of being in the kitchen with her. For as long back as I can remember I was always underfoot when my mom cooked and I wanted to learn. I remember my first time I baked a cookie on my own I was eight at the time. My mom was shocked when she came home to find the cookie. Did you catch that “cookie” in there? No It’s not a typo. I made a cookie with a recipe that should have made about a batch. Mine was one big fat cookie that covered an entire pan. It was soft and delicious. I remember that my Mom was so proud and barely got a bite before my brother ate it off. LOL. Ahhh…. The memories.
Comfort is the second thing that comes to me. To me cooking and baking gives me time to think. There is nothing like kneading dough to get all your thoughts in order. It is a therapeutic thing. The work brings me comfort and takes me to a place where I can experiment yet get my mind off of things. Hmmm… that bring a whole new meaning to the term “comfort foods”. Each person has that comfort food that no matter what is happening the thought of it brings a smile to your face and tummy. LOL. I used to call my Mom and say “make me a bowl of love”. This was our own little code for her to make a bowl of hot cereal (it’s didn’t matter which one). I call it love because I knew that is how she made it. With love. She used to kid and ask why don’t you make it (since she knew I could cook almost as well as she did). I told her that it doesn’t taste as good. Believe me when I made it for myself it just didn’t taste as sweet. I’m sure you know what I am talking about. Well Mom laughed and made it and she even turned the table on me a few times and asked that I make her a bowl of love. I did it since we are an equal opportunity “bowl of love” household. LOL. From generation to generation cooking has been passed down in my family.
Lately I find myself more and more in the kitchen just thinking. As I think I wondered about how the preparation of food then the cooking of it that is passed down in families. You can have many families preparing the same thing but the way they prepare it is what makes them different and unique. Uniqueness is the dynamic of the family. This led me to questions of families.
What is it about the preparation then the scent of foods made using mama or grandma’s recipes that invokes so much memories, feelings, and comfort? What about it that makes your family unique?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
