Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Farewell, September, we hardly knew ye...

Can anyone tell me where September actually went? I have this sort of funny mental picture of a cartoon me grasping tightly onto calendar pages that are blowing too swiftly past (like they used to in old movies) to no avail. After the august ennui of August, September was a mere blur...a shadowy glimpse of a month you caught out of the corner of your eye.

This is my favorite time of year and I suspect that's why it seems to go by altogether too fast. I wait anxiously, enjoying the summer for a while, but mentally summoning the first cool evenings of fall. It's like the vacation you wait all year for and it zips by too quickly...that's what all of autumn is for me. The smell of leaves, the smoky fires, pumpkins and hearty soup. And there's nowhere like New England to celebrate the natural wonders of the season. While there are too many miles of scenic roads to ever get to see everything, it's still fun to venture out and stop at apple orchards and pumpkin farms. It's as pretty as every old movie or picture postcard that you've ever seen.

And while we're on the subject of old movies, (okay, we weren't, but I am too written-out from other work to manage a nice clean transition here) I have to admit I am a major fan of Bette Davis. The classic weeper, 1939's Dark Victory, is on now and in addition to her fine performance, I find myself seriously coveting some of her ensembles. During the first half of the film Bette is a total thrill seeker--living a life of fast cars (for 1939), handsome bachelors, and fast horses. So that means Orry-Kelly gowns and an utterly classic wardrobe. There's also an adorable plaid jacket--very Pendleton--that she wears! The movie features an all-star cast of men, too...George Brent, Ronald Reagan (looking stunningly good in a tuxedo) and Humphrey Bogart with an Irish brogue (because all horsemen are Irish and have brogues.) And of course there are horses...a horse named Challenger competing in the Grand National. It's marvelous. And I'm not the only one who thinks so...it was nominated for a few Academy Awards in 1939, but that was a tough year to be any other film than Gone With the Wind. Bette was given a Best Actress nod but lost to Vivien Leigh. The movie also lost Best Picture to GWTW.

So I can hear you wondering, what is her favorite Bette Davis film?  And thank you for asking so I didn't have to make another awkward transition. Hmmm...it's a toss up between All About Eve and Now, Voyager. All About Eve has some of the quickest and most acerbic dialogue ever...it's witty and never dull. Now, Voyager, though, has an edge as it is one of my all-time favorite films. My Jeopardy friend, Myshkin, (we didn't play against each other, but were in LA at the same time for the show) and I have devoted hours of email and discussion to the familial relationships portrayed in the film. I don't think that there's been a frame of the movie that we've not analyzed with scientific intricacy--in the most loving, scientific way, of course. I stop short of actually saying the lines along with Charlotte (Bette Davis' character), but only just.



With apologies for rambling on and a promise to be more cohesive and focused tomorrow (really, I'll try)...I think I'm going to try to watch the Minnesota Twins vs the Detroit Tigers for a few minutes. Any regular readers know that my saying I get a little jittery at defining moments (for team, horses...) is an understatement and tonight is a biggie for the Twinkies.

I'll sign off for tonight with a little Now, Voyager.

HERE's a link to listen to the 1943 Lux Radio Theatre version...it's AWESOME. (Ida Lupino playing the Bette Davis Role and Paul Henreid in his same role.)

And here's a little Walt Whitman...

Now Finale to the Shore
Now finale to the shore,
Now land and life finale and farewell,
Now Voyager depart, (much, much for thee is yet in store,)
Often enough hast thou adventur'd o'er the seas,
Cautiously cruising, studying the charts,
Duly again to port and hawser's tie returning;
But now obey thy cherish'd secret wish,
Embrace thy friends, leave all in order,
To port and hawser's tie no more returning,
Depart upon thy endless cruise old Sailor.


The Untold Want
The untold want by life and land ne'er granted, 
Now voyager sail thou forth to seek and find.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Books + Horses = Lucky 1st Graders!

One of the things I greatly enjoy are dispatches from the old hometown. My parents often send me newspaper clippings of various things or they'll alert me to something of interest in the online version of the local paper, usually it's something relating to an old friend or cause I used to be involved with.

Obviously from my previous posts here, I love books and I love horses, and I especially love books about horses. And to any horse-loving child, the books of Walter Farley are like peppermints to ponies. From the original The Black Stallion in 1941, all the way up until 1989's The Young Black Stallion which Farley wrote with his son, Steven, the series maintained a consistently high standard for its young readers. If you didn't read these classics as a child, it's not too late, you'll no doubt find them in your local library.

So to tie these two loose ends together, the aforementioned hometown paper, The Rochester Post-Bulletin, ran a story over the weekend about two area horses who are going to be auctioned off with the proceeds going to the Rochester Regional Equestrian Center. The RREC will then use the money to partner with the Black Stallion Literacy Foundation to provide two hardcover books to each first-grader at a local elementary school. Riverside Central, the school that would initially benefit from this program, is in the city and has a fairly large immigrant student population. What a great opportunity for city kids, many of whom are not likely to ever get to really spend any time with horses, to possibly be inspired by the these noble creatures. The article goes on to note:

"I've seen firsthand how children bond and relate to horses," said Carol Fosdick, chair of the RREC auction, who has given riding lessons for 10 years. "This program is a definite win-win situation for all beginning readers and their schools."


In the spring, the students would be taken to a local barn to learn more about horses -- how they eat, how they are cleaned and taken care of, and how the tack, such as saddles, bridles and bits, are used. They will even read to the horse, an experience supporters say leaves an indelible impression on young people and fuels a life-long interest in reading."

The full piece by Matthew Stolle is HERE.

The BSLF (check out their website at www.bslf-online.org) has a great mission..."The Black Stallion Literacy Foundation helps children discover the joys of reading and the excitement of learning through the wonders of live horses and Walter Farley's Black Stallion books." What a great way to get kids to read and appreciate animals and the bonds we forge with them. Any time you can get books into the hands of children it's a recipe for success.

The RREC's website also provides lots of good info about this upcoming wine-tasting and fundraiser for the project. They're at www.rrec.info. Also take a look at the two Thoroughbreds that are being auctioned off, one out of Ghazi, one of Minnesota's leading Thoroughbreds. Both are gorgeous and Rushford, won a great race at Canterbury with superb Minnesota jockey Dean Butler in the irons. Their info can be viewed HERE.

What a nice way to begin a Tuesday morning, horse books for lucky 1st graders, new homes for some Minnesota Thoroughbreds and a literacy foundation working hard for horses and kids. Wins all the way around.

Monday, September 28, 2009

The Banning of Atlanta? (sort of)





It's Banned Books Week (September 26 - October 3, 2009) and I was trying to decide what, if anything, I'd have to say on the subject. Honestly, we all know it was unlikely that I was going to remain silent. As I glanced over the banned and challenged list--particularly those that are generally considered classics--I was surprised to find my beloved Gone With the Wind on it. Banning Scarlett's exploits from the greater reading public? Fiddle-dee-dee, as my favorite heroine would no doubt say. To paraphrase the late Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing, "nobody puts Scarlett on a banned book list!"

However, to say it's in good company is an understatement. The list includes The Great Gatsby (actually rather a lot of F. Scott and Faulkner are on the list), To Kill a Mockingbird, Catch-22 and seemingly all of Steinbeck's work. Full disclosure, I'm not a huge Steinbeck fan, but would NEVER for a minute want his work to be off limits to anyone. The list, from the ALA website can be found HERE. (There are several lists, actually, most banned/challenged which is updated every few years and then the classics list.)

I have particularly strong feelings about reading and the freedom to explore and learn--about not only far away places and eras, but more importantly, about ourselves. My parents have my unending gratitude for always encouraging me to read--even when it was checking out The Cat that Clumped** for the millionth time as a very young reader--and never censoring what I brought home from the library or bookstore. Due to my rather "willful nature" (don't you think that's a lovely euphemism for stubborn or mulish?) I would likely have campaigned for my reading freedom had it become necessary, but thankfully, it never was.

Growing up with such great literary choice, I was never terribly conscious of the numbers and types of books that were being banned and challenged in communities and libraries across the country. My friends and I all read what we wanted, we passed around racy romance novels and James Michener books with the "good" parts noted by dog-eared pages; we read Stephen King and sadly, yes, even Alexandra Ripley's ill-considered and poorly written "sequel" to Gone With the Wind, Scarlett. I think for the most part, silly youthful reading choices aside, we turned out pretty well. The brain candy of my teenage years was supplemented with excellent English Lit courses that I devoured, and my reading tastes and interests continued to evolve.

I'm well aware of the arguments put forward by the people who want to keep certain books off shelves for whatever reasons. They'll plead untoward influences or uncomfortable situations; sexual innuendo, racial epithets, explicit language--the usual. But there are more sinister reasons as well. Books allow us to share our experiences and ideas, and even live vicariously through our favorite characters--that's a very potent and real danger in the minds of a few organizations and individuals. Now, I am not a parent, but I can fully understand the wish to protect your child and to guide their reading choices...but that's a far cry from challenging a book in a library or school so that no child is given the opportunity to read it. Parents ought to check in with what their children read and if they don't approve, then that's fine--for their child--but please don't attempt to make that decision for everyone. I don't believe that any one person is qualified to judge a book's merits for the rest of the reading populace. And to my mind, the downside and negative impact of this kind of literary censorship is exponentially worse than any small positive perceived by the pro-censorship lobby. The great works of literature (hell, even the less-than-great) make us feel and think, they raise our aspirations and nurture our empathy. The bawdy adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn; the battling passion and malaise of Hemingway; the brutal precision of Truman Capote--they all are part of the collective literary consciousness. To deny a reader the right to participate in this mind-expanding world is criminal. (And also damned ignorant, if you ask me, but I digress...)

So have I been unduly impacted by the books I've read? Absolutely, and I'm proud of it. I'm utterly corrupted by the written word and I'm at least in part the sum total of my literary consumption. But that's a gift...not something to be concerned about. The more you read, the more you know...it's pretty simple. The more you know, the better equipped you are to think for yourself, choose for yourself, and make an impact of your own. And on the worst days, when everything seems to be wrong, we readers are blessed with our own literary therapists--those go-to books or authors that help make sense of a situation or make us laugh (or cry) so hard that we are able to forget our troubles for the moment. Books help us gain perspective and offer us new lenses through which we can view the world.

In the end, it's about trust, I suppose. Trusting our children or other citizens enough to allow them the opportunity to read what they want without fear of repercussions. Believing that we all benefit from sharing ideas and experiences, from feeling less isolated and more connected. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for trusting me enough to let me enjoy everything on the literary buffet, without guilt or question.

**(For those of you who weren't horse-obsessed children, The Cat That Clumped was about a cat, Hubert, who lived with the Baron. The Baron owned race-horses and Hubert wanted to be a race-horse. But of course he was a cat...therein lies the 'dramatic tension' of the book. Happily, the Baron figures this all out and puts washers on Hubert's feet so he can clump/clomp like the horses and it all ends well.)

Sunday, September 27, 2009

In Defense of Architecture


(Sacre Coeur)

I can already hear you questioning the need to defend architecture. But the seeds of this blog post were sown a few weeks ago during Mad Men (of course) when the team at Sterling Cooper was debating the tearing down of old Penn Station to make room for the soon to be (then) latest incarnation of Madison Square Garden. Lovable "hippie" Paul Kinsey attempts to defend it while the proponents of the razing invoke New York's very own doyenne of architecture, the amazing Ada Louise Huxtable, whom they bemoan as cranky and against the project. And let's face it, architecture and design can be showcases for the best and sometimes the worst of human aspirations.

That started the wheels turning. I had the honor of working with and meeting Ms. Huxtable while working on her book, On Architecture, which was published by Walker & Co last fall. One of the great pleasures of sifting through her volumes of critiques, columns, and books was the broadening of my appreciation for different eras and styles. Because her critic's eye is so well honed, she's able to persuade even the staunchest anti-modernism preservationist (me) about the values of modern architecture. When I expressed my surprise to her that I was really drawn to some of these buildings that I'd always pooh-poohed, she replied that it was what good critics did. They made you think, consider and reconsider. (As an aside, her post-9/11 pieces--from the WSJ--on the WTC and what to do with the space are striking when coupled with her writings on the construction of the Twin Towers in the early 70s.)

E.G: They wanted a photograph of Richard Meier's Hartford Seminary (photo below) for the book. I offered to go to take it myself since it was just up the road and I love taking pictures. I had seen some images of the building in other books and it looked like an oddly shaped igloo formed of ice bricks, so I wasn't expecting much. It was a beautiful spring day and when I got out of the car to wander the grounds for different angles, I found myself recounting some of the comments Ms. Huxtable had made about the design and about Meier's work. No one was more surprised than I was to find that I really liked and appreciated the building. It didn't move me the way Sacre Coeur did, or the Opera Garnier, but I found something in it to like and began to see why it was so highly acclaimed.

                                 

And to say that I could appreciate the lines/design of buildings like the Hartford Seminary is no small matter. I'm an architectural traditionalist from way back. I love the history and aesthetic of Beaux Arts, Classical Revival, Federal, Victorian Craftsman, and Prairie School structures. I've been a part of as many losing battles (the old Soldier's Memorial Field bathhouse: a WPA built colonial revival structure that looked like a smaller version of Mount Vernon!) as I have winning ones (the old Chateau Theatre, now a Barnes & Noble) in my work with preserving the built past. It's hard and often thankless work because there are always people who want to tear down the old and put up the new, with no thought at all for the historic importance of the building or even the city/site. And not every building is worthy of saving, or even structurally sound enough to save. But there are so many occasions when short sighted city councils bow to the whims and desires of greedy developers with shallow promises.

Then the other day I read a really good piece in the UK Telegraph by Simon Heffer on "Letting Beauty into Our Towns." (read the full piece HERE, you won't be sorry, and read some of the comments on the piece as well, interesting takes on the British aesthetic.) He referenced John Ruskin and his Seven Lamps of Architecture, which made my heart beat a little faster, I must say. (Invoking Ruskin is like waving an Hermes scarf at me or shaking an ice-filled martini mixer in my presence--it gets my attention! Ruskin was complicated and difficult--consider his feud with James MacNeil Whistler--but he is also to my mind the father of the modern preservation movement. No less than Tolstoy called Ruskin "one of the rare men who thinks with his heart." The Seven Lamps was an extended essay that was expanded later into The Stones of Venice and both books are well worth searching out for anyone with architectural leanings.) Ruskin aside, though, Heffer makes some very interesting points about the unfortunate bleak structures that were built under the mantle of modernism. Heffer is specifically pointing to the loss of the Euston Arch as the time when the "floodgates of modernism" were opened wide, which made me wonder what that watershed moment was for the US.

Surely there are bad buildings that have been built in every style, in every era. And clearly art and architecture are very personal visions. What pleases my eye may not interest you. But I think a case could be made for the loss of old Pennsylvania Station in NYC as our Euston Arch moment. The building erected in Penn Station's place is the completely unattractive behemoth of Madison Square Garden. While MSG has brought sporting entertainment to the Big Apple, not many would call it interesting to look at. In the years after MSG was built, so many office buildings of the 60s and 70s were glass and steel skyscrapers with no interest or ornament and surely no soul. Minimalist modern gone bad. Obviously not all bad architecture started with MSG nor did the preservation fights end with Jacqueline Onassis' heroic battle to save Grand Central Terminal. It's an ongoing struggle to keep important structures part of our communities.

Next time you're in a city, any city...look up. See what there is to see, what pleases your eye and why. It's fascinating to see how buildings have evolved right along with our society and values. There's something to be said here about no longer young dogs and new tricks, too...it's surprising what we can begin to appreciate when given the opportunity to learn more about a place or thing.  I'm coming around to some of Modernism's masters (a few...baby steps, you know) and can only hope that they'll have people fighting for their preservation in the coming decades as those architects and styles are indicative of our society--for better or worse.

Here are a few of my favorite buildings (my photos, as well)...I'd love to know what buildings/spots you love--what place do you photograph or sketch from every angle because it fascinates you?


(Grand Central Terminal)


                                             
(Paris Opera--Charles Garnier)



(St. Paul, MN --Landmark Center, St. Paul Cathedral in background)



(Classic white-steepled NE church)




(the stables @ Mayowood, where I first took riding lessons!)

Friday, September 25, 2009

Bert and Ernie









                                 

This is a little memorial to my cat, Jackson, whom I mentioned a few posts ago. He loved my mother's ironing board (warm, toasty from her quilt making tendencies) above most other sleeping spots. Could he BE more comfy?? The other photos I always called the Ernie and Bert series. With Lady, the rescued Golden Retriever as Ernie (because honestly, is there a more earnest face than that of a Golden?? Nope.) and Jackson as Bert. They tolerated each other in the funniest ways...Jack would look with serious disdain at Lady as if to say "really, you don't get that they are totally playing you?" And Lady's look was more "What do you mean? They LOVE me..." It was adorable.

I miss Jackson soooooo much, he was the best little tabby cat ever. And Lady, well let's just say she rules the roost in Rochester, Minnesota, and she does it with grace and aplomb...and the best sad look you've EVER seen.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

"Um, is this thing on??"

So I really had nothing to write about today. It was a big day for the pacers and trotters--that is to say it was Little Brown Jug Day in Ohio. (No, not the big football game between Minnesota and Michigan for a similarly titled piece of small crockery!) The Little Brown Jug is the 2nd jewel in the Pacing or Trotting Triple crown. So all the best trotters and pacers descended on the Delaware County, Ohio, fairgrounds for the races. And these are tough races with multiple heats. Well Said carried the day and all in the pacing community seemed satisfied that a good day--with ample attendance--was had by all.

I thought about writing about the race and doing something about The Great Dan Patch (my personal favorite pacer/trotter of all time) or even about how pacing is different from trotting gait wise, but that topic, I'm sorry to say, didn't inspire me.

And yet, after my slightly wine-influenced manifesto I really felt I should follow up strong. I fear that is not to be, alas.

I'm no less impassioned than I was yesterday, just less verbose. (I know, I can hear those sighs of relief across the Northeast as I type...)

Even Project Runway, another of my television obsessions was disappointing today. For you non-Runway types out there, the winner was, in words I hope Tim Gunn might use, inexplicable. Fellow Minnesotan Christoper did a fantastic piece as did Epperson...I loved both dresses and think they both are much more talented and have a much clearer POV than Nicholas (the winner) did. And the judges in seasons past have always stressed POV...your Point of View as a designer. It should influence your take on everything...even costume and period clothing. I didn't see too much POV in Nicholas' design. Plus, I think he's rather a whinging putz. (Sorry, I know that's not nice!)

The new Chanel bio-pic, Coco Avant Chanel, got a very good review in today's NYT by A.O. Scott. I've been dying to see it might have to be high on the priority list. Shallow, maybe, but true. There's always time for Chanel.

And note to the Big 10 schedulers, how dare you fuck up the Minnesota-Michigan rivalry this season. It's for the aforementioned Little Brown Jug and it's one of the oldest and best contested rivalries in all of collegiate sports. Shame on you Big 10 lackeys!! (That last bit was for my dad!) For the record, and in the interest of full disclosure, I went to college in Chicago so I have nothing more than a sporting interest in either educational institution.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

To Thine Own Self Be True

I was watching Fox's Glee earlier tonight and was reminded of how much we all crave acceptance. (The show, by the way, is okay. However, I think the pregnancy faking wife and the pregnant "abstinent" cheerleader story lines are kind of tired, in my opinion, and there was a point I was kind of waiting/hoping for Kanye West to show up during the many All the Single Ladies dance sequences.) Whether it's applying for jobs, meeting new 'networking contacts' (okay, that phrase alone gives me hives) or just fitting in, we all crave a level of acceptance. Even the people who are right now shaking their head saying "everyone else maybe, but not me..." want some level of acceptance and validation.

I guess what made me think of this was the young gay character on the show...he lied to his father and said he was working out and trying out to be the kicker on the football team. The football lie came from one of his fellow Glee-Clubbers and it was all an effort to impress and garner acceptance from his football loving straight father. At any rate, he turns out to be a real boon to the team and a good kicker as well. It all ends happily, father accepts gay son and son joyfully has pleased his father. (Sorry if it sounds cynical...but I'm summarizing here!)

This not-untried story line started me thinking about the lengths so many of us go to in the name of acceptance. This young man, a true 'glee-clubbing fabulous friend of Dorothy' went as far as trying out for the football team to carry out a ruse and in doing so gain his father's love/acceptance. In our every day lives, we often have to make sacrifices to fit in. Whether it's not mentioning the glaring error a colleague made or not owning your life and it's truths...we all do it. It can be covering your light with the proverbial basket so as not to outshine someone, or just living an untrue existence.

In pressure filled situations it is so easy to succumb to wanting to say or do what is expected. When someone asks why you're not married (this one is my particular favorite) it's so easy to give stock answers. The truth is for me that it's not important to me. It doesn't define the relationship my boyfriend and I have. We love each other and don't feel the need to be married. But given a social situation it's often simpler to comment on commitment issues, timing, or location. The few times I've actually said what I felt and what I wanted I was greeted with blank stares and polite smiles. (Seriously, the comment running through my head was more like: "Really, this is what interests you about me? Not what I'm doing in NY or what book I'm working on? This is your burning curiosity? As if...")

I'm an only child with great need for space and ME time--could that sound more selfish?? But in all honesty I'm not terribly outgoing or gregarious--I'm generally more at home being the scribbling observer. Don't get me wrong--I love being with my boyfriend, but don't need or want him here all the time. Not pretty, perhaps, but the truth. I'm fine with me and while I love our "US" time, we're both just fine doing what we need to do. I'm not sure my parents always understand this, but they are supportive and seem to have accepted that their daughter doesn't do things the conventional way. They'd likely tell you that I never have and while they'd probably prefer it was otherwise, they deal with my eccentricities pretty well, all things considered. Thanks for that, Mom and Dad.

As you've gleaned from my previous posts, I spent a lot of time in a job that I should have left. Had I really been faithful to my ideals and true to myself, I'd have looked after my interests much more closely. I wasn't my own best advocate and I'll always regret that. I look back at so many times where I should have said something or done something but I didn't because I was afraid of how it would look. Honestly, I roll my eyes just thinking about me then!

So what's the right answer? Tell people what they want to hear or announce your truth to the discomfort of others? Both, neither...you decide. I've begun to believe that our own personal truths have to become MORE self-evident. It's not worth it to try to tailor your life or feelings to someone else's agenda. Understand, I'm not saying anyone should just act out every thought or emotion--it's just fine to have unexpressed thoughts and emotions. I'm just saying that whenever possible--meaning whenever we don't damage or impinge upon the truth or life of another--we should be true to who we are, what we need to survive. (And by the way, we all have VERY different needs. What is okay for me won't fill your bill.)

I was a weird kid who took Latin and read the New Yorker and Town & Country...in a smallish town in Minnesota. I fell in love with medieval literature and studied the cathedral architecture of Europe. I'm not "normal." My friends and family love me for/in spite of all this. They know I love my cocktails and my odd little historical facts, and that I'm as happy in an 18th century French Chateau as I am at the beach...with books at both places, of course.

My mini-manifesto, with apologies to Jerry McGuire, is this:
1. I love writing, whether it's about horses, clothes, silly situations I get myself into or whatever else might cross my mind.
2. I need my alone time and am perfectly okay by myself.
3. I love going to the movies and watching some bad TV.
4. I think books are both transformative and transportive--they can change your life.
5. I love French table wine, good cheese and crisp, tart apples.
6. The only champagne I'm at all interested in is made by The Widow Clicquot, in a manner of speaking.
7. I admire Europeans for their slowness in eating and drinking and spending time with friends. I love Americans for their unbridled confidence and sense of possibility.
8. Ideas are among the most necessary and important things we have as a people.
9. Negative energy can kill almost anything.
10. Gin martinis, with extra olives, are one of the great bar-tending achievements of all time.
11. I will always want to know more.
12. There will never be enough time on horseback.
13. A part of me is always in France...my mind, my heart, my soul.
14. A part of me is always in Minnesota with my family and old friends.
15. A part of me cares what people who read this will think...a part of me doesn't.
16. I made it in NYC, for many years...you know how the song goes. I still think I can make it anywhere.
17. No time spent with horses is wasted time.
18. No time spent on the beach is wasted time.
19. No time spent on the NYT Sunday crossword is wasted time.
20. The 10 most important two-letter words: If it is to be, it is up to me.

There's other stuff of course, but hey, you should always leave an audience wanting more.

So be yourself...I'm going to. Want what you want, and ask for it. Need what you need, and ask for it. I'm not good at that part of it, but I'm getting better. I aspire to a wardrobe where I love everything in it. I aspire to be a good, solid rider. I want to work and make a difference, somewhere yet to be determined, I guess. I've had two amazing careers, one in museums and one in publishing and I'm not anywhere near done yet. There are things I still have to share with the world! (Or at least the two or three folks who read my ramblings regularly.)

I'll be wearing my Hermes scarves a bit jauntier this fall, and my lipstick a little darker. My nails are going to be matte in some cases and will likely be navy, gun metal gray or black. It's time for corduroys, suede, and Barbours. *Okay, waxed cotton is seasonless, but you get the idea*

On that note, go forth and enjoy yourself...I plan to have an exceptional autumn!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Prominent Sire El Prado Dead, Summer Squall Euthanized

Requiescat in pacem, El Prado and Summer Squall.

Prominent Sire El Prado Dead | BloodHorse.com
Summer Squall Euthanized / BloodHorse.com

We are responsible, forever, for what we have tamed


Looking back on the pre-unemployment days--those "halcyon/salad days" (ha ha) of gainful employment, I wish I'd had the time to really pursue and really work with the equine charities that I'm now becoming familiar with. I'll admit I was too consumed with the daily grind--consumed to the exclusion of most everything else. Now of course, I have time (possibly too much time) on my hands, but am lacking the income from the aforementioned gainful employment.

So while I'm in no position to adopt and retrain a thoroughbred to ride and hack about on (yes, this is my dream), or give a pile of money to anyone,  I can give a little extra publicity to some of the groups that I've found so inspiring. It is amazing what starts to happen when people work together on projects for which they feel passion and love.

The H.O.R.S.E website (#2, below) used a quote from one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors, Antoine de Saint-Exupery. In his classic, The Little Prince, the fox reminds the Little Prince that he is responsible forever for what he has tamed. We owe horses (and dogs, cats, you name the domesticated creature...) nothing less than love and care throughout their lives. Here are 5 great equine organizations that I think are taking the lead in responsible care and treatment of horses.

1. Work to Ride (www.worktoride.net) 

I remember seeing this group highlighted on HBO's Real Sports a while ago, but was reminded of their good work with inner city kids and horses when CBS Sunday Morning did a piece on the ridiculously handsome Nacho Figueras and mentioned his connection to the group. From their own statement..."Created in 1994 by Lezlie Hiner, Work to Ride is a non-profit, providing disadvantaged urban youth from Philadelphia with constructive activities centered around horsemanship, equine sports, and education. Located in Fairmount Park, the setting provides a unique opportunity to bring 7-to 19-year-old youth in contact with animals and nature. While most participants are trained in several sports, polo has proven to be the perennial favorite of Work to Ride youth. In 1999, the Work to Ride polo team became the first African American polo team in the nation, and in 2005 the team won the Eastern Regional Interscholastic Polo tournament."

So many of these programs involve teaching children responsibility through the care and hard work involved in horses. These children learn everything from mucking out stalls to the finer points of polo and get to experience that special bond that just happens between humans and horses. What could be better that that?

2. H.O.R.S.E of Connecticut (www.horseofct.org) 

This organization has been around since 1982 and is a great friend to horses. Not only do they do a lot specifically with the Premarin mares and foals, they rehab horses for lease to riders and even have horses available for adoption.
Their missions, directly from their website:

ADOPTION:
After our horses have been returned to good physical and mental health, we place them out for adoption. Nothing is more satisfying than seeing that new bond of trust and love between human and horse.


EDUCATION:
We hold regular seminars and make guest lectures to teach people about caring for their horse. Other topics include the Premarin issues, animal cruelty, horse rescue and many other facets of the work we do here.


SPONSORSHIP:
For $50 a month, you can sponsor a horse of your choice. Sponsorship includes four visits a month where you can groom, spend time with and hand-walk the horse. Some horses are able to carry a small child while hand-walked. If you can't come to the farm, you can still sponsor a horse and one of our volunteers will be happy to take "your" horse for a walk and give it love and goodies.

After all the horse has given to humans they deserve nothing less than our care and compassion--and peppermints and carrots, too.

3. Standing In The Gap (www.standinginthegap.info)

I wrote about them a couple of weeks ago, but it's definitely worth another mention. How much more good could be done than to use rehabilitated and rescued horses to help ease the return of wounded American soldiers? Talk about a win/win proposition. I first heard the main forces behind the group, Darla Jeffery and Leslie Morley, on Ted Grevelis' Blog Talk Radio. (You can listen HERE.)And here's their mission statement again, for those of you who may not have read the earlier post:
Standing In The Gap's Mission Statement:
"We will stand in the gap for injured thoroughbred racehorses just moments off the track. We will provide nurturing care, rehabilitation, and training for these fallen athletes. We will guard their dignity with our integrity; teaching them - through love, commitment, and endurance - to become effective mentors for our returning military vets."


4.  Canter USA/Canter NE (www.canterusa.org)

If you're not in the Northeast, there are CANTER groups nationwide that help to facilitate the transitioning of thoroughbreds into good saddle horses--or even into hunter/jumper and dressage horses. Just because their racing careers didn't take off or maybe weren't terribly successful, doesn't mean these horses don't have long and productive lives ahead. You can browse the animals up for adoption and lease and see what other things CANTER is doing.


5.  Old Friends Equine (www.oldfriendsequine.org)

I follow the Twitters of the folks at Old Friends and they do such great work. From the big welcomes they give to their new charges to the tours of the farm that reacquaint racing fans with horses they've watched and loved. As is often the case, out of tragedy comes something very powerful. In 2002 word went round the world that 1986 Kentucky Derby winner Ferdinand had been slaughtered in Japan.

As their mission/goal page relates, "Old Friends began as a retirement and rescue facility for pensioned Thoroughbreds. The discovery {of the Ferdinand tragedy} gave even more impetus to our organization. We went from getting five emails a day to hundreds, noted President and founder Michael Blowen. We knew such a death must never happen again. And so the plan became to bring " at risk" racehorses--those whose racing and breeding careers had come to an end--to Old Friends, provide them with the dignified retirement they deserve, and open the space to the public. By promoting these one-time celebrated horses through a campaign of education and tourism, we realized we could draw attention to all retired Thoroughbreds and all equines in need.


Since then Old Friends has retired two mares (including Bonnie's Poker, the dam of 1997 Derby winner Silver Charm) and five geldings (including Seabiscuit star Popcorn Deelites).


We are the only thoroughbred rescue/retirement facility that accepts stallions, and so we take exceptional pride in our pensioned champions, among them 1988 Eclipse-winning Turf Champion Sunshine Forever and the last great son of Damascus Ogygian.(See Our Horses).


Based in Georgetown, Ky.,  Old Friends has begun receiving visitors. We are hosting two to five tours daily (see Visit Old Friends), and while our guests come to visit a few ex-racehorses, they leave having been touched by the heart of a Thoroughbred hero.

If I'm ever fortunate enough to be in Kentucky, this is a pilgrimage site I'd love to visit. Check out the websites above if for no other reason than to see some great stories and beautiful horses. The difference that all these groups make is large, but there are still many miles to go.

Monday, September 21, 2009

It's All in the Follow Through

I'm not Julia Child. Or Paula Deen, Rachel Ray, Ina Garten, Tyler Florence...heck, I'm not even Brian Boitano. That is to say, when it comes to cooking, I'm a pretty rank amateur. Working in NYC and doing the daily commute from Connecticut meant lots of quick meals and carry-out from shops in the Grand Central Market. Being unemployed, though, means time to cook, or in my case, to learn how to cook.

I went to Catholic school for all 12 years and while we did have a Home Economics kind of course that we went to in a nearby public school, I wasn't overly interested and it was not very thorough. Oddly, I can sew, do various kinds of needlework and make a mean fabric yo-yo, but the cooking bug always passed me by.

Don't misunderstand, I've always appreciated a well made meal...especially the way the Europeans make them. Super fresh high-quality ingredients used in hearty and simple dishes. I had a killer Boeuf Bourguignon in Paris, an amazing Venison Stew in Vienna (with a side of the most verdant pureed spinach I've ever seen!) and a Goat Cheese Salad in Budapest that to this day makes me nostalgic--and hungry.

So obviously I knew what I wanted to be able to make and that I was going to have to sort out the cooking thing. My great friend Barb is not only a wonderful dining companion when I'm home in Minnesota, but she's also the best cook I know. (This isn't a dis to my mother, she's great at many things but she's never been an enthusiastic cook...she has many other wonderful qualities and talents, though!) Barb got me started with a few magazines and some recipes and I was off and running. My first major successes were Wild Rice Soup (like they used to make at Dayton's department stores) and popovers. Chuffed doesn't begin to describe my feeling of victory--especially with the popovers. In my kitchen, I am happy to celebrate small victories as great successes. Fast forward a few months and I'm building my repertoire and tackling more complicated dishes--and yes, I'm planning Julia's Boeuf Bourguignon next time my boyfriend comes down.

Today's recipe was a hearty and rustic Cream of Mushroom Soup--no great shakes, but I was making a recipe from Cook's Country (those amazing folks at America's Test Kitchen) and with most of their dishes they include a good long notes section  and some rather specific methods. After badly bungling a savoury cracker recipe in the early going, I've become much more attentive to how recipes ask you to do certain things. There is always a method to the seeming madness. From how to brown the butter to give the mushrooms and leeks a nutty, rich base to better ways to clean the leeks--they are right on. There are purposes behind everything. (Hello, they are America's Test Kitchen, they test and re-test everything, right?!?!)

And shout outs to the incredible and varied vegetable stands and farmers' markets all over CT and NY. I've had access to the best ingredients and it just proved what I'd figured out in France...fresh ingredients that aren't over-processed yield great food that is good for you.

I'm happy to report that the soup was a smashing success and it's going to make great leftovers for the rest of the week. And I've also mastered (LOL, if you can manage to "overwhelm" a recipe) those savoury crackers and they are an evening favorite when paired with wine and cocktails. If you check in on my Twitter feed you'll likely see both my failures and triumphs featured now and then. Let's hope there are more of the former than the latter. I secretly (or publicly, now I guess) love that I'd rather have my own fresh tomato soup or rhubarb dessert than one made by someone else. Probably this is partly, at least, a symptom of being without work--you take your victories whenever and wherever you can find them. Of course I'll still covet some of the dishes I've had on my travels here and abroad (in addition to most Indian food and the burgers at Shake Shack in NYC), but it makes me happy to know that I'm perfectly capable of cooking what I am interested in eating. It's good to learn and try something new.

The other small off-shoot of this is that it did remind me that as silly as some things may seem, there are reasons for doing them. If you set up the various components of the recipe the right way you are rewarded (usually) with a delicious dish. Things go wrong, popovers don't pop over and some easy recipes are too easy and watered down to be what they purport to be, just like life I guess. Whether it's washing the leeks properly or working hard on a goal, nothing worthwhile is ever easy. We all know that, but as I've become a better cook, I realize how satisfying it is to perfect the fundamentals in order to better my odds as I undertake more difficult challenges. In tennis, golf, discus throwing, cooking and life, it's all about set up and the follow through.

Happy almost Autumn, everyone...(a little Kandinsky--Autumn in Bavaria, 1908--for the new season!)