A Flowering Friday

After quite the week, it’s finally here. Tonight, dinner with some gals at the fantastic Flower Flat Café. We went there on a whim a few months ago and it is quite possibly the city’s undiscovered greatness. Brought Mom there when she was in town  in December and it continued to deliver.

The café features a prix fixed menu, BYOB and homemade greatness on Friday nights. It’s hard not to feel like you’re transported to the streets of France. It’s a tight squeeze with few tables, so reservations are a must. I love the decór of the place as it’s extremely eclectic with a ton of chic. You just feel at ease.

Which is why it’s the perfect spot to share a (few) bottle(s) of red. And Betsy there is this city’s Mom-away-from-Mom cook. She simply does not disappoint!

 

A Moment of Thanks

***I’ve recently just started my third Gratitude/Happiness Journal. Ever since Oct. 7, 2007, every day, I have written at least three things that made me happy that day. It’s a nice way to look back over the past 5 years and see how much there truly is to be thankful for.***

There’s a lot to be thankful for this year. And I wouldn’t know where to start. But luckily, one of the things I’m thankful for just walked into the room.

Matthias was a missing link in our family before showing up nine years ago. I often forget just the kind of family dynamic and power he brings, mainly because when I see or talk to him, it’s just us. After surprising Mom last night, it hit me as we spent nearly 3 hours at the dinner table. As he and Mom sat there catching up and having thoughtful conversations, it dawned on me; underneath his huge muscle mass, he’s a huge softie. He loves family. He loves laughing. And he loves those close to him so very much.

No matter the time that passes, he always has a place in our house. Even Oscar the dog was smitten with Matthias, refusing to leave his side all morning. I’m thankful that Mom and I have someone like this in our lives. Someone who gets up at 6:30 while he’s on vacation to cook you his family’s special eggs before you head off to work. Someone who sings along at a very (some may say insane) high octave while you clean the kitchen.  Someone who does pretty much anything to get a laugh out of you.

He’s more than a friend and brother. He’s our German Destroyer. And I’m thankful he barged through our lives nearly a decade ago and made himself right at home. Hope everyone has an equally fantastic Thanksgiving holiday.

Sending Mom off to work after cooking her the most important meal of the day. He went back to bed immediately after she left.

Getting Some Perspective

Every year around this time, I feel like most of us start analyzing life. And realizing that all the trips, dinners and other plans we broke over the course of the year in the name of work don’t leave us very fulfilled. I think at times, we put way too much pressure on ourselves, telling ourselves that we simply must get this done. Right at this very second. When often times, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.

A journalist for The San Francisco Egotist recently passed away and spent the past year documenting his life and thoughts with cancer. One piece/post in particular has made its way around the advertising sector, “A Short Lesson in Perspective.” It’s worth the read. The full read. I cannot remember the last time I sat at my desk and read something so profound, so moving and so incredibly truthful.

“The creative industry operates largely by holding ‘creative’ people ransom to their own self-image, precarious sense of self-worth, and fragile – if occasionally out of control ego. We tend to set ourselves impossibly high standards, and are invariably our own toughest critics. Most artists and designers I know would rather work all night than turn in a sub-standard job. It is a universal truth that all artists think they a frauds and charlatans, and live in constant fear of being exposed. You don’t have to drive creative folk like most workers. They drive themselves. Just wind ‘em up and let ‘em go.”

Andy’s Last Stand

Sunday, the one and only Andy Rooney sat down and did his last essay for 60 Minutes. The show itself brings up memories of my mom making dinner with this on in the background. And it wasn’t until I was much older that I began to appreciate Mr. Rooney’s words of wisdom. This past Sunday was no different.