Some people have to watch out for the foot that lives in their mouth.

Background: My husband lost his brother, William, in the World Trade Center attack on September 11. William is survived by two brothers and one sister, Silvia.

True story: Did not happen to me, but to my sister-in-law, Silvia, in Florida....

Silvia was at the beauty parlor she owns with her sister-in-law and was talking about how she was against the United States going to war with Iraq. There was this lady who was worshiping Bush and commenting on how she was all for the war because of the fight against terrorism. The lady was quite upset with Silvia and said, “Well, you’d be singing a different tune if you had lost someone at the World Trade Center on 9/11!”

Well, now.......

“Fools are wise until they speak.”
~Randle Cotgrave

 
My husband and I wanted to celebrate our first wedding anniversary in our favorite place at the time... Lancaster, Pennsylvania. We wanted to experience the simple life as close as possible to locals, and short of staying with the Amish, which would not have happened, I knew we would have to find a Mennonite home.

I got a list of Mennonite families that lived on farms and that had a bed and breakfast. I called most of them and my first questions were: 1) Do you have a television in the room, 2) Do you have cable, and, 3) Do you have air conditioning? If any of the questions was answered in the positive, the place was not for us. Those were modern conveniences we did not want.

On the umpteenth call where someone actually picked up, (I hung up if I had to leave a message on an answering machine), I spoke to a Mr. Luke Hess. Not only did they live on a farm, but they had no television in the room and definitely no cable. They also had no air conditioning, though it being August might have been something to look forward to, but not for us.

We arrived at the farm. It was secluded, and was an actual working pig farm. They also had a garden where they grew most of their food. The customary horse and dogs were on the property as well. It was wonderful!

The Hesses were wonderful and introduced us to their family of four children; Lucille, then 15, Delbert, 12, Doretta, 9, and Doug 6. We also met their parents, were invited to a Mennonite service, and ate freshly made sticky buns and Shoefly Pie, two classic Pennsylvania Dutch “must have” goods. The Hesses quickly became dear friends. Our first wedding anniversary was made extra memorable because of them.

We visited and stayed with them every weekend for one year while we house hunted in Lancaster. Our friendship with them and the Mennonite community deepened. When we bought a house in Long Island instead, it was sad to think how much we would miss Lancaster and it’s friendly people, especially Luke and Dot and family.

It has been seventeen years since we first met the Hess family. Last Saturday, April 12th, we attended the wedding of Delbert to Katie Curtis. This was the third Hess wedding to which we had been invited. Ten years ago we were invited to Lucille’s wedding to Dave Metzler. They now have two children, Kira, age 6, and Micah, almost one. Almost four years ago we went to Doretta’s wedding to Bill Giersch. Doug, who is now 23 years old, has a steady girlfriend. They have all grown up and are a strikingly handsome family. It is always such a wonderful experience visiting with such dear friends, that despite the fact that we do not see each other often, we are still close to them and they to us. One day I suspect that the entire Hess family will attend the wedding of our daughter whom they have known since she was a baby. It will be an honor for us.

Almost seventeen years ago we met the Hess family. Their sincere and warm friendship was the best anniversary present ever.

"A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one finds a treasure."
~Sirach 6:14

 
I drink coffee for the taste, not for the pick-me-up feeling. I started drinking coffee when I was fourteen, for medicinal purposes back then. I drink it now for the love of it. Medicinal purposes, you may ask? Those of you who have suffered from migraines know that sometimes a good, strong cup of coffee may relieve the pain.

I have many treasured memories that involve coffee. The one that comes to mind now is when my daughter was a baby, about six months. I put her in the playpen that I kept in the kitchen. I sat at the table to sip my coffee, decaf, of course, since I was nursing. My baby walked over to my side and standing on tippy-toes, holding on to the end of the playpen, she started opening her mouth in order that I give her some of what I had. With her baby spoon I took a small amount of my coffee and gave it to her. She drank it and started to nod her head in approval. “Ma, ma” meant “more, more” so I gave her a bit more. The nod, again, this time accompanied by the smacking of her lips. A true connoisseur!

Other memories are when my daughter was taking music lessons, my husband and I would spend an hour every week at Starbucks just enjoying each others company. We really looked forward to her music lessons so we could share an hour together and drink our coffee.

That’s when I realized how pouty I am about my coffee. I once ordered my favorite, a latté, and what I got was a cup full of warm foam! For three dollars and seventy five cents I wanted a latté! It took a while to remember to ask for my latté the way I like it: Double shot, decaf, extra hot, no foam, tall latté!

My grandparents were coffee drinkers. My father was a coffee drinker. They all loved their coffee scalding hot too. My husband was not a coffee drinker when we started going out. I managed to convert him. My daughter enjoys a sip from my cup every now and then, memories in the making. My sister, Bertha, and I love to sit and drink our morning brew and just chat. In college, we would cut the first class just to go and have coffee and a donut in the corner donut shop of our neighborhood.

Coffee is such a social event. The highlight of a dinner party is dessert accompanied with good, strong cup coffee. That is when the conversation gets good. That is when most memories are made.

I love coffee. I love the many moments shared with great friends and family and a pot of freshly brewed coffee. I drink it now for the love of it, but I keep my eyes open for that special memory.

"If you'll excuse me a minute, I'm going to have a cup of coffee."
~Broadcast from Apollo 11's LEM, Eagle, to Johnson Space Center, Houston (July 20, 1969).

 
The problem with being invited to a wedding is that you need to wear something nice and undoubtedly, you need to buy a new outfit. The problem gets worse if you do not like shopping to begin with and wait for the last minute to do so.

I waited until the day before the wedding to buy a dress for myself and my daughter. She was the easy one; we found a dress quickly and painlessly. I, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

Finding the dress was the easy part; having to try it on was a different story, and the reason I despise shopping, the reason I wait to the last minute. This is what I was submitted to in the fitting room: (to be read with the heaviest “Lawng” Island accent imaginable!)

“Oh, my gaaaaaaaawd, Staceyyyyyyyyyyy! That dress looks gawrgeous on you! Oh, my gawd! You look like a model! That dress is sooooo you! Oh, my gawd! Oh, you should definitely buy that dress! Oh, my gawd! It is perfect! ...... Now the only thing you need are boobs! But that is easy.... you can buy those! Cause that dress needs you to have boobs! But, oh my gawd! You look like a model, Stacey!”

Now if that is not a deterrent to go shopping, I do not know what is!

We have another wedding to attend in July. No one from the wedding we went to this past Saturday, in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, will be in the wedding this July. Maybe I can get away with wearing the same outfit.

“It pains me physically to see a woman victimized, rendered pathetic, by fashion.”
~Yves Saint-Laurent

 
SPRING n. a time or season of growth or development; specifically: the season between winter and summer comprising in the northern hemisphere usually the months of March, April, and May or as reckoned astronomically extending from the March equinox to the June solstice.
~Merriam-Webster online dictionary

Okay. Now that I have confirmed my suspicions on the definition of the season of the year that I thought we were in, I have to surmise one thing..... I have slept through the entire year of 2003 and have woken up in February 2004!

You do not believe me? If you live on Long Island, just look out your window, or better yet, step outside your door. What do you see? Snow! What did I spend close to two hours doing? Shoveling snow! Yes, snow! Four inches deep! In April! Or so I thought it was April.

I thought we had celebrated my husband’s birthday yesterday. My husband’s birthday is April 6th to be exact! I remember having a wonderful time with guests over for dinner on Saturday and Sunday. I must have had a wonderful time celebrating. Strange thing is, I do not remember having any alcoholic drink! But I must have slept through 2003. Can you give me another reason why we would have a blizzard in spring? February is the blizzard month!

My husband must have known this was going to happen because he conveniently left this morning to visit his parents in Florida. Yes, I said Florida! Boy, anything to get out from shoveling snow again!

Someone, please wake me up in spring! I am going back to bed. I just looked out the window again and it is still snowing! Sigh!

“We need spring. We need it desperately and, usually, we need it before God is willing to give it to us."
~Peter Gzowski

 
Sunday, March 30th was a very long day. It started very early for us and the rest of the team of Tae Kwon Do competitors, coaches, and family members from Michael Pam’s US Tae Kwon Do school. We all met at the Sayville school at six o’clock in the morning as previously agreed to. The plan was for us to follow each other, caravan style, and make the three-hour trip to the site of a big tournament in Waterford, Connecticut. My daughter was going to compete in forms and sparring in the green belt division. This was her second tournament.

Unlike the first tournament she went to back in November, this tournament was well organized and the skill level of the competitors was high. My daughter came in fourth place for forms and was doubting she would get a medal for sparring. The other competitors seemed stronger and taller. Matt, her dear friend and a skilled black belt, won a bronze medal in sparring. The competition was tough.

While we waited for my daughter’s turn to spar, the female black belts were competing directly in front of us. Ralph, Matt’s dad, and I were watching them when all of a sudden a girl did a back kick and hit her opponent in the face. The girl, 14, had her nose broken. Blood was profusely dripping from her nose. Exactly what I needed to see minutes before my daughter was to compete! How to tell her, without making her even more nervous, to guard her face because of what happened just thirty feet away?

My daughter won a silver medal for sparring; no broken bones, no blood, just one very sweaty teen. That was not the case for another male competitor who was carried away with a dislocated kneecap after he received one kick.

There’s always a risk of injury no matter what sport you practice, but the hope is that it never happens to you or your precious child. I know this. My husband knows this. My daughter knows this. It is a risk we are all willing to deal with because she loves this sport. She loves all types of sports, but I cannot tell her to stay home. I dislocated my wrist while ice-skating when I was thirteen. I fell on the ski slopes more times than I care to remember. So, no, I cannot tell my daughter to bury her rollerblades or her skateboard, and when she goes skiing, I will cover my eyes as she zooms down the expert trails.

We made it back to Long Island at 11:30pm. We were all very tired; tired, but proud. Almost everyone from the school won a medal that day. There is another big tournament in June. Her friend, Jessie, who won a silver medal for sparring in the poom division, will be going. Matt, I know for sure, will be going. My daughter wants to go. We will drive her there, caravan style, again.

“Take a chance! All life is a chance. The man who goes the furthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare. The ‘sure thing’ boat never gets far from shore.”
~Dale Carnegie