Carol Scudder

Open To Stuff....

What I did yesterday ...

Yesterday I slept too late. Late for me anyway. I woke up initially at 6:30am, but that was too early, considering that I'd gone to bed after 12:30am the night before. I need at least seven hours of sleep - maybe seven and a half - though seven is fine, really. But - it was kind of hard for me to go back to sleep. I finally did, but then I didn't wake up until 8:45am. I hate that. I have friends who consider 8:45am early though - and a couple of friends who regularly get up at 5:30am (and not just because they have kids - they just LIKE it) - so - I guess it's all relative really. I, personally, like to get up around 7:30am. That is my ideal.
Then I had tea - watched NY1 (favorite news channel) and ate one of my favorite breakfasts: 1/4 of an avocado, mashed with a little salt and lemon juice then spread on a piece of toasted Ezekiel bread , with 1/2 ounce of goat cheese, an over-medium egg, 2 ounces of smoked salmon and a small salad of arugula and grape tomatoes with olive oil, sea salt and lemon juice.
Somewhere in there I came up with this idea to write "What I did yesterday..." - so I did that, yesterday, for the first time. (this being the second time - for those following along at home)
Then I went to work.
A wedding - Indian Muslim - in a gorgeous party space in Brooklyn that used to be an old bank. Back when people had money and banks looked like a cross between a palace and a very large, well appointed mausoleum. Not like now - when a new bank is indistinguishable from any other business: Charles Schwab, Edible Arrangements, Super Cuts ... only the presence of fruit on skewers, ribbons and baskets or barber chairs and scissors make one discernible from the other. Old banks are uplifting. New banks are depressing. No one will ever have a wedding in a new bank.

I was in the kitchen at this particular wedding, so didn't get to see much of it. The people I saw on my way downstairs to the bathroom were strikingly beautiful, as a group, and they seemed to be having a good time. The music was unusual, a live string quartet playing hits from the 60's through 90's, in Muzak fashion, like what they played in the dentist office when I was a kid. "Benny and the Jets" for viola and violin. And this wedding - being Muslim, had no alcohol. NO ALCOHOL. I was released before it ended, but I'm thinking it didn't run late.
I've worked other weddings like that, with no alcohol. One in particular I remember, where I was on the floor, not in the kitchen.  A white couple, very Christian, from the Midwest. They'd moved here for work. She wasn't "un-pretty" - just very plain. She wore no make-up - a very simple, unadorned, long white dress and had her hair up in a "banana clip", as if she were just running out to the store for a quart of milk, rather than about the get married.
He, on the other hand, wore a Prince Valiant hair-cut - very precise, a simple, light colored suit with slightly larger than usual lapels, a tie I can't remember, eye-liner, mascara and blush.
They toasted with Twizzlers which were placed in glasses on all the tables. It wasn't yesterday, but I remember it like it was.
Back to yesterday. I came home on the G train, operating with delays due to track work (so it took an hour) had a snack and a glass of white burgundy, watched a little TV and was then saddened to learn, via Facebook, of the death of Jean Stapleton. I loved her.