Mary DeTurris Poust's Blog, page 39

Manic Monday: A busy week in and around Albany

Hey, gang. What a beautiful week to be from New York’s Capital Region. No, seriously, I’m not kidding about that. For once. These days I am loving my adopted hometown more and more. Maybe because Dennis and I are regularly abandoning our children to hang out in pubs and parks, and did I mention pubs?

And this week we had the added bonus of tulips, tulips and more tulips in Washington Park, which happens to be right across the street from the offices of the New York State Catholic Conference, where Dennis spends his days. We skipped the overcrowded Tulip Fest yesterday and instead opted for a trip to Cardona’s Italian Market for Mother’s Day lunch fixings, but Dennis and I celebrated our own small-scale version of Tulip Fest at lunch time today. Lots of photos this week, lots of photos…

On the menu: This past week has been chock full of good food. Earlier last week, Dennis and I hit up Mamoun’s Falafel on Washington Avenue just around the corner from Lark Street in Albany. Just a few blocks from Dennis’ office, this is a favorite lunch spot for us. Usually we’re the only ones in the place, although this week it was packed with three other customers.

The food here is absolutely fantastic, and you really can’t help tapping your feet to the Middle Eastern beat of the music. I only order one thing at Mamoun’s: Vegetarian Combo Platter. So, so, SO delicious. Falafel, stuffed grape leaves, hummus and warm pita bread, baba ganoush, olives. You can get a look at it over there on the right. Dennis opted for the lamb kabob and was equally satisfied. 

We decided not to stop at lunch out, and continued our new Wednesday night pub/restaurant crawl with a visit to Capital American Eatery and Lounge for a belated celebration of our 19th anniversary. Although we had planned to do the flight of beers, which received good reviews in the Times Union, we opted for wine instead that night. Great spot, really cool interior, although it was a little too quiet for us. I’m sure that’s not the case when shows are happening at nearby venues.

I opted for the fillet of sole stuffed with lump crab meat, and Dennis went for the sesame crusted tuna (over there on the right). Both were delicious. For appetizers we did steamers and pork dumplings. Also good, although the dumplings were a little too salty for my taste. I’ll try a different appetizer next time. This is a great family place. We plan to take the kids there some time soon because the prices are incredibly reasonable, and there are plenty of options for both meat eaters and vegetarians — and nitpickers.

Best part of our anniversary night was our post-dinner walk a few blocks and over the highway to the Hudson River. We sat on a rock and listened to a train whistle in the distance with a bright moon overhead and the city skyline behind us. Moonlight and romance can even make Albany look pretty good, as you can see in that very top photo.

Mother’s Day not only included the aforementioned fabulous lunch put together from Italian goodies purchased at Cardona’s, but also a delicious home-cooked meal prepared with love by Dennis. I sat out on my deck in the sunshine while he made a big pot of tomato sauce and a ridiculous amount of meatballs. Then he grilled sausage to throw in the sauce for good measure. And bread. And salad. And wine, of course. We ended the night with s’mores over the fire pit in the backyard with the kids, and, after they went to bed, a glass of Jack on the rocks. For a really special touch, we prayed Night Prayer around the fire pit before bed. Perfect day.

Okay, enough of the menu for the week. Phew. Moving on…

Bookshelf: Just about finished with Halfway to Each Other. What can I say? I’m out too often to read books. And that’s a good thing these days.

Viewfinder: As I said, Dennis and I took advantage of the beautiful weather and the tulip blooms and strolled through Washington Park today. Just beautiful. Here are a few of my favorite shots from our lunchtime outing. (As always, you can click on all photos except for the very top one to enlarge them and get a closer look.)

 

And my handsome lunch date down by the lake…

Then we crossed over the bridge below and went off in search of a pub for an afternoon treat. Not so easy on a Monday at lunch. We finally ended up at Shogun, where we grabbed a cold beverage, and then popped into Little Moon, the very cool Tibetan gift shop right down the street. I will be heading back there for some trinkets, for sure.

Okay, enough already! Yeah, it’s been a GREAT week here in Albany. Plenty more where that came from.

Soundtrack: I will warn you: Do not, I repeat, do NOT listen to this song if you are offended by the F-word. Can’t help it. I love this song. Right about now it feels like my personal anthem. It is explicit, and it’s part of the reason I love it so much. Because sometimes that’s exactly what life calls for. So, sign off now, if your ears might bleed or if your soul might whither. Otherwise, raise a glass and sing along with Halestorm’s “Here’s to Us.”

 

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Mary Undoer of Knots, I’ve got a job -or two- for you

My May Life Lines column, running in the current issue of Catholic New York:

Back when I was young, my mother would take me over to the chapel at St. Aedan’s Church in Pearl River every Monday night for novena. Although the Mary-centered prayer was part of my young spiritual consciousness, after my mother died and I moved away from home, I packed up my interest in novenas along with my old stuffed animals and Barbie dolls. It felt like something that belonged to my childhood, something I’d outgrown.

Even my devotion to my patron saint waned as I aged. The Rosary was always a challenge for me, and Mary always too perfect to view as a role model. I longed for a stripped-down spirituality where I met God in silence by myself, no helper necessary. And for a long time that’s the way I went forward, loving Mary from afar but not feeling the need to draw her close in prayer.

Becoming a mother changed that for me, at least on a surface level. I needed someone who would have my spiritual back, someone who knew what I was going through, someone who had probably cried more than her fair share of tears over her child, her life, her fears. And since I didn’t have a mother of my own to turn to anymore, Mary and I reconnected on the common ground of motherhood. She slowly began to work her way back into my prayer life, but usually only in times of crisis. The Rosary was the prayer I pulled out when I was panicked, when I was in the proverbial foxhole.

Fast forward to just last week. Dennis sent me an email with a video clip about Mary Undoer of Knots, a devotion that is gaining popularity thanks to Pope Francis, who brought attention to Mary under this title when he was a cardinal in Argentina. The image of the Blessed Mother untying the knots of a long white cord is comforting and beautiful in an understated way, even if the Baroque painting is typically elaborate. Something about Mary Undoer of Knots spoke to me, and yet I still wasn’t quite ready to commit.

Two nights later, I met a friend for dinner and, as we were driving, she said, “I just started a novena to Mary Undoer of Knots.” I wondered what it meant that this unusual devotion had surfaced twice in so many days, but, being somewhat distracted and overwhelmed by life and its responsibilities, I put it out of my head. I returned home that night to find an email from another Catholic writer waiting in my inbox. She wanted to know if I’d be willing to be interviewed for a story on novenas. Now there was no denying the Spirit at work in the background of my life. OK, God, you have my attention.

The next morning I went to my computer and looked up the novena to Mary Undoer of Knots, a beautiful prayer that weaves meditations on Mary under this title with the traditional prayers of the Rosary. Despite my Rosary aversion, I decided to trust where I was being led.

“With all simplicity and patience, you have given us an example of how to untangle the knots in our complicated lives…” Those words to the prayer composed by Pope Francis remind us that Mary had plenty of knots to untangle in her own life, although we often choose to forget that. We tend to focus only on her role as Queen of Heaven, Mother of God, titles that, while true and important, whitewash the many struggles Mary faced.

Mary, whom we honor during this month of May, knew all too well the harsh realities of life. As our spiritual mother, she is waiting with open arms to comfort us, not just in moments of crisis but during the mundane and sometimes-difficult moments of everyday life.

Why I kept her at arm’s length for so long is a mystery to me.

Mary Undoer of Knots, pray for us.

 

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Manic Monday: Everybody under one roof

After eight crazy days, which included Dennis’ trip to Rome book-ended by out-of-town dance competitions for the girls, everyone landed back home late Sunday. Phew! How nice to gather the family around the dinner table and eat together and do nothing at all that night. Life is good at the Poust House. So, without further ado, here’s the Manic Monday recap. 

Viewfinder: With two dance competitions back-to-back, the girls and I had lots of together time, and lots of fun. Especially this past weekend, which we spent in Springfield, Mass. (Previous weekend was in Gloversville, N.Y. I wouldn’t recommend it as a travel destination.) But Springfield was a nice little getaway, only 90 minutes from home and with things to do and good places to eat. We were based at the Marriott, which was a great location for our competition, as well as our visit to the Dr. Seuss National Memorial Sculpture Garden. Here I am with the girls hamming it up with our Seuss favorites. Please excuse the bright blue eye shadow — competition dance requirement. (You can also see Chiara and fellow dancers stretching before their final dance in that Degas-like photo above.)

 

Bookshelf: Still reading Halfway to Each Other. Really liking it. Warming up in the bullpen, however, is The Language of Flowers.

On the menu: Since Dennis had been eating pasta for eight days straight, I tried to change things up this weekend. I left him some porterhouse steaks and Ommegang Rare Vos for a welcome home dinner treat, even though I wasn’t around to join him. Yesterday we went with roast chicken. Meat and potatoes to balance out the pasta and gelato. On the dining out front, we found a great Italian spot in Springfield, the Red Rose, just down the road from the Mass Mutual Center. No reservations, so be prepared to wait if you go. The girls and I hung out at the bar drinking Shirley Temples and Merlot (guess who had what) for close to 45 minutes, but it was worth the wait. Best fried calamari ever, and the pizza was amazing. So good, in fact, I forgot to take a picture of it.

Soundtrack: “Peace” by O.A.R. seems to be on the radio every time I start the car, and on almost every station. Fortunately, I love the song. New favorite.

“I just wanna make you laugh
I just wanna see that smile
Babe, we’re only here, oh, for a little while
I just wanna hold you till you fall asleep
I want love, I want us, I want you, I want me, I want peace.”

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Rome via iMessage: Next best thing to being there

Thanks to the thoughtfulness of my husband and the wonder of iMessage (free texts between Apple devices), I have been traipsing around Rome for the past few days. The journey has felt so real I’m expecting a blister on my foot at any moment. Throughout Dennis’ weeklong trip to Rome, he has kept me in the Italian loop almost every step of the way. Literally. (And I don’t take that whole “literally” think lightly, trust me.)

To give you a taste of what I mean, yesterday around dinner time in New York, I was taking a late night stroll with Dennis across Ponte Sant’Angelo (my favorite bridge in Rome, maybe the world), through dark and narrow alleyways that had me nervous, through Piazza Navona (my favorite place in Rome), around the Pantheon and back to his hotel.

At 3 a.m. New York time, I was having breakfast with Dennis at his hotel’s rooftop restaurant with a view of St. Ignatius Church on a  gorgeous sunny day in Rome. By the time I was getting the kids ready for school this morning, I was walking with him through Campo di Fiori, checking out all the Italian goodies in the various stalls and sitting down for a delicious lunch of pasta with eggplant and tomatoes and, of course, a glass of red wine.

Every day has been like that. From start to finish I have traveled with him all over Rome, and Dennis has made a point of visiting all the places he knows I love, sometimes more than once. It takes me back to my trip almost five years ago, and makes me long to go back there with Dennis for real so we can finally experience all these wonderful things together. Maybe someday. 

I’m a lucky girl to have a husband who would interrupt his own Roman holiday again and again to make sure he’s including me at every turn. Thank you, Dennis. Ciao, bello.

Here are a few more shots that will make you want to book a flight to Rome today. (All but the top photo can be enlarged by clicking on them.)

 

 

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Happy 19th anniversary, amore mio.

Happy anniversary to us, Dennis Poust, even if we have to celebrate apart for the first time in our 19 years of marriage. We’ll make up for it when you get back from Roma.

For the NSS readers out there, I did not toast our anniversary by myself, as the photo to the left might imply. Dennis bought me a dozen roses and we popped a bottle of Prosecco before he left for Italy. The benefit of being apart for our anniversary? We get to have a pre-anniversary celebration and a post-anniversary celebration. We spent the before celebration at The Merry Monk pub in Albany, and we plan to spend our post-celebration at the slinky, sexy Speakeasy, also in downtown Albany. 

It’s hard to believe it was 19 years ago that we walked down the aisle at Our Lady of the Assumption Church in the Bronx on that sunny but windy April day. I’m not going to say here’s to 19 more because I’m aiming for much more than 19 years. Let’s shoot for another 30 at least, or maybe even 40+, if I’ve inherited my grandmother’s genes. To quote that goofy Carpenters’ song, “We’ve only just begun.”

Although I love that traditional wedding photo of us over there on the right, I also have to post two other photos. One is my favorite candid shot of us from our wedding, the black and white photo Maria took when we were dancing and talking to Tricia. The other is another dance shot, from just last summer, when Olivia snapped us as we were dancing on our deck after an afternoon at the pool. Same happy faces, same sort of pose, just 19 years apart.

 

Every year, I usually post a video of our wedding song, Emotionally Yours, by Bob Dylan, but this year I thought I’d change it up a bit. I thought and thought about what song I’d post because so many are so fitting (and so many we’ve shared on our many mixes), but I decided that this one was perfect for this moment in time.

Happy anniversary, amore mio. Ti amo. See you soon.  I’ll let Queen play us out…

“You’re the best friend
that I ever had
I’ve been with you such a long time
You’re my sunshine
And I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
You’re my best friend…”

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Manic Monday: Here, there, and everywhere

Manic Monday has returned! It was always one of my favorite weekly posts back in the day, so I thought I’d resurrect it. At least for now. Here’s a little bit of everything, probably more than you need to know.

Viewfinder: So much to see this week, much of it not my own. My other half is visiting Rome for the first time, and so, of course, his photos have captured my heart. Here’s one, the view from his hotel window. Funny thing is, as soon as I saw this photo, I realized that the yellow building with the tan awning is the very same restaurant where I sought shelter from a ridiculous storm when I was in Rome almost five years ago. And now Dennis’ hotel window looks out on it. Kismet, even more than 20 years later.

And on the home front, we’re doing back-to-back out-of-town dance competitions. Here are a few quick glimpses of our down time at yesterday’s competition in Gloversville:

 

 

Bookshelf: Just a few nights ago I started Halfway to Each Other: How a Year in Italy brought our Family Home by Susan Pohlman. It’s the story of a married couple who decides, on what seems like a whim, to leave their life in the United States behind and begin again with their two children in Italy. Yeah, I’m sort of living vicariously through that one. Say the word, Dennis, and I pack my bags and go to Rome. Yup, I love Rome — and Dennis — that much. I’d follow him anywhere. Okay, except to Houston. I believe I was once pretty adamant about Houston (a very different animal from Austin, by the way, which I love almost as much as Rome).

On the menu: We had to do the Italian thing in solidarity with Dennis, who is eating copious amounts of authentic Italian food. I made pizza the first night he was gone. Next night we went to Sam’s Italian-American Restaurant, just a few minutes from us over the border into Albany. My girls clearly take after their dad with the shellfish obsession. Here’s Chiara with her child’s portion of mussels over linguini: 

 

In addition, before Dennis took off for Rome, we continued our recent pub crawl. Last week we hit the Red Caboose in Oneonta. Great Belgian beer and equally great food. Then we spent an afternoon at the City Beer Hall in Albany. I posted a review HERE, in case you missed it. This week we hit The Merry Monk in downtown Albany, another great Belgian beer joint. Even the burgers are made with Belgian ale. Great little place. Go on a Wednesday and you can get BOGO (we’re talking pounds) on the mussels, as Dennis did on our visit. We will continue to visit new pubs and restaurants and post about them here. Stay tuned… Here’s a quick glimpse of an evening at The Merry Monk:

 

Soundtrack: This one was on Sirius every time I got in the car last week. And now I can’t get it out of my head. Love it. The Fray: Love Don’t Die. A few lyrics and then the video:

“If there is one thing, that’s true

“It’s not what I say, it’s what I do

And I say too much, yeah, that’s true

So just listen to what I do

“A thousand years go by

But love don’t die

“No matter where we go

Or even if we don’t

And even if they try

They’ll never take my body from your side

Love don’t die.”

Here you go. Listen to the whole thing:

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Pope Francis: All are invited to a ‘life-changing encounter’ with Christ

I was thinking about blogging about the disciples on the Road to Emmaus when I sat down to breakfast today, and then I read Pope Francis’ homily on this very subject and realized that, once again, he says it better than I ever could. Not that this is surprising news, but, still. And, as always, he gets me thinking, especially when he gives us the three examples of what a life-changing encounter with Christ looks like.

So, here, courtesy of Rome Reports, is the text of the pope’s message today.

A thought to ponder as you read: Have you missed Jesus on your own Road to Emmaus? I’m pretty sure I have, at least a dozen times.

From Pope Francis:

The joy of Easter is born of our faith in Christ’s Resurrection and his continuing presence in the Church and in our world. With the Resurrection, all has been made new and fresh hope has been poured out upon our world. The question which the angel asked the women on the morning of the resurrection is directed to us as well: “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” (Lk 24:5).

The Gospel shows us three examples of a life changing encounter with the Risen Lord and invites us to a similar encounter. Like Thomas, we need to grasp the reality of Christ’s rising to new life. Like Mary Magdalene, we need to hear Jesus’ voice calling our name. And like the travelers on the road to Emmaus, we need to find renewed joy and hope by recognizing that the Lord is ever at our side.

These disciples sought the living among the dead, yet Jesus led them, by different paths, to faith in him and the power of his resurrection. Today he challenges each of us to seek him, the Living One, and to leave behind everything that holds us back from encountering him and sharing in the rebirth, the freedom and the hope which he alone can give.

(The photo above is a dirt road on the property surrounding the Abbey of the Genesee in western New York. Miles of empty road weaving through corn fields when the season is right. Beautiful for contemplating our life journey and our Road to Emmaus. Get thee to Genesee, if ever you have the chance.)

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A not-so-hidden gem in Albany: City Beer Hall

For the past few years, whenever we would go to Sunday Mass at Historic St. Mary’s in downtown Albany  (The church is a destination in itself, if you’ve never been there.), we’d drive past The City Beer Hall on the way home and say, “We have to try that some day.” Something about the 1903 building with the “Beer Hall” in lights on the roof spoke to us. It looked like it just had to be good. But, as with many things we say we’d like to do, we never got around to it. Until yesterday. Dennis and I spent Easter Monday downtown — first with a walk along the Hudson in the Corning Preserve and later with a walk over the highway, into Albany and onward to the Beer Hall. 

It was quiet when we arrived, which wasn’t surprising since it was mid-afternoon, well past lunch and way too early for happy hour. We sat at the bar, and our knowledgeable and friendly bartender Steve guided us through the extensive craft beer menu. Most of the beers are brewed in the region, with a few from some far-flung places, and the menu changes daily. On top of being really good, the beer is really cheap and every pint comes with a free personal pizza. Not kidding. Dennis and I weren’t planning on eating lunch, but how do you pass up free pizza? Best part is that you take your free pizza ticket directly to the kitchen and hand it to the cook. Then you go back later and pick up your own pizza. Very cool. The pizza was super thin and crisp — reminded me of pizza I’d had in Rome — and delicious. But I digress. Back to the beer.

I opted for a pint of Schenectady-brewed Mad Jack 2025 Hefeweizen, yummy wheat beer. Dennis went for the Deleware-brewed Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA, one of the few made outside New York. I later opted for a half-pint of Chatham Brewing Maple Amber Ale because I couldn’t pass up beer made with local maple syrup. Delicious, and Steve the Bartender bought me that one on the house. What a deal. We plan to go back again and try the flight of beers — four five-ounce samples for $8. When I do that, I am definitely going to try one of the cappuccino stouts or some other super dark dessert beer.

Other highlights: Upstairs is a mechanical bull, which apparently draws quite a crowd on rodeo night. Monday night is vinyl night. You bring the records; they’ll spin ‘em. There is also an extensive pub menu, and from what we could see as food went by, it looked delicious and plentiful. Outside is a huge patio, and downstairs in the basement is a speakeasy (separate entrance with a doorbell). Steve highly recommended the speakeasy, which he described as high-end “mixology” in a really intimate setting. It’s now on our local bucket list, and we have made a commitment recently to get to our list sooner rather than later. I’ll be back to tell you about that as soon as we make it happen.

So if you’re in Albany and want some great craft beers in an equally great setting, hit The City Beer Hall, 42 Howard Street. Maybe we’ll see you there.

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He is risen! Alleluia!

“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!”  - Luke 24:6

Alleluia! Happy Easter!

 

 

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Holy Saturday: waiting in the shadows

Peter never really used to be one of my favorites from Scripture, but the older I get, the more beloved he becomes. He gives me comfort because I identify with him, especially lately. At this point in our faith story, Peter is locked away — afraid, ashamed, alone. He doubted, he denied, he ran away. Even before the crucifixion, he often seemed to get it wrong. Imagine for a moment that Jesus says to you, “Get behind me, Satan.” Yeah, that’s pretty bad. And yet Jesus saw fit to call him the “rock,” the one who would go on to lead his church, or, at that point, his band of disciples. Maybe, just maybe then, Jesus sees some shred of worth beneath my many failings, behind my own doubts and fears.

My Lent did not go as planned. Again. My long “to do” list of spiritual things that would lead to a holy goal went off track mid-way through, and, due to some extenuating circumstances, I was plunged headlong into a real spiritual desert. When my plans went out the window, my true Lenten journey began. Which is probably how it was for Peter. When he was finally forced to let go of his own plans and ideas and fears, and simply trust in Jesus, he found new strength.

On this Holy Saturday, I am waiting in shadows of my own making, like Peter, longing to be set free. Whether I choose to face the light that is just around the corner really depends on me. Can I forgive myself for my own failings? Can I admit to my own weaknesses? Can I accept God’s mercy? Can I prostrate myself before my God and admit finally that I am not in control, that I never was, and that as long as I continue to try to be in control, I’m going to be in the shadows?

Next to the cross in our family room and also in my sacred space downstairs are roosters, reminders of Peter, reminders that doubt and denial do not block us from salvation but push us deeper down the spiritual path, if we are willing to be embraced by Love, by the One who was willing to die so we might live.

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