Savoring the Fruit

Observing my kids over these past twentysomething years has found me many days scratching my head. These envelope-pushing-willful-behaving-socially-flying creatures that I could not in my wildest imagination conceive when I was a teen several decades ago, have left me positively bewildered on more occasions than I can count on my elbows-fingers-knees-and-toes.


And then, some days, everything about them seems golden.


I enjoyed that wonderfully-blissful refreshing shower of abundance this past week. Our second son, who is a plebe at the United States Naval Academy, tried out and passed the first round of competitive entry into a combat squad he hopes to be a part of, and called us as we were trying to fall asleep to tell us the good news.


The very next day, we got a call from our oldest son telling us the great news that he got accepted for the hoped-for part-time job teaching inner-city middle schoolers English and Math, while simultaneously studying through his senior year of college, working as a lab assistant, preparing for the GRE and applying to grad schools.


One day later, our daughter’s photo showed up in our small town newspaper, showing her digging a volleyball during one of their varsity games; our youngest son’s football plays were highlighted in the same newspaper in an article featuring eighth grade sports.


It was a good week. I beamed ear to ear with joy at their accomplishments and felt my heart take a literal leap.


More than twenty years ago, when I voluntarily derailed out of my corporate career on Wall Street to enter into the whole new world of at-home motherhood with back-to-back pregnancies and a wardrobe of maternity clothes (that became my permanent wardrobe for nearly a decade), I had no idea how the seeds we planted would sprout. Many, many times it seemed as though the seeds were thrown into frozen soil. The terrible two’s never lasted for just the second year of life, but stretched well into the “terrific” three’s and tug-of-war four’s. The “golden years” of five and six (or so I remember our pediatrician calling them that) never seemed particularly easy either. During middle school, I faced many days when I wasn’t quite sure I was going to make it. Head-scratching indeed.


And then somehow, with that mysterious unseen alchemy of sunshine, water and several spikes of high-packed vitamins, those seeds took root and one day, taking us all quite by surprise, sprouted. They grew and they grew. Trunks came up too. And became shockingly hardy. And then the trees bore fruit. Plump, juicy, savory fruit.


We happy parents are not bragging nor boasting. No. We’re simply delighted that our kids’ wings have taken hold and, sturdy and strong, have lifted them to heights not particularly on our horizons and directions never programmed into our mental GPS’s.


These past few weeks have left me facing dizzying news in the capital markets, disequilibrium with these historically unprecedented times and frustration with the irrational and illogical unfoldings on the financial and political scenes. If you are feeling the same way, try to take some time out to look for slivers of light. For moonbeams in parenting. Positive energy in your workspace. Words of encouragement from your colleagues.


I sense an overall edginess in our nation. An uneasiness with things on multiples fronts. My friends report difficulty sleeping. Worrying about their futures.


Looking for progress—large or small—is one of the joys of investing time and talent into other people. Of working with them to use their gifts and talents for the betterment of the world.


As you move forward these next few weeks, take a deep breath. Or two. And try to take time to savor the fruit. Juicy fruit is your sweet reward.


Blessings on your week,


Carolina

Surprised by Joy…in Vermont

You only have a few weeks—or days—left to find joie in fall’s foliage. While you might be witnessing it in your own neighborhood, or perhaps have even driven somewhere close to home to see it in all of its glory, I can practically guarantee that you will not fully experience it unless you visit Vermont,


I traveled there a couple weekends ago when I took my daughter college-shopping throughout New England. As if the trees on the drive through Connecticut and Massachusetts weren’t breathtakingly gorgeous enough, with their brilliant golds and burnished reds, they left me practically gasping for air once we crossed the line into Vermont.


I can’t say that I’ve ever really traveled much throughout Vermont. A couple of ski trips there in the dead of winter were wonderful in their ski-resort campyness and exhilaratingly crisp still air (not to mention competitive downhill runs.) But fall in Vermont? Oh my goodness……


Tourists come from across the country and indeed, around the world, to visit Vermont in the fall. I’ve read about this for years of course. Always wanted to see if it’s what it’s cracked up to be.


It is. Trust me. Go see for yourself. Here’s what we did:


Burlington. We visited UVM, or Universitas Virdis Montis, the University of the Green Mountains. Set against the backdrop of Lake Champlain, between the Adirondack and Green Mountains, it is, without a doubt, one of the prettiest university towns in the country. Walk Church Street and take a peek inside the funky clothing stores, high end April Cornell, the candy shop (try the homemade dark chocolate bark studded with almonds!) and the chock-full-of-great-finds women’s consignment store. I picked up a Ralph Lauren cabled cotton sweater in the United States Naval Academy yellow for fall football game good cheer. It was a veritable steal! Eat outside at Leunig’s Bistro (115 Church Street). Authentic French bistro with inspiring food and charming décor. We had a perfect dining experience during our one night in Burlington, and my daughter and I created a lifelong memory there. A terrific escape.


Middlebury. Home to nationally-ranked liberal arts Middlebury College, this tiny town is as quaint as they come, being settled right after the end of the Revolutionary War. Downtown streets are lined with expensive boutiques and coffee shops, which are all within a short walking distance to the fabulous Middlebury Inn. If you get the opportunity to travel to Vermont, please call well ahead for a reservation, and try to stay at the Inn. Otherwise, you’ll be forced to stay at either a Bed & Breakfast (of which there are plenty) or drive, as we did, in the middle of the night in search of the last remaining room within a one-hundred mile radius of the town.


Killington. We wound up spending the night at Summit Lodge here, a ski lodge the sight of which was the prettiest one for sore eyes we could recall in recent memory. Having reserved a room at a B & B twenty minutes outside of Middlebury College, only to arrive to an empty house in the middle of nowhere (that might be where that Middlebury name thing comes from) with no locks on the room doors, no locks on the front door and not one person or dog in sight (leaving my sixteen-year-old daughter who had seen far too many horror movies in her short little life scared out of her mind at the thought of spending the night there). Our night at the lodge in Killington worked out just fine. Dated but charming in its campy simplicity and full of roaming Bernese Mountain dogs, the beds are warm, the food is hot and homemade and its in a well-situated spot in the green state.


Woodstock. Driving from Killington towards Boston, to continue our college tour schedule, we passed, quite unexpectedly, through Woodstock. My daughter had just fallen asleep, but had it been otherwise, I would have jabbed her ribs with my elbow and made her get up and walk around the town with me. It was as good as Vermont gets. The Woodstock Inn is picture perfect with white picket fence and symmetrical Colonial architecture. If I had been better prepared, I would have reserved a room here and spent the entire weekend strolling through this town. My jaw stayed open as I wove through its few narrow streets. Perfect shops and perfect homes line perfect streets. If most of Vermont strikes you as too “Vermonty,” then this town is for you. Plan a visit here for next year; I’ll be booking my room this week for ’09. It was crawling with tourists by 9:30 on Sunday morning before anything even opened.


Quechee. The home of Simon Pearce Glassware in the Historic Mill. A destination of its own. Travel to Vermont just to visit the restaurant and shop. Watch the potter at his wheel, take videos by the water wheel and dine in the renowned restaurant. A short drive from Woodstock and one which you will cherish for years to come! Simon’s hand blown glassware has been on my radar for more than twenty years and I am still kicking myself that I did not start collecting it back then when I had the chance to buy it wholesale. I can’t touch it now (except the the “seconds” pile.) Fabulous wedding registry and corporate gift center too.


If October is one of your favorite months, as it is mine, enjoy the way the earth laughs out loud during its next few remaining days ahead. And if you are fortunate enough to be able to afford the time away, make it an escape to Vermont. It is one of creation’s true masterpieces.


Until next week, all blessings,


Carolina