The Second Bloom

Every spring my mother and I would plan each other's gardens. A Joseph's Coat rosebush - petals altering from pink to orange to yellow - in her front yard. An indigo Butterfly Bush for the hedge next to my driveway. Tulips and Lillies for the borders and the glorious annuals to spill over terracotta pots.

Her absence this year made me lazy. Or perhaps I didn't have any nourishment left for my garden. I didn't buy any new flowering shrubs, didn't split the Tiger Lilly bulbs, didn't prune the Lilacs. I only potted half a dozen Cannas from bulb, hoping they would flame into bloom in the small corners of my garden. Somehow they did, despite my shoddy fertilizing and negligent watering. Were she here they would have feasted on egg shells and decaying banana peels. They and the other critters she tolerated in her yard.

Her death reminds me that healing comes in waves. 7 months later I still have a lot of grief in me. But nature is kinder if you pay attention to her symbolic story. Magic trumps sorrow. Take my century old Cherry Tree, the one Duke lounges atop its crusty branches like a Cheetah at high noon. The rains have stripped away all her leaves. But this week as we enjoy an early Indian summer the tree burst into bloom.

This story I understand.

Houston

Been a long week since I wrote so I'll give a short blow by blow of the week. Wed, the 18th flew to Houston for client meetings and presentations. My colleagues, experts in the field of web globalization comprised of Simon and Melania, both from Ion Global. While our endeavors in Houston were very successful, and while I stayed at a rather posh but decaying Omni, I got absolutely NO sleep. Good news though was I ate rather well. Dinner at a steakhouse (yes, I HAD to eat steak in Texas!) called Flemings. I had the Beef Flemington, encased in a pastry shell and doused in a madiera wine sauce. You bet it was tasty, especially paired with a lush raspberry noted Cabernet that wine-collector Simon selected. Good call. Hit of the evening was the dark chocolate souffle that was devoured not only by the women, but the guys as well.

Thursday after work was followed by drinks at the hotel Derek where my colleagues were staying. Although we were in Houston I distinctly felt as if I were in a club in the Bronx, due to the heavily infiltrated rap guests who were in town for a Big Joe/Little Wayne show. Wait a minute, didn't I see that top at Leslie Joyce? Then off to an art exhibit and hear a loud live band. Ah, the hip Houston art scene. Met a talented jewelry, handbag, furniture designer named Melissa who had the impeccable taste to take us to El Pueblito for dinner. Aye, che wow wa. Crisp fresh lime margaritas. Tangy white fish seviche. A cheesy live band singing every Santana song they could remember. Sangria and the biggest glass of water I've ever seen. All experienced from a lush cabana furnished in wicker and white pleather. Wait, I forgot about the Fish Tacos. Only the best I've tasted in my not so short life. And this was reinforced by a more well traveled person than myself, and also happens to live in Cali, where the Mexican food is unanimously better than in New York.

Final presentation on Friday was a success. Flew back to NY dreading the cold after 70 degree humid Houston temps but was pleasantly surprised by the 50ish weather at Newark. Duke greeted me rapturously as I try to pay the cab driver. And promptly begged for food as he had been on a hunger strike since I left. No worries, he ate 3 bowlfuls that night and slept smack in middle of the bed.

To celebrate Earth Day weekend I stayed in bed and connected with the feather pillows. Sunday I succumbed to the lack of sleep with bad air hangover and developed a cold. A really bad cold. By the way, in case you're an incessant insomniac such as myself, here are a few non medicinal methods to counteract sleeplessness by medical intuitive, Donna Eden. Check them out when you're tired of counting sheep.