While I live in a home that has plenty of room for a table and separate chairs for informal dining, I am still very attracted to banquette seating. The economy of space may be the wow factor for me.

Mark Zeff Architecture and Design
Mark Zeff Architecture and Design



Quilted Nylon for Travel


There is an old world, steamer trunk luxury about leather luggage–visions of monograms and uniformed porters or a private jet waiting on the tarmac. Since I don’t live in that world, I like nylon’s light weight qualities for travel. Brighton, MZ Wallace and Athleta are making excellent quilted nylon pieces. The animal print Brighton tote (top pic) saved me a Jet Blue fee of $150 when my luggage was overweight. I threw FOUR pairs of shoes in that thing and it wasn’t even a challenge to its abilities.

What I am watching, reading, listening



Watching. Netflix.


I was so bummed when I finished this two seasons so far, show, on Netflix. Hands down my favorite in a long time. I love a show that has me entertained with witty and well written dialogue. I love a show that has me laughing and crying within minutes. (yes, I DO watch This Is Us and I laugh and cry watching that too, but everyone loves that show so I am not using it as part of this list.) Atypical features as its main character, Sam, an 18 year old on the spectrum (Kier Gilchrist) who’s burgeoning need for independence is not without many bumps both deep and shallow for him as well as his family who, is dealing with their own stuff. The most important reason I love this show is Jennifer Jason Leigh’s portrayal of the mom, Elsa.  (I just wish JJL didn’t mess up that face with all those fillers.) Elsa is so earnest, flawed and dear.  The actress who plays the daughter Casey, (Brigette Lundy Paine) is excellent . The writing is good. I hope there is a season three.

Reading. Non Fiction.

Wherever You Go, There You Are

Jon Kabat-Zinn’s mindfulness book written in 1994 is more timely now than ever. When people I know have repeated drama and persistent complaints about how life will be better when….,  I note how they forget that they take themselves into that next place and time. This book isn’t quite that, but it reminds you that all we have is now. Listening to your own self and being present in the moment is perhaps the best investment in your life you will ever make. What a simple concept so difficult to accomplish. Yes, meditation is a practice. This book isn’t all woo woo or rigid but clear and welcoming to the world of mindfulness.

Listening. Podcasts.

The New Yorker, The Writer’s Voice

It’s wonderful listening to a writer read their new fiction to me while I clean the kitchen, iron or do laundry. This podcast elevates my task into an opportunity to be transported.

Clear and Vivid with Alan Alda

While I am new to this podcast I can’t believe that Alan Alda is still such a relevant and talented human being (who didn’t watch M*A*S*H growing up in the 70’s and 80’s?) His conversations with  interesting people from all sorts of industries and walks of life teach us about connection and communication. No matter who the guest is, Alda brings out what is compelling and noteworthy.  I want to be that vibrant and interested when I am 82, no wait, forget that. That’s who I want to be now.




Flea Market Musings

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I had a wonderful time combing through trash and treasures last weekend at a few of New York City’s flea markets. Some of the booths were selling brand new, or never been worn linens, shoes or handbags. And they were lovely. But not what I want to see when I am in a dirty parking lot with sweat dripping down my back and harboring wishes of wearing a hazmat suit in such close proximity to some questionable merchandise. I want to see stuff I can’t see in Bergdorf’s circa 2018. I want to see items that are tacky, beautiful, cast away and foreign, and also yet strangely familiar.

One gentleman’s booth housed what may be the finest collection of household sterling silver pieces this side of the pond. Gleaming fish forks, apothecary jars with highly polished lids and water pitchers with bone handles elevated that nasty booth into what I imagine could be a well turned out estate. I was enchanted. And very inspired to polish my own silver collection–very soon.

There were trays of costume jewelry that broke my heart. Just imagining the pride once felt by the women who collected them. And here they were on West 25th Street languishing with no one to adorn.

Truth be told, I saw too many items I actually own from my own grandmothers hand me downs. Too many times I thought to myself, yikes, I have those candle sticks, I have that dish, I have that fake Hermes belt buckle (yeah, yeah). And items called to me from the past. That the very son I used to feed with a Barney spoon just like the one peeking up from a cutlery pile, had met me for breakfast just hours earlier, now a completely independent adult.

That’s the kind of flea market experience I want. To be transported by the crap from other lives, including my own other lives, to feel things I may never get to feel again or make sure I spend time making sure I do.