When I was growing up in Geneva, there was a certain rythm to the week. One of the things I knew for sure, no matter what, was that Sunday night was family dinner night. Spaghetti with home-made tomato sauce, more specifically. My mother would cook the tomatoes on low heat all Sunday long, then peel them, add rosemary, salt, pepper, cook them some more, and then finally boil the water for the spaghetti. Any family member, immediate or less immediate, who was in Geneva on Sunday nights was invited, wordlessly, and would show up. That was our Sunday evening ritual. The sun rises every morning. And spaghetti is served at my Mom’s house every Sunday night.
If you were to ask those closest to me, they would tell you that over the past couple of weeks I have felt “discombobulated.” This is one of my favorite words in the English language. To me, it means a combination of overwhelmed, in need of inspiration, looking for meaning. Nothing terrible, just confused, or rather, thrown into confusion.
- Remember your body. Aging doesn’t stop at the jaw line – indeed, my father (before Norah Ephron in I feel bad about my neck) always told me to look at a woman’s neck and décolleté to determine her age. Our faces lie… our necks tell the truth! Extend that to arms, legs, and feet. Think of our Alexandrite gel for neck and bust, and our Q-switch body contouring gel.
I am back in Georgetown after two weeks abroad, but this morning, in spirit, I am still in Greece, remembering the magical moments spent on Tinos.
When I was a little girl, my family and I used to go to Tinos often. My maternal grandfather, a Greek philosophy professor, decided to take a sabbatical there when my mother was 16, and moved the family to the island for two years, in a gorgeous, simple, very old stone house. The last time I was there, I was 14. Why I haven’t gone in so long, I don’t know.