THOUGHTS IN THE WOUNDS OF EMPTY NIGHTS

There is a deep, penetrating emptiness when raw reality hits you - - and sudden realization forces you to remember that the good times were long ago.... 

.....and those times echo with an unattainable span of distance and stun you with a paralyzing wound that establishes the fact that you can never have those times again.

On this empty winter night I'm lamenting.......in remembrance of those precious years now lost. With every passing year we drift farther away in a fog enshrouded sea - - reaching out desperately to find those evading ghosts who left us.....

.....parents, siblings, relatives, friends, lovers.....

Do they remember? Are they on the edge of somewhere waiting for us?

We wait in the solace of our memories and the sustainable light of hope.

Remembering

I remember that faraway New Year's Eve, on the deserted sand at Seal Beach - - when a thick, impenetrable Southern California fog engulfed us so thoroughly that we couldn't get away. We shared a bottle of cheap champagne, and snuggled together for warmth....and not only warmth. The depth of our kisses were much more intoxicating than champagne. We vowed never to part.

Us, on the sand, in the unrelenting persistence of the fog, listening to the gentle lapping of the eternal waves in low tide.

We would never part. Never.

I express my thoughts in the guise of a poet, which could be dangerous

Subject changing

I'm remembering the lavish New Year's Eve dinners that I prepared for friends. In later years, when my parents grew older, I prepared similar dinners for them. We three. Alone.

I seldom went out on New Year's Eve. The sanctuary of home is the best place to be.

It would take days to prepare my dinners and I enjoyed it. Very far from my extremely waning enthusiasm now.

These weren't traditional dinners. They were more like smorgasbords, buffets. Haphazzard banquets.

Instead of turkey, I preferred a small ham. Fish included salmon, pollack, and California red snapper (my absolute favorite).  Smoked herring and smoked oysters were always included.

Hungarian homemade kenyer (bread) and kolbasz (sausage), and of course burgonyas palacsintat (potato pancakes) with sour cream.

Russian deviled eggs - my favorite, and my secret recipe (I like them tangy with red wine vinegar).

A tempting variety of cheese and Italian olives (I'm crazy about both). Caviar (I'm frugal, buying the most inexpensive).

Winter fruits - - I like California navel oranges and Texas blood oranges.

What about dessert?

My absolute favorite is my special Bavarian cherry cake. I make it from scratch. The cake is not round, it's oblong like bread. Three layers of chocolate cake, each filled with cherries - - and topped with real whipped cream, not that fake Cool Whip crap.

I also make a chocolate cheese cake - A. because I love it and B. it's easy to make.

And, for New Year's Eve, I always made a simple white cake, to symbolize the purity of a beginning new year.

Drinks? Real fruit juices and Le Domaine California champagne.

That's absolutely my special New Year's Eve dinner....and the best part is that leftovers can be eaten for days.

I miss my energy and enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, my New Year's Eve photos are in my laptop back home....if I ever see it again.

I could only offer these old blurry photos

One of my white New Year cakes. It was absolute HELL putting candy confetti on the side. Yea, I made the gingerbread house, too - - another BIG nightmare task.

I used my favorite champagne on  New Years 

I was told this antique Auld Lang Syne cup is circa 1880. It is huge - - could hold a big bowl of chili.

Blogger Myra has one like it. I hope it makes her think of me. I know it will.

Take ye a cuppe o kindnesse for Auld Land Syne

This cup supposedly signifies the new year, from Bavaria circa 1875. I never used it in fear of breakage.

The glow of candles warm the winter night

Jon   ❤️  🍾🍸🍷🎇⏳️🕛❄️

P.S.

A big thank you to Dorothy from Neshua, NH and Jane from TN. I got your cards yesterday.  Hugs  💙💙

This post is very late. I had trouble with Freepix  the website I use to create AIs. It wouldn't download my pictures. The first picture is the only one I could download and it wasn't my choice. I made the second picture yesterday.

And this post is too darn long. Upon rereading it I'm VERY tempted to delete.......but I won't.

I'll write another post late tomorrow.

Get ready for New Year's Eve!

NEW YEAR'S EVE

It's now near 9:00 on New Year's Eve. Only a few hours until 2020. Sounds like something out of science fiction.

Remember the song In the Year 2525?
Zager and Evans.
I'm not really that old....

Despite having a rather crappy morning (I'll spare the details) this last day of the year turned out fairly nice. Clear, sunny, chilly. About 40 degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Denmark). 

I had a very late"lunch". Fish and chips. Coffee and Christmas cookies.

My fancy, elaborate New Year's Eves are (sadly) a thing of the past. I'm here alone in the Tennessee wilderness, with two cats and a myriad of........challenges.
I won't call them problems. I don't want to sound depressing.

I strung up some colored lights, lit some candles, and call it a party.
I put a smoked ham in the oven and will have some later.
Since I can't get booze in this godforsaken rural purgatory, I have ginger ale and mango-cranberry cocktail juice. The mango concoction is really good.

I'm remembering when I was a kid in California and our New Year's Eve entertainment consisted of watching Guy Lombardo at the Waldorf Astoria on TV.
I made this video today in remembrance.

And just for the heck of it, I made this video of me playing As Time Goes By.
This song was written in 1931 by Herman Hupfeld, and it was immortalized in the 1942 movie Casablanca.

It was difficult to make the video with anything that compliments the music. I didn't want to rehash the Casablanca image. So, I just used clocks and time-lapsed video clips.

 
Have a bright, blessed, joyful 2020 - with positive endeavors, delightful adventures, and inner peace.

Warm hugs, Jon

 

THOUGHTS AT THE END OF THE YEAR

Anyone remember New Year's Eve 1999, the end of the 20th century, the beginning of a new millennium?
Welcome to the year 2000!

If you don't remember this momentous event, then you're too young to be reading my blog.

The Millennium Purists suddenly came out of nowhere and informed us that the new millennium didn't officially begin until the year 2001.
There's always somebody around just waiting to ruin your fun. 

 This little millennium guy was a gift. He counted backwards from 10, and then said "Welcome to the year 2000!"

 I don't know whatever happened to him.

I was living in Texas at that time. My parents were still alive. So were many of my relatives who are now deceased. I was in good health and good cheer.
What a difference 20 years makes.  

That was the last year that I prepared a huge New Year's Eve feast. It was elaborate and took days of enthusiastic work.

Years ago - when I was young, optimistic, and energetic - New Years Eve had a very special meaning to me. It was a sober, reflective time, when I seriously pondered the old year and eagerly awaited the new one.

I always prepared a fancy New Years Eve midnight supper containing my favorite things: 

smoked herring and salmon, Russian deviled eggs, Hungarian  burgonya palacsintak (potato pancakes), kolbasz (sausage), assorted cheese, assorted breads, olives and peppers, smoked oysters, pickled asparagus and hearts of palm, winter salad, and blood oranges.
And always, always dry white California Champagne. My favorite was Le Domaine. 

Every year I made my three favorite desserts: Black Forest cherry cake with real whipped cream, chocolate cheesecake, and a simple all white cake.

 One of the white cakes I made (long ago) for New Year's Eve and a gingerbread house

I yearn for those joyous, bountiful New Years Eves - - - and I'm stunned (not to mention alarmed) at how vastly different things are now......and how far I have fallen from grace.

Living alone in squalor (and ill-health) in rural Tennessee. Many of my relatives now dead. Some of my lovers are dead...others are merely lost in time. Friends (those few left) are now far away.
I have two cats to keep me company.
Meow. 

My music and serious writing are on a back burner......patiently awaiting a resurrection.

Life is what you make it, Jon.

To a very small extent that is true. But mostly life is the rude and unexpected shit that fate throws at us.
While we are foolishly gazing at the horizon - looking for unicorns and rainbows - the storm clouds suddenly descend and devour us.

Excuse me, I'm merely thinking out loud. Don't try to read too much into it.

Am I complaining? Not really. It's merely a soft lament - - remembering my past with astonishment.....and considering my future with dread.

A soft lament that stirs within my weary soul and seems to echo plaintively in the restless wind that caresses naked branches of winter trees.

Is this where I should apologize for being poetic? Or depressing?
I think not.
Blame it on my brooding magyar blood.

CHANGE OF SUBJECT

Every New Years Eve, for no other reason than abstract tradition, I drag out my antique dishes - - and I occasionally use them (very carefully, of course)

    Take ye a cuppe o kindness 

for auld lang syne

This very large cup is circa 1880

 This is my favorite antique cup, supposedly made in 1790.

Two white swans.

A haphazard collection of dishes from 1820 (200 years old!).

The little guy in the center is a creamer.

I found

this calendar plate the other day. One of my aunts gave it to my parents on New Year's Eve 1955/56

 P.S.
I'll post again before the end of the year
 (I'll bet you can't wait)

NEW YEARS EVE REFLECTIONS

It is way past midnight, officially January 1st, but the new year is only a few hours old. It's still dark, and the night resonates with echoes of New Year's Eve. 

I had initially planned a long, meandering post. Fortunately for you, I'm weary and not in the mood to think or write. I'll offer a few random reflections. 

For me, new year's eve has never been a particularly celebratory time. Even at a young age I was always deeply reflective in somber pessimism. To believe that my new year would ever be happy, prosperous, or completely fulfilling was beyond the realms of my limited definition of possibility. To hope for too much was a certain assurance of doom. The superstitions of my Magyar gypsy ancestors taint my blood.

New year's eve has always been a sober time for me - a night for sweet remembrance, teetering on the vague threshold of uncertain possibilities. It is a magical night, a momentous night - filled with visiting ghosts of the past and the internal conflicts of resident demons.

I'm thinking out loud again, which isn't always the wisest thing to do. Reflections are often best left unsaid.

This new year's eve began as a dank, chilly, rainy day and quickly dissolved into a very dark, cold, rainy night. I didn't do much at all, but I did it with peaceful pleasure and a sense of calm that I haven't felt in a long while.

I got up fairly early after a few hours of gratifying sleep. I did chores, played with the cats, went outside for a few rain-soaked minutes to take some photos of the final day of  2016. There was nothing to see, really. Naked, rain-soaked trees and a dismal sky.

 view in the back yard

 view looking out from the front of the house

This was an extremely quiet night - and the most uneventful new year's eve I can remember. No coyotes or dogs, no owls - absolute silence. I seemed to be completely disconnected from civilization. Nothing but impenetrable darkness and intermittent rain.

I wrote a few emails to long-lost friends, watched the Times Square "festivities" on live-stream, sent a few texts (one to my cousin Nancy), and had a pleasant dinner at midnight.

That's the extent of my new year's eve.

My cat Kitzee (Scratch) stayed with me all night. She's presently on my lap as I write. Bosco and Scruffy are asleep in another room.

I had a few glasses of frosty ginger ale. Cheers!

I lit some candles in remembrance of 

ghosts of my past

An antique English mug (loving cup?) from the 1850's, traditionally used on new years eve. It's very large. I've had it for years.

My love and very best wishes to all of you for a peaceful, productive 2017.

Jon V.