I thought of Aunt Lillian yesterday. I was picking wild grape leaves to stuff and I remembered the first time I had them at her house and how she shared her recipe with me. This is the only time of the year when you can use the wild grapes leaves, in a few days they will be too big and too rough to eat. But right now they are perfect. You pick the ones with leaves that are divided into threes, make a filling of rice, fresh mint, scallions, spices and an egg and cook them for a few minutes in chicken broth. Easy, good for you and delicious. I used to have the kids help me pick the leaves. Paul was a worry wart and would say, "Don't touch that - it's poison ivy." No, its not, I would tell him, continuing to pick the leaves. "Leaves of three, let it be," he advised. I would show him how these leaves were growing on the grape vines, therefore they were safe. But he never really believed me. It was this time of the year too when we would go "steal" rhubarb from our neighbor's yard. Actually, Bob Barrett had told me to take all I wanted, they didn't use it. But I liked the story of Rapunzel, where she asks her husband to steal the rhubarb, he gets caught, and the witch gets their baby. Anyway, we would sneak into the Barrett's yard, I would pull out a knife and start cutting the rhubarb, showing the kids how you never, never even take the leaves, they are too poisonous, and I would discard them in to the weeds. "How can the leaves be poison and the stems are ok to eat?" questioned Paul, a look of disbelief on his face. That's just the way the plant is, I would answer and take home the rhubarb to make Strawberry Rhubarb pie. The kids never liked that either, probably thought I was trying to poison them, but in later years it has become the favorite of all my pies to them. Another memory came to me today, as I picked the Lily of the Valley (they are early this year). My grandmother carried that flower as a bride on Memorial Day and there is still the wedding picture of her and Poppy, and the dried flowers are part of the frame. Lilies of the Valley are tricky to pick, you don't pick them, or cut them, you tug on them gently until they are released from the pip. Poppy showed me how to do this when I was a kid. There was a patch of them in their yard, and their scent still is one of my favorite smells. So, spring is here, Aunt Lillian's tradition continues, Poppy's picking lesson is remembered and I need somebody to go with me to steal rhubarb.

Last week we were at a party. It was unusually warm for April, and we were all sitting outside, except for Solomon and Zack, in the house playing with their games. Then from inside someone was playing the piano, a haunting Eastern melody, like a harem dancer would be swaying to. "Who's playing the piano?" I asked, looking around the guests to see who was missing. "It's Jer - Jer is playing the piano." Now I never knew he could play the piano. He's always played a guitar, I think Maria started him on lessons as an early teen and he is usually never seen without the instrument. Hearing Jer play the piano made me recall conversations Ria and I had had many times. Jer was NOT her son, the babies had been mixed up, and she had Todd Rundgren's son. Yes, back in 1980 when Maria had Jer there was one other baby in the Rhinebeck nursery. Maria and I were standing outside the nursery window, looking at Jer when this young, thin woman, wearing a shortie nightgown and holding a radio to her ear, joined us, dancing and moving to the music in her ear. "Look at her, Ma", Ria moaned. "She just gave birth and she looks like she's at a rock concert. Nobody would know she just pushed out a kid, not like me". Maria could have been on a poster for Post Partum Support. Back in her room, Maria explained to me that that was Todd Rundgren's girlfriend. Todd Rundgren of "Hello, It's Me". Oh yeah, I always liked that song. Years went by and I had forgotten Maria's partner in the Maternity Ward. Then when Jer was about 3 and he was dancing crazy to music, Maria brought it up. "Ma, I think I got the wrong baby, I think I got Todd's baby." This was repeated many times over the years, usually when she was having some problems with Jer. "He's going back to his father and that Playboy girlfriend of his." Anyway, after listening to Jer playing the piano, I thought I would look up what had happened to Todd's son who had been born at the same time as Jer. His name is Rex and he is playing baseball for the Dodgers Team A in Vegas. Now, that's a surprise. Last year Regina played softball and she was pretty good at it...and then I read that her real brother Rex is playing ball. Maria you might have been right.

Two completely unrelated things made me smile today. We have guests in the Bird's Nest from Holland and as I tidied the bathroom, I noticed a shaving brush on the shelf in the shower. A shaving brush, like the one my father had. I remember watching my father shave, it was a morning ritual. He would lather the brush up , working the suds, until he was satisfied with the quantity and quality of the suds. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror he would apply the suds to his cheeks, chin and under neck and then with long deliberate strokes of the razor, remove the suds and the beard, finishing it off by rubbing his hands together with Old Spice, getting just the right amount on his palms, then gently slapping his cheeks with the Aftershave. Just seeing that brush on the shelf brought all those memories back, almost the smell of that Old Spice. The second time was reading today's New York Times and reading an article about a remake of Gray Gardens. Big Edie and Little Edie. That's what Maria and I were named, first by Sabra's husband Tony. Ria and I were sharing that awful last cottage we shared together and Tony and Sabra had the cottage on the hill above us. He would stop by on his way to get the paper, see me having my coffee, Ria with her tea, Ria in her bathrobe, me wearing my Miller Lite pajama pants and Miller Lite shirt. He must have remembered watching Gray Gardens (both Sabra and Maria had loved that documentary) and he thought our outfits worthy of the names of Big Edie and Little Edie. Drew Barrymore is playing Little Edie and Jessica Lange is playing my role. I once had the honor of riding in the truck that Jessica Lange had ridden in the movie "Tootsie". The movie was filmed in Hurley and I worked at IBM with an older gentlemen who drove a beat up truck, that the film company had asked to use in the filming. I can't remember the IBMer's name now, but I recall his face. He took me for lunch at the Bowery Dugout and I had the honor of sitting in the same seat as Jessica. That makes me smile too. Then at the Bowery Dugout I would order soft shell crabs, my favorite - and Adam's is starting to carry them. Well, there you go, from shaving brush, to Big Edie, to Jessica, to soft shell crabs. It's Easter Saturday, the day last year that Maria was buried. This cold, dreary day is perfect for the thoughts that pop into your head. Rest in Peace Little Edie. Love, Big Edie

Tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day. I have been thinking today of all the good St. Patty's Days I've had. I remember one just before the Iraq War started. Maria, Patty, Margaret and I were sitting with several other people on Bailey's porch - a warm night. The Mayor was there and like a typical politician, was going from table to table. At our table we exchanged Irish jokes and then I said "Let's get Tivoli declared a Peace City" and he moaned and said, "Oh, no Linda, don't start that". Then a year later we celebrated at the Black Swan, sitting around a table in a crowded room, drinking Guiness, Maria, Patty, Me and others I can't remember now. But my favorite St. Patty's Day memory goes back probably 28 years ago when Maria had Jer as a baby and was living with Kevin's mother. I had asked her if she wanted to go to Bailey's with me for St. Patty's Day and she jumped on it, asked Mary to watch Jer for the night --she planned on spending the night at my house. I picked her up after work and we were soon on our way to Bailey's. Now only once a year did they open the back room making Bailey's double in size. The juke box was playing Irish music (nothing special for the occasion, it ONLY had Irish music on it) probably Danny Boy and we ordered beers and tried to find an empty seat. The only seats were at a table filled with young guys - I especially remember Benjie Sosta as being there. He had a Tivoli kid reputation and several years later died in either a car or motorcycle accident. We sat down, Ria grinning broadly at probably her first night out after having the baby and took a sip of her beer. Now, Maria could never drink. A half a glass of beer and she would be silly, so I wondered how this would go. Benjie was making us laugh, calling to Lillian the beer maid, "Take the hill, Lill" because she was wearing a green hat that looked like an army helmet. He leaned in close to me and asked in a low voice"Do you woof?" Ria gasped, choking on her beer. I looked at him and said, "I don't think so." Maria explained that to woof you have to drink the whole glass down at one time. NO, NO, I don't woof. But that did put us all in the right mood. Erin Go Braugh flags were passed around, more green hats, green plastic leis, and the music got louder and louder. A good time was held by all. The next morning I woke up Maria to take her back to Mary's house. She said "I'm not even going to get dressed. I'll give Mary a good show." So I drove her home and she got out of the car, wearing her bath robe, a green hat perched on her head, several leis and waving a green flag. I thought I saw the curtains move as she yelled out to me from the front steps..."Happy St. Patrick's Day Ma". It is my best memory of the day. I bet she and Benjie and Patty are getting ready to woof tomorrow. Happy St. Patrick's Day and God Bless us all.

Boy, it has been a while - I think I was stuck in February doldrums. Now it is March. Timmy has a riddle "What's the only date that is a command?" Answer: March forth. That's what the cold does to you, strange chemical changes to the brain. My mother told me that my first sentence was "GaGa, Nana, brrrrrr" which translated to Grandma, I'm cold. 65 years later, I'm still stuck in the I'm cold mode. Clothes don't seem to make a difference- two, three shirts, two pairs of socks, still cold. When I was little, still living in my Grandmother's house, Barbara and I slept in an attic bedroom, without heat. I remember my mother ironing the sheets before we hopped under the covers. GaGa, Nana, brrrrr. I wasn't kidding. School was cancelled today because of the snow storm. Rarely, do I remember school closing, and if it was closed we were advised by the firehorn going off in three threes, the signal for school closing. Today you look on the internet or tv. Oh, the television weather people love a storm. You would think it was the end of the world coming, their pointing out the approaching low, the expected number of inches, and oh, yes the wind chill which is always near zero in our area. Today is my mother Bucky's birthday. I can remember a warm March 2, taking a walk with the kids down Clay Hill Road in the dark of night, hearing the peepers, feeling Spring, feeling the joy of the damp air with that earthy smell that signals Spring. Last year was cold too. Laura was married on Leap Year Day, a cold day, and Maria drove us to Catskill for the ceremony. It was a wonderful time, an alligator cake made by Maria, with a bride and groom alligator, the bride wearing a veil. We all had good food, laughs at Liz's son Zander eating everything he could get his hands on, and then Laura and Michael left to catch a train before noon to the city and on to Florida. On the way home in the car, Maria looked excited and said, "I got an idea. Let's go wait at the Tivoli Railroad tracks and wave when their train goes by"....she was so pleased with the idea, but we all poopooed it, too tired, why would they look out the window, etc. , etc. So we talked her out of it. But that memory is sticking in my head, why didn't we just go along with her, it would have been fun just to see the train go by anyway, so we could tell people what a crazy thing we did. But we didn't. Yesterday I went to the railroad tracks, driven by that memory. "Maybe I will see an eagle, or even wave to some newly weds going by in a train", but no eagle, no train went by and I drove home. Cold, just cold. Gaga Nana brrrrr.

A few more thoughts on suffering. As my sisters' comments indicate, Catholics are taught about suffering too, but for them, it is a way to get into Heaven and enjoy eternal life. Of course if Adam and Eve never ate the fruit, there would be no suffering to begin with...God wouldn't have condemmed them and the rest of us to pain, work, labor and toil and all those good things. Anyway, Aunt Lillian's prayerbook says that "out of suffering comes all good" and "suffering was the lot of all saints". (Was it St. Francis who wore a horse hair shirt next to his skin as a penance? ) "Suffering has a refining influence upon our character and tends to free us from selfish motives and purifies our aspirations". "Every sorrow, every trial can be turned into a blessing". Well, I don't think Buddha would say that - he said "Suffering is an illusion." But as Catholics that is how we are taught. "Thanks be to God, my rheumatism is much worse today!" Just another way to look at it. Now Maria thought all our trials, all our suffering and pains in this life were brought on by something we did in another life. Atonement for unknown sins. She often would call me, saying dramatically, "Ma, I don't know what I did in another life, but it must have been terrible." I remember one time she called, after an especially bad day with the kids, motor bureau, bill collectors, etc, and said, "Ma, I think I finally figured out what I did in another life....I was Hitler." We laughed and after that, whenever things were really bad, she would repeat that she must have been Hitler, that was the only explanation for her sufferings. Well, enough on suffering. It's snowing, cold and frigid - the house only 60 degrees. Makes one not mind putting on the horse hair shirt.

January has been hard on the Learning Institute's classes at Bard. I wanted to take Buddha's Four Noble Truths, but the classes kept being canceled, rescheduled, so I ended up only attending two...I guess I only will find out about the first noble truth, something I already suspected. Our instructor presented us to Buddha in a strong Italian accent. He had a nervous little habit of giggling at what seemed the most inappropriate times, which surprised me but made me smile more than once. The 1st great noble truth to get back to it, is "suffering" and we suffer said Buddha, because we get too attached to life and that is why we suffer. "Greatest pleasure gives you greatest pain" (giggle). I remember Aunt Lillian telling Maria, "I never knew the pleasure of having children," here she looked knowingly, "but I never had the pain that comes with raising a family." Aunt Lillian must have known Buddha. Nietzsche was quoted by the professor more than once...my favorite, the familiar, "that what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger" (giggle). I have thought of that quote many times in the last months. But to get back to suffering, we suffer because of our physical wants, our mental wants, our attachments (greed) and our spiritual suffering, our hunger for eternity (giggle). He continued that our needs have dominated our lives, we need more and more...actually, we really need less and less. Here the professor referred to today's economy, our living beyond our means, and said we may learn the hard way to need less and less (giggle). Made me think of St. Francis and even Cat Stevens in his song "Moonshadow" and if I ever lose my eyes, if my colors all run dry, I won't have to see anymore, or if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth both north and south, I won't have to talk anymore. Cat Stevens, like Aunt Lillian must have known Buddha. So here I am stuck in the house, the yard an ice skating rink, not able to find out the other noble truths, or how to get out of suffering, other than death (my giggle). Oh, well that what doesn't kill us....we're getting stronger every day in this January of below zero weather, snow, ice and cancelled classes.