Giving thanks

Gatherings are taking place throughout our land today to celebrate Thanksgiving. 

We are so blessed to live in this country. 

I remember attending a dinner party in Paris years past. Throughout the entire evening my Parisian dinner partners detailed for me all that is wrong with the U.S. and its inhabitants. Quietly, a charming gentleman leaned over to me and with a twinkle in his eye said, "Don't take what we say too seriously. We would all give our right arm to carry an American passport." 

That moment is with me today. 

Such blessings for living in America. Nothing is perfect, but I would venture to say that we come as close as possible and the world knows that.

My wish is that one day soon everyone may have peace of mind and heart and that the joy of this special day is truly for everyone. I think that may be achieved by all of us first trying to give back and then we may certainly give thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Time to Vote!

These past months have been quite a ride. 

I have worked many hours this past year for the

 Obama for America Campaign, 

 Obama Victory Fund, 

 Democratic National Committee  and

 Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. 

I have spoken with many individuals, reaching out to them, reminding each one what is at stake on our journey to this historic election.

People have shared with me their pain, their frustration and their discontent. But what they have shared with me more than all else is their hope for the future of this great country and their pride and conviction that President Obama has accomplished many great things in spite of so many efforts to undermine his goals and achievements.

I received my lessons in Democratic Party essentials at my father's knee. All that I know and believe began at a very young age. Now, so many years later, I hold even stronger conviction of my Democratic beliefs with so many stories having been shared with me by fellow Americans.

Today we vote! 

Such an American tenet of our democracy. 

May all the work that I and my fellow democrats have extolled reap reward today.

Jersey Tomatoes

Living in Southern California affords me the abundance and availability of every veggie and fruit imaginable. Our Farmers' Markets are exceptional and we are fortunate to be able to visit them on a weekly schedule throughout the year. 

One item that is missing from this Californian cornucopia is the Jersey Tomato. I have searched for years to experience a tomato that is reminiscent of those grown in NJ. Alas, none are to be found. That is not to imply that we do not have tomatoes aplenty. We do. They simply do not taste remotely like a Jersey 'tom-tom' as my father called them. 

Daddy would harvest his annual crop in late summer when they were still green. He would then carefully wrap each one in newspaper and store them in the cool and darkened basement in a farmer's bushel basket. Each evening when he came home from work he would go to the basement, select several of his prized 'tommies' (another favorite name which he gave them), bring them up to the kitchen and place them on the windowsill so that they could ripen within a day or two and be ready to eat. Their amazing metamorphosis from green-to-red could be measured on a hourly basis.

My father hated the ending of summer. It was his favorite season. The daily ritual of ripening his tommies on the windowsill long after the season had past enabled him to hang onto summer just a little longer than everyone else.

So, for those of you who are fortunate enough to still have some tommies available, be they Jersey or not, here is a great tomato salad recipe that is quite delectable and at the same time very healthy for you.
 Enjoy!


Summertime Jersey Tomato Salad

• 6  red ripened Jersey tomatoes (if you can't get Jersey tomatoes, Beefsteak will do), cored and cut into wedges
• 1 small red onion, finely chopped
• 4 red radishes, finely sliced
• 1 red pepper, cored and finely chopped
• 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil (I use California olive oil)
• 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
• pinch of red pepper flakes
• kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients in a glass or ceramic bowl. Chill for at least 30 minutes and serve promptly.

Great side dish for chicken.

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Fun, Fun, Fun

She was as black as black could be.
 So very, very black. 

Sleek and contoured. 
A real head turner. 
The classic Mad Men era beauty.
She had accessories no one else had and she wore them well.

 I admired her from afar. 
My sister actually knew her first.

And then good fortune came my way and we became inseparable. 
We cruised the local highways and byways. 
She was always ready for a good time and ever reliable.
Even the Beach Boys captured her in melody and lyrics.


My Dad was as cool as was she. 
No, actually, he was way cooler.
When he first handed me HER KEYS it was a moment beyond compare.
How I treasured each and every time I got to be with her.
To think that he actually let me take her out when I was newly licensed is amazing to me still.
No one but my father understood what it meant to me.
He understood me better than anyone; then and now.
So, today I am missing them both.
I miss my T Bird and everything she brought to me in  my youth.
  I miss my Dad.
I miss him each and every day.
Days like this one . . .  Father's Day. . .  always sharpen the pain. 
He alone knew how important the right wheels were for a newbie driver.
Especially one who had an opportunity to be behind the wheel of a Thunderbird.
Thanks, Daddy. You were always the best and still are.
It was 
Fun . . . Fun . . . Fun

Day Is Done
Memorial Day 2012


My Brother, My Hero


I never spent much time with my brother, Larry. We had different mothers and he was a generation older than me. We shared a father and a last name; little more for many years.

When I was a young adult and newly married, my father reconciled with Larry and it was the beginning of a new chapter in our lives. Unfortunately, it was to be short lived. But as they say ," 'tis better to have loved and lost than . . . "

My brother was a sergeant major in the US Army. He served several tours in Viet Nam, was married to Emma, his Italian bride whom he met while serving in Europe and together they raised three wonderful children. He was nearing his retirement while stationed in Turkey. That's when the dormant and ugly head of Agent Orange began to suck on and snuff out the life of my dear brother. The months that followed the first tell tale signs of what was to come were gruesome and heartbreaking. His was a death beyond measure. My father, newly connected to his son, closed up his home in Florida, and together with my mother, drove to Fort Hood Army Base in Texas where my brother was hospitalized. He spent the next several months at my brother's dying bedside. Day in, day out with no exception.

God works in mysterious ways. Though my father and brother lost many years between them, those final months at Larry's bedside allowed a reconciliation to behold. I can still see my Dad feeding Larry, wiping his mouth  after every spoonful and kissing him hello and good-bye as if they had always had this rapport.

The end was painful for Larry as was the entire journey of his greatest battle fought; that being the fight-to-the-end with Agent Orange.

Military funerals are exceptional. We watch them on television, but observe from afar. Participating in one is an honor, though heartbreaking. They reach into your soul and leave an imprint  that you carry forever.

The day of Larry's funeral was rainy. Gray Texan sky, broad and wide, with raindrops softly falling. Tears from heaven, I thought. I held myself together until that unparalleled moment when that solitary soldier appears upon the knoll, bugle in hand. My heart was heavy with sorrow, but little did I imagine the overwhelming throbbing pain I would feel when the bugler raised his trumpet and began his solitary song. A moment in time that lives with me now as do my memories of my brother, Larry.

May all those who served and gave themselves for us look down upon us this Memorial Day and bestow upon us the strength and bravery that they showed in their final hours.

"Day is Done . . . God is Nigh."

FRANKLIN ARMS TEA ROOM - BLOOMFIELD, NJ

TEA TIME WITH MOM

Mother's Day has the power to resurface buried memories of years past, of times spent with Mom and warm reflections of special days shared just between the two of you.

I can't imagined what prompted my memory of lunching with my mother at the Franklin Arms Tea Room so many, many moons ago. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant recapture of a more innocent time when mothers took their daughters to such 'ladies only'  venues for a special luncheon.

The proprietress  was always there to welcome you at the door of this colonial era former travelers lodge. She was impeccably dressed,  her makeup was expertly applied, coif was without a flaw and her perfume signaled both her entrance and exit from each and every room.

Everyone in attendance was dressed 'to the nines' and my mother exemplified the best of taste when it came to knowing what to wear and how to wear it.  My ensemble was always of a preppy nature; no frills for this daughter allowed. I dreamed of ruffles and crinolines at the time, but upon reflection I must give credit where credit is due and acknowledge my mother's wisdom with my wardrobe selections.

The highlight of my luncheon would be the Shirley Temple cocktail. It made me feel totally grown up and the extra cherry didn't hurt to affirm my conviction. My mother and I always split a sandwich when we went out to lunch, but the Franklin Arms was the one exception to that practice. I can't imagine why, but I do recall that I would order the liverwurst on rye, an odd selection for a young girl. Perhaps it was what I was accustomed to, but still an unique choice.

The tea room was frequented by blue-rinse tinted ladies. At the time I was convinced that all older women's hair turned blue as they aged. Silly me! I also thought that their cheeks became exceptionally rosy as the years passed. I was totally clueless.

I have never had a daughter of my own to bring to a tea room. My sons preferred sports-theme environs and that, too, has been an educational process for me. It doesn't really matter whether it be a tea room or a rugged sports pub to share those special moments as either a mother or a child. The memories are still made and for this Mother's Day I give tribute to my mother for the happy moments that she created for me.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL!

Tempus Fugit

Tempus Fugit

Best Wishes

from

Chez Laurice

for a

Happy

Healthy 

and 

Prosperous 

New Year