Our Newest National Park

Wouldn't this be a great place to work?

U.S. Interior Secretary Ken Salazar and Paterson Mayor Jeffery Jones signed an agreement two weeks ago dedicating Paterson Great Falls National Historical Park as the 397th national park. Hopefully there will be some money to make this come true. The planning phase is slotted to last three years.

Sunday was such a beautiful day that Gary and I decided to revisit the falls, which we hadn't done since the summer of 1989, when Nana and Grandpa were here from Florida. I always had a busy agenda of sightseeing planned when they came. One time when we were trekking across the Bronx Zoo in 95 degree humidity, Nana commented, "You know we're happy just to sit on your deck and watch the kids play." But it was a nice day back then in '89 and everyone enjoyed the falls. Notice how leafy green everything was that summer.  One other thing stands out as being different. See if you can pick it out:

Summer 1989

Fall 2011

Did you spot the difference? No fencing back in 1989. You could go right up to the stone wall. The spiked fencing was added later.

Who's the skinny guy with the triathlon shirt? Some things have changed and some haven't!

Apparently he wouldn't have any clothes if he didn't run races.

Notable: Eric sticking out his tongue and me with a curly perm.

Me with straight hair and a rainbow

The other big difference between 1989 and 2011? In the pre-digital world, we took 5 pictures. Sunday Gary took 25. Here are a few more:

Alexander Hamilton, who saw the falls as a source of power to build an industrial city where anyone could work and achieve the American Dream.

The power plant has been operating since 1914. Hamilton had created the initial corporation - SUM- Society for Establishing Useful Manufactures.

Scaffolding on power plant to the left

View from the top of the falls

View of Paterson from downriver

It can't be November already

Wow! another fast week with a two day breast cancer advocacy meeting in New York City and a weekend trip to Long Island.(Yes, it was 10 degrees of separation!)

I also spent a lot of time working on the MBCN website, preparing to insert the videos of the speakers from our October 29 conference. Here's a sneak peak of me telling my story and introducing the first general session, Ask the Experts.  

http://mbcn.org/special-events/category/video-presentations/P0/  
(scroll down to bottom of page and click on my talk) 

Former Ridgewood Toastmasters: please note that your speech evaluations should not exceed 1 minute and should take the familiar form of a praise sandwich: Positive-negative-positive. You might start off with: "I liked Ginny's professional plaid jacket"; followed by I counted 9 ums and thought she looked down too much and ending with "she seemed to be enjoying herself!"  (I'm sure you all remember the drill from our RTM days.)

Keeping it short this week. Enjoy the last of the leaves--our Japanese maple has finally turned its glorious shade of red.

The same little tree 24 years ago:

A Lawrence Taylor Giants Fan with his little brother

How cute were they?!

TGIS

Thank Goodness it's Saturday. Yes, such a crazy week that I couldn't even write this blog yesterday under the more familiar TGIF label.

me and my cancer pals

Last weekend I was in Baltimore for our annual conference --Empowerment through Education -- for the Metastatic Breast Cancer Network (MBCN). Empowerment!  Harkening back to the 60's feminist movement, you would think that word has seen its day, but it definitely summed up how most of us felt after the conference. Very inspiring to connect with others living with Stage IV--many who are much worse off than I am-- but still pushing along and embracing life. We had excellent speakers from Johns Hopkins and glimmers of research hope in new areas of immunotherapy and epigenetics.

Everything went well, except for a glitch with the WEATHER. Snow flurries at 7 am on Saturday discouraged many of our local registrants from venturing out on the highways, so our attendance was down slightly. 

Backyard destruction

The big W became the word of the week. I arrived home on Sunday at 5pm to no power in our house. We ate out, spent the evening at Gary's office and then headed home and straight to bed. Pretty cozy under mounds of blankets, but I was looking for that warmed up brick that the early Americans put at the foot of the bed. We didn't have power restored until Wednesday at 6 pm--a four day stretch that's the longest we've ever gone without power (other than camping trips!) I use the term "we" loosely, since I toughed it out at the shore for three days.

a lone surfer

rolling surf at the shore

Our helpful utility company posted vague updates like "90% of customers will have power restored by Wednesday midnight; the remaining 10% by Sunday."  Later updated this to 90% by Thursday midnight.... But were we in the elite 10%? They also hosted free distribution of dry ice, but with no explanation of how you would use it. 

The last time I thought about dry ice was probably when I was in 4th grade at St. Luke's Parochial School. On the rare occasion of a vanilla dixie cup treat for the class, dry ice was used to keep the ice cream cold. It was steamy, mysterious and dangerous. One of the bigger boys, usually Rudy Poselivic or Freddie Galucci, was designated Dry Ice Man and given the padded gloves to remove the ice, which burns the skin on contact. They were our heroes for braving potential injury so we could all enjoy the ice cream. But do people today know about dry ice? Would they have the voice of Sister Mary Perpetua haunting their memories to be careful with that "burning" ice?

I ended the week with some long waits in doctor offices and infusion suites, another casualty of the storm, with rearranged appointments and shorthanded staff.

Wouldn't these have made great Halloween shoes?

So we missed Halloween, but hopefully have a greater appreciation for our dependence on power and a greater faith in our resiliency in responding to difficult circumstances.

Yes, I'm being resilient!

Today is a beautiful day, but since it's the first weekend we're home in the last month, some attention must be paid to THE LIST. Nothing says Thanksgiving like moving the dining room furniture into the living room and vice versa. You'd think we've got the strategy down now after so many years, but somehow we always end up with someone backed into a corner surrounded by furniture or a table and couch vying for the same limited territory in the front hall. Promises to be an exciting day!

visiting NYC

I love to go into the city--museums, plays, just hanging out.

But one of my favorite parts of a day in the city is returning home by commuter bus. The noise and bustle of the city slips away as the bus exits Route 208 onto treelined Wyckoff Avenue. You can't help but be impressed with the fall colors, although they're muted this year.  And here's the kicker:

I exit the bus at the park and ride lot and head back toward the rows of cars, but as everyone else clicks their remotes and hops into their cars, I keep walking. It's like a movie ending.  I go beyond the limits of the blacktop parking lot and across the now abandoned grass of a baseball field. "Where is that crazy lady going?" someone might comment as they back out of their parking spot. A chain link fence surrounds the outfield and a casual glance might miss the gate that roughly lines up with center field. I enter the gate and slip down a narrow dirt path where the overgrown bushes of summer have now been pared back to reveal a wooden plank bridge spanning the tiny creek. I emerge from the reeds on the other side and find myself in a magical world of...

No, not magical, just back on my suburban cul de sac, but it feels like I've officially passed from one state of mind to another.

Crazy for Katie

I spent a lovely weekend in the Charleston, South Carolina area, staying at Kiawah Island Golf Resort. I bowed out of the 36 hole K family golf marathon on Saturday and opted for a visit to historic Charleston and Fort Sumter. Hate to admit it, but I signed on for a Gray Line Tour, along with other gray heads who prefer to ride around in a mini-van and save the feet. Ah, that it should come to this. I actually enjoyed it, although the corny tour guide commentary got a little annoying at times. Saw the many beautiful historic houses in Charleston (from the outside) and then headed for the boat ride out to Fort Sumter at the head of the harbor. It would have been nice to have an extra day to actually walk through some of the homes.

Like Alcatraz, the line for the boat to Sumter includes a photographer who takes your picture in front of a green screen that they later fill in with the Fort Sumter template. The photographer spilled the beans--celebrity sighting expected for our tour. I was all excited. Who says we're not all a little enthralled with tv personalities?  I spotted no one on the boat, listened to the informative ranger talk and walked around the rubble of the fort. Particularly enjoyed the beautiful views and the well laid out path with historic markers explaining the siege of Fort Sumter and subsequent occupation by the Confederates for the remainder of the Civil War.

Enough already--here's the good part. I'm in the museum and hear the distinctive voice of Katie calling to her daughter Ellie to look at an exhibit right next to me. "Wow, Katie Couric," I gushed. "I'd heard you were supposed to be here today. Good luck with your new show."  She smiled and thanked me and proceeded to the next display. The museum is circular with window-like openings between the rooms, reminiscent of the apertures in the fort where the cannons poked out, so I double backed the other way, peering through to check their progress. Otherwise known as stalking Katie Couric!  Here's a picture Katie posted on Facebook.

Katie Couric on WhoSay

Can you spot me in the shadows behind Katie?

I'd make a terrible paparazzi. Here are my only two pictures, taken surreptitiously. 

Katie coming up the gangplank to the boat

Katie and Ellie waiting for the car to pick them up after the tour.

On the boat ride back, I strolled up to the front of the boat and found a spot on the rail, three people away from Katie. I debated making my move and when Katie went to sit on the top step of the stairway leading to the lower deck, I sidled over to her and plopped down.

I have to say she is genuinely friendly and definitely charismatic. You can see why she's a great interviewer because she puts you at ease and you feel like you're talking to a long lost friend from high school. We discussed breast cancer, her work with Stand Up to Cancer and, of course, Metastatic Breast Cancer Network. We shook hands and I was thrilled that I had gotten up the courage to speak to this wonderful lady, who has had more than her fair share of cancer loss between her husband who died of colon cancer and her sister who had pancreatic cancer. And, no, for the record, she didn't ask me what newspapers or magazines I read!

October 13 is Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day

In the middle of Pinktober, one day was set aside by Congress in 2009 to bring greater attention and awareness to the 155,000 of us who will never be pink ribbon survivors, but are surviving every day, living with advanced breast cancer, also known as Stage IV or metastatic breast cancer. Most of us began with an earlier stage of cancer and thought we were safe, cured, permanently in remission. Yet, 40,000 of us continue to die each year, a number unchanged in the last 10 years, despite the "progress" in the government's 40 year war on cancer.

I work with Metastatic Breast Cancer Network, the organization that lobbied for October 13 and continues to fight for more research dollars for treatments to extend our lives. We strive to raise awareness with the public and the breast cancer community about metastatic disease and to educate patients to be their own best advocates in their treatment decisions.

On this day, I would like to honor all the wonderful people I've met and worked with who have metastatic cancer, who continue to work for the cause, raise their families, support each other and live every day to the fullest.  Yes, our statistics are challenging and we often despair where all that breast cancer money goes, but today of all days we deserve a little Emily...

Hope is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
 

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all, 

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm. 

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

---

Top 10 things I learned about Spain.

10. Graffiti abounds.
  9. Always dress up. Where are my stilettos? I have to walk the baby in the park.
  8. Even if you don't speak English, you can still listen to American music and wear American tee shirts.
  7. Why eat 3 meals a day when you can have 5?
  6. Supersize me must have started here--big portions.
  5. Promenade on Sunday with family, friends, old and young.
  4. If you miss your college drinking days, go to a sideria and sample the hard cider shots, poured into your glass from a height of three feet.
  3. Vegetables are optional--didn't see one all week.
  2. Stumped on what to serve on your buffet table? Consider this: cook and cure a haunch of an animal, mount it with hoof intact and cover with a towel. Slice as needed.

...and the number one thing I learned about Spanish culture...
 
  1. Tomorrow is another day - manana, manana.