I have a dream that every city had fruit and vegetable carts on every corner. Well, every other corner would do. Right now, I’m living in it.
As I rush from appointment to appointment in New York, carts of fruits and vegetables nourish me— basket of blueberries sold for $2 and a pear for 25 cents. Yesterday was the first time in a long while that I ate my seven servings of fruits and vegetable without strategic planning.
By having these purveyors out on the street where traffic is flowing makes it easy to associate whole foods with satisfying the hunger that is occurring. And those hunger pangs aren’t the crazy, ravenous kind either since noshing on these natural fibrous fillers has kept my blood sugar steady.
Imagine a world where each city had the same availability of fruits and vegetables. My hope that it would mean a healthier population.
No Baby A. No M. No Kitties. No diapers. No tugging.
It’s just me on the East Coast. For five days I get to step out of my mommy role and back into my professional one. Today is day one and I already I feel like the pre-baby me.
It isn’t that I have changed (too much), but my circumstances have. Because my days are filled with child-caring and working, I’m in survival mode. The business-minded, go-getter in me gets muted, which has made me feel lost. Strange.
It only took me one day of talking with editors and walking through New York to make the business brain reemerge. Everyone needs some time alone to put things in perspective, whether it is a vacation, a business trip or a mixture of both.
So today begins five days of girl time. Sure, I’ll miss sharing my adventures; I know that when I return, I’ll be a better wife, mother…me.
First of all, I realize that I live in Southern California where the temperature never gets below a balmy 40 degrees, depending on where you live. But I have a closet full of coats and jackets. I believe my obsession is stronger than my shoe fetish. It must be my strong desire to live East, whether it’s New York, Boston, DC or Chicago, that fuels it. And maybe if I was typing this in Chicago where it is supposed to feel like -17 degrees I might feel differently. But I’m not; so my white Christmas fantasies will continue. I digress.
This week not only did we experience rain (hopefully there is more to come this weekend) but our high temp didn’t get past 60. Time to open the coat closet. I have worn four of my 10 coats and jackets. (I realize this doesn’t seem like much, but I live in LA! C’mon.) I’ve worn my London Fog rain coat, my H&M $30 special camel coat, my Elie Tahari down blazer and my vintage brown leather jacket (My family has had this jacket since I was 10. I remember my mom buying it at the Laguna Sawdust Festival. Crazy.)
The cold weather changes the pulse of fashion around here. Sure left-coasters are going to sport the UGGS but then there is another group of us that yearn to be back from where we came (in my case, Chicago) fashionably and it’s cool to see. It is almost as if cold weather make us think more about what we should be wearing. And the responsible thing to me is to choose a coat to plan the rest of my outfit around.