"Heavenly Delights!"

As I was walking by the candy store window, the various bins of brightly colored confections called out to me.  Temptation won and I soon found myself pushing through the clear glass door with the name Heavenly Delights artfully inscribed in white. 

I wasn’t hungry, and I wasn’t experiencing the need for a sugar fix.  No, my susceptibility to the mix of candy pumpkins with green stem, crazy corn, miniature corn, black licorice jellybeans, and other delights didn’t stem from gastric juices flowing.  My pull into the diminutive shop on 3rd Avenue in New York City, between 35th & 36th, stemmed purely from the retro recollections of Halloween festivity from my youth.  In those days of innocence, neither the calorie content nor nutritional value, or lack therein, dictated my adeptness at popping pumpkins one after the other into my mouth.

Life is different now from those carefree days.  With my own children grown and residing out of state, Halloween can come and go without any of the typical fanfare at my house of shopping for costumes, rushing to Halloween parades at the local mall, or creating ghoulish getups to wear at work.  No, Halloween festivity has never been my thing.  I don’t liked masks of any kind and haven’t yet out grown my skepticism of those scary, obnoxious, and ugly masks that seem to delight and thrill Halloween revelers.    

Truth be told that while Ishy away from the world of make-believe horror, blood dripping Dracula’s, and haunted houses surrounded by grave yards and ghosts, the warmer hues of autumn are the aspects of October that spark my endorphins flowing.  Those aspects include gobbling up the fall mix of plump soft chewy pumpkins and crazy corn candy.  For me, it’s the economically priced bag of candy that you can buy at the local A& P, that delights and thrills me. 

So, why did I spend $12.78 on my bag of “Heavenly Delight!”?  Only a lover of crisp falls days under the gray/bue of a late October sky would fully understand.  Not only do the warm hues of autumn spark endorphins, they also spark the intrinsic turn toward family and home as longer days bring us inside to warm by the fire.

As a child, I remember the fun that my brother and me had carving pumpkins and pulling out the slimy seeds entangled inside.  Once we felt we had given Mr. Pumpkin a perfect Halloween face, we stood back and admired our work. 

Each year, as an adult, I can’t wait to begin my tradition of tucking away summer and bringing out my fall decorations the week after Labor Day weekend.  My next step in setting autumn ablaze is lighting my cinnamonspice candle.  And, the final phase of my tradition is waiting for that perfect autumn day of dipping temperatures, and baking an old-fashioned apple pie like mother used todo, that fills my apartment with the aroma of home.   

            I spent $12.78 on a bag of Heavenly Delights! because that moment of indulgence reminded me of a lifetime of investment.  The memories I hold and cherish for making my apartment inviting to my friends and family, enriches my spirit.  And, to recapture a bit of those care free days. 

After getting home with my mix of Halloween candy, I tore off the Heavenly Delights! sticker that held the bag closed and started popping pumpkins in my mouth.  I have to admit that after eating a few, plump pumpkins and devouring a handful of crazy corn, I started to feel like a lump of sugar.  This was followed by the guilt of gluttonous consumption.  I can’t possibly eat all this!  What am I going to do with the rest?

A phrase came to mind that it’s more blessed to give than to receive, and I thought of two friends I was seeing over the next few days.  Suddenly, I had my answer. 

Remembering I still had two miniature Chinese take out containers left over from Christmas last year, I divided the remaining confections and filled the two containers.  Next, I curled some ribbon with the blade of a pair of scissors and placed them on top of each container.  This was helping to replace my self-incrimination with a renewed sense of warmth. 

Meeting one friend for breakfast at the Ridge Diner, and meeting another friend at DePiero’s for tea would surely bring me my own heavenly delight.

 

 

City Girl for a Day

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            The awaited weekend arrived.

            On Friday morning, I picked up my long time friend, Mary Jane, and her twenty -something year-old daughter, Mary, at Newark International Airport, who had just arrived from Buffalo.  Former residents of Bergen County, they had come for the weekend and our plan was to spend Saturday in New York City and specifically, journey through Central Park.  After fetching their luggage and making our way out of the airport maize, we hit the Parkway North back to the tree lined, winding roads, and rich heritage of our Pascack Valley. 

We hadn’t seen each other in five years and began our celebration of friendship and catching up over a leisure lunch at The Cheesecake Factory at the Palisades Center.

            Later, Mary’s friend, Francesca, also in her twenties and with her toddler son, Aidan, picked up Mary to spend the night with them, and then Mary Jane and I met mutual friends for dinner at a favored family pub, Peppercorns. 

Saturday arrived amid much excitement and with the anticipation of our transportation mode; a train trip into the city.  It sounded so cosmopolitan as I usually either drove in or took the bus from the Montvale Park & Ride and used the senior discount ticket that I barely qualify for.  And now, with Aidan with daddy for our girls day out, and with the promise of a fun day and the bright sun at our backs, we headed to the Ramsey train station with a transfer in Secaucus, for our final destination; Penn Station.

After maneuvering the maze madness of the station, we made our way out to the daylight of Eighth Avenue and a few blocks up trod over to Broadway and to the place with the fastest pulse on the planet; Times Square. 

As you would imagine, we first needed to revive ourselves in preparation for our trek up to Central Park so rather than trying to squeeze into TGIF’s or other trendy eatery along the Great White Way, we opted for the quieter and less crowded Times Square restaurant, Rosie O’ Grady’s, a few doors down and just off Broadway on 46th. 

Once we finished our repast and were refreshed, we made our way over to 5th Avenue and became part of the human mass heading toward Midtown East.

The lure of glitz and glamour and reverence grabbed at our senses and we were pulled into St. Patrick’s, Saks Fifth Avenue, Tiffany’s and Bergdorf Goodman.  Walking past the The Plaza in all its newly renovated glory, we came upon a long line of folks trailing after a guide and heading toward a bus.  I was curious and asked a passerby where they were all going.  The answer that was exubertently shot back at me was, “Sex and the City, the movie”.  Ah, yes!  If we looked closely, I chimed to our party; we might catch a glimpse of Mr. Big or Sarah.   But, not today, for we were on a mission and our next stop was finding Strawberry Fields, the Ladies Pavilion, and The Boathouse Cafe.

On the way to the entrance to Central Park by The Pond, we passed a group of break-dancers surrounded by a thick crowd and then a figure on stilts with green face paint waving a flag while portraying the Statue of Liberty.  I don’t know which was aching more; my feet from walking or my neck from turning this way and that for fear I’d miss some quintessential New York City experience.

We walked up a hill, then down a hill, we stepped over rocky paths, and when we came to a fairly narrow and steep stairwell my friend turned back reaching for my hand to steady me in descending the steps.

Even the twenty-something year-olds were now getting tired, but we bravely continued.  We were city girls for a day, and we weren’t going to allow sore feet or anything else to halt our pilgrimage.  Well, nothing that is except my bad heart telling my body that I’d reached my max for the day. 

Mary Jane, aware of my prostration, called for a colloquy at which time it was decided she and I would hail a bike buggy driver and we’d meet the girls at Strawberry Fields.  Soon, we were climbing into our carriage and being whisked past the walkers and bicyclists up to 72nd and Central Park West, the entrance to Strawberry Fields, where we both collapsed on the bench among the crowd while waiting for our youthful companions to arrive.

We snapped photos of the Imagine mosaic in honor of John Lennon and then moseyed our way on down the path toward the Ladies Pavilion.  The only other time I’d seen the pavilion was when I visited The Gates, by Christo and Jeanne –Claude, on a bitterly cold winter day in February 2005.  This time, boaters were enjoying an autumn afternoon against the backdrop of a magnificent New York City skyline.

 From the Ladies Pavilion, we wound our way through the woods and reached our final destination The Boathouse Café on Park Drive North.  We now had completed our pilgrimage and sat a spell to ponder our passage. 

Eventually, we hailed a taxi only to endure the most hurried and harried taxicab ride of my lifetime.  The driver was darting between cars and busses at a high speed all the way down Park Ave, which left me even more breathless than traipsing through Central Park! 

Once we boarded the return train, we all literally flopped in our seats.  I knew then that, in spite of the wonderful day and renewing of friendship, I could never be more than a city girl for a day. 

Until next time…Top Blonde taking the day.