From all of us at American 1, we hope everyone has an enjoyable holiday weekend.

Our branches will close at 1 p.m. on Christmas Eve, and will be closed Christmas Day. We will reopen at normal hours on Saturday, Dec. 26.

All American 1 branches will be closed Friday, Jan. 1 for New Year’s Day as well.

Have a safe and happy holiday!

Never As Perfect As You Think I Am

Sometimes I miss you even when you’re here
in the other room or in another chair and I wish
things were such I could touch your hand or press
my shoulder into yours. Proximity is a weakness of mine
I know, and one you gently resist most of the time.
There are exceptions. Once watching Fellini on
my mother’s leftover TV. Once talking about music
and the price of apples until an early shift at work.
Once in your hospital room filled with shrinks and
too few flowers. The day I think you began to believe me,
and cried. Sometimes I just wish you would sleep, staying up
all night with your cigarettes and increasingly empty
bottles of wine, always work in the morning. Of course
at night you feel the souls of branches scrape at your
window and want nothing more than to let them in.
Put on some Smiths record, you can see the way the sky
outside fades to a duller gray. Turn on the light, you
can hear the crosstown cars carry their burdens
to somewhere or other, you can hold your stomach
with one hand and say to no one in particular, Oh
how strange to be mirthful. Once I took care of you
when you got drunker than anticipated and vomited
in your bed. You took care of me when I was fevered
and breathless two days later. Both times you said to me
there is no apology, no thanks enough. Now I say
they are equal errands. Both nights we shared your bed
for the first time. Both nights we said incomprehensible
things and understood. You want everything in life I have
never wanted. In that way we are the same, I suppose.
I cannot know that what small things I have to offer you
are payment enough but for my own satisfaction
when you are glad to see me or occasionally when you
touch my hand or kiss me briefly on the cheek.

Just a little holiday design inspiration. This year, skip the traditional and draw outside the lines. Infuse your style into the holidays!

Our new North St. Branch officially opens for business this Monday morning at 9 a.m.

Stop in and enter to win a GPS unit. We’re giving away one every week for the first three week’s of our new branch’s opening. Plus we’re giving away popcorn. Stop in for a treat!

Check out pictures from the entire North St. Branch building project.

Autumn in the Branches
19 October 2009
Quogue Wildlife Refuge, Quogue, NY

(Author’s Note: This poem was written in tribute to Edgar Allen Poe.)

As branches scratched upon my windowsill,

Softly scratching, yet ever still,

I looked out through the dingy glass,

And saw a shadow slowly pass,

Without any shape or form.

Wrong, said I, as I wiped my eyes,

And focused once more on the dark disguise,

Hoping for logic to take over my head,

And inform my senses to get back in bed,

But they did not avail.

The amber moon polished the ominous sky,

Giving no trace to the passerby,

But my sight seen true a shadow of night,

And I fled from my window covered with fright,

Away from the inchoate form.

A scratching returned upon my windowsill,

Softly scratching, yet ever still,

And I approached with dire anticipation,

Apprehensive to see the lacerations,

Upon my windowsill.

With all the audacity one could amass,

I abruptly pulled up the window glass,

And poked out my head to see the reason,

For the night’s bothersome treason,

Upon my windowsill.

The night air was placid and all shadows were still,

It was only branches upon my windowsill,

I held my head and gave a hearty laugh,

How could I possibly have been so daft,

Upon my windowsill.

Just then the darkness shifted before my vision,

A shape reached in with hands of mission,

And pulled me out into its offensive will,

As branches scratched upon my windowsill,

Softly scratching, yet ever still.

I went for a long walk yesterday in the snow. It’s snowed like crazy here! It’s absolutely insane and the snow just keeps falling. I can’t remember last I saw this much snow, must have been when I was about eight years old and would throw on my snowsuit and run out to play when the snow fell heavy on the yard outside.

During my walk I picked some christmas tree branches that I later assembled to make a pretty arrangement for our front door. Makes it so much more welcoming and will look nice when everyone comes over for dinner on Christmas Day.

If snow sits on hedges or the crowns of trees there is a danger of branches breaking: therefore shake off excess snow.

Visit Nature Notes for more great nature photos.

St Paul’s Cathedral on the far side of the Thames, viewed at night-time through a frame of decorated London Plane trees on the South Bank in London.

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Here we are, December 18th.  The month has dashed away on the legs of tiny reindeer, as it always does, crammed with so many things to do and see and accomplish.  I’d have written sooner, but I knew Java was trying to focus on her final exams and I know how easily she can be distracted by Teh Blogs.  ; )

That frosty night in Provincetown which I wrote about in that last blog post was a start of the turn to more seasonal temperatures around here, though it was still only just a week ago that we finally had our first real frost, which ended the growing season on the porch and filled nearby Rock Harbor with tidal ice.

Inside, of course, the growing continues and my eager little Christmas cactus is preparing to bloom for a third time since I brought it home from the after-Christmas clearance rack last January.  Silly little thing.

Not far from it in the same window, my pink begonia is blooming quite merrily, as well.   They work nicely with what holiday decorations I’ve managed to dress the Nest with.

Last year’s amaryllis seems to be working its own schedule, not mine.  But I can see the top of the bulb is starting to green up, so hopefully that will bring me a treat later in the cold dark winter.

I thank those of you who sent me notes of encouragement and/or commiseration.   It wasn’t a surprise to know that I wasn’t the only one for whom the season’s merriment can seem like an unattainable goal, but it was a comfort.   Despite my slow start to feeling merry, it’s turned out to be a pretty enjoyable December, with a few notable highlights.

With it being now nearly a year and a half since my last cigarette (17 months today!!  Woo hoo!!!), I’ve been pleased to discover that my singing voice has been returning to me.  It hadn’t ever gone away, per se, but it was starting to about the time I quit.  It’s been a real gift to hear it coming back, mostly in the shower or the car or what-have-you and I’d been sort of itching to give my vocal chords a proper test run.

So when I learned that the Chatham Chorale was hosting a Messiah Sing as a fundraiser for area homeless services last Friday night, I couldn’t resist the opportunity, especially when it turned out to be a night off at the start of my birthday weekend.   What a great experience!  I hadn’t had the pleasure of doing any chorale singing for about a dozen years, although before then, I had previously sung many of the choruses from Handel’s Messiah, so much of the work was familiar to me.

Anyone who wanted to sing with the group was invited to come two hours ahead of the performance for a short touch-up rehearsal of the piece and the moment I started to sing, there was this excitement, this energy coming out of me which I can barely describe.  By the time the performance was over, I was fairly buzzing with the feeling.  I’m told I’ll be getting a call from the chorale’s membership coordinator after the holidays, with information about auditioning, so hopefully I’ll get to enjoy that feeling again real soon.

My birthday evening passed quietly at home, but not unpleasantly.  There was a nice dinner for one, a little wine, the last episode of GLEE for the fall season and the start of some holiday treat-making, with a batch of chocolate no-bake cookies.    And even a little dancing around the Nest with my Purry Pal.

And the weekend concluded with a benefit holiday concert at work (another benefit for the homeless), featuring so many of my talented friends from the local music scene.  This event is quickly becoming one of those new holiday traditions I was seeking earlier in the month.

One of those old traditions for me is the holiday baking.   Last year, I’d been a bit put off about it all, as you may recall I had an demon-possessed oven that chose not to work more often than it did during our first year of tenancy here at the Nest.  This December, there’s a new oven, but I was still a little hesitant, because of the small size and lack of counterspace available.

My laundry fairy friends (Thanks, Finches – I love you all!!) did offer me their spacious kitchen to bake in whilst doing laundry and I started the week testing out my holiday baking legs with some chocolate chip and cinnamon cookies over at their place.   But the logistics of managing  and transporting laundry and baking supplies was a bit daunting (although I know they were kind of excited to come home from their workdays to the smells of  cookies baking!).

Anyway, a little ingenuity and some careful planning allowed me to adapt what the Nest kitchen had to offer (a stroke of brilliance had me duct-taping an old cookie pan over the sink to gain a little extra work surface – viva la duct tape!), and you can see I’ve made great progress, yesterday churning out five or six dozen mint chocolate pinwheels and almost four dozen cut-out cookies.  Whew.

And so, with the Big Festivities only six days off now, I have found a bit of the holiday spirit.

Which is good, because there is still plenty to do, including just a little bit of gift shopping, and of course, the packaging/wrapping of assorted things.   To make things more crazy/festive, this morning bring’s word of a winter storm moving up the coast in our direction, with the possibility of our seeing a fair bit of snow over the weekend.    Fingers are crossed that it comes late at night, so roads can be cleared to keep things  as simple as possible.

I’ll be heading off to Connecticut for a few days to celebrate with the family, where we’ll celebrate traditions old and new.    I’ll miss my buddy, Mister Purrypants, while I’m away, but he’ll be excited to have the run of the whole house (and not just our apartment) as he makes merry with the Downstairses in my absence.

I hope to post again before hitting the road, but just in case I don’t get round to that, Badum and I send along our very best wishes to each of you for exactly the kind of holiday celebration you need this year:  one which will warm your heart, bring you close to those you love and fill your days with quiet moments of joy.

This time is precious, while I sit in my chair this is my thought. I ponder my dreams and wonder what if any that make sense. I know that time is what is needed for the work I am undertaking. It is coming. The tree trusts in the time when it’s leaves will fall. It doesn’t question the intention of Mother Nature. It only waits with complete knowing.

The growth and learning of who I truly am.  Was this the plan?  I created it, yes I know to grow emotionally, mentally, physically and spiritually.

Emotionally may have been the most challenging. So long ago I dreaded opening the door to my past.  Yet it was only a moment ago.

I found myself; small, blue from the cold isolation of love.  The tears streaked my pale face. Her eyes are what caught my breath. Un-trusting, unknowing, unbelieving.  She didn’t recognize me as a friend. I stood patiently, my hand out stretched until she could feel the warmth of my love.  Slowly, tentatively she took it. Her hand felt miniature in mine, as if she was a shrinking. Her face looked at me defiantly, her eyes bore the question.  “Will you abandon me again?”

I felt the tears erupt from my own eyes.  I knew it had been a long time and that there was only my feeble excuse of fear. Quietly I smiled, my hand gently squeezing hers reassuringly. No words could translate the truth, after all they had always been empty promises. I could not lie to me again.

We began to walk down the path. The landscape was once light and filled with the sound of birds. I noticed it was changing rapidly as we walked toward the woods. Our path became less smooth, rocks jutting this way and that. My steps grew hesitant, the fear gripped me again. I felt a less, small hand gently squeeze mine. I looked down at her face, the defiance gone. Her eyes spoke of relief and fear. There was only a faith that this was the last time.  Our expressions became that of determination, courage and the sweet voice of willingness to embrace the darkness ahead. Together we stepped into the forest of shadows.

The darkness no longer looked overbearing and threatening. The shadow faces were torment souls from our past.  Lost in their eternal doubt and pain. Fear was heavy as dew on the air.  She, the little girl inside, knew what must be done.  Her bravery and courage to be healed gave me hope. She smiled at me then as she let go of my hand. My body reacted instinctively to pull her back to me, away from the darkness that surrounded us.  Her eyes stopped me, willing me to let her go.  I watched her, trusting in the process.

No longer afraid she opened her arms wide. The souls of our past flew into her embrace; each one assaulting her small body. Like arrows, they pierced her skin. Each strike did not diminish her light which seemed to be growing brighter. The white glow became brilliantly bright, blinding me for a moment.

My arm came down from my eyes, the temporary shield of her christ-like glow. The shrieks and howls of the dark were gone. The silence that emanated from the forest cloaked me in its warmth.  We were waiting, then the music pierced my soul as the sun rose from its slumber. Light poured into the forest illuminating the trees, the flowers, the stones and the grass. The little girl standing on the small hill. Her hair a brilliant blond, eyes as blue as the ocean and skin no longer pale but golden was bathing in the  light of the sun.  I looked around the once dreaded forest. No longer did dark branches bar pathways, or great spiders spin webs of doubt and confusion.  Now there were flowers sprouting beautifully in their earthly beds of grass. Blue with hints of pink, purple on the petals of white, yellow petals encased in red buds, and green vines that encircled old trees.  The thick trunks that were wider than my arms could circle, tall as the heavens. I was sure only the angels could hear the sparrows that made nests for themselves in the trees sturdy branches.  The smell of rebirth, life and love filled my senses.  The distant path curved just to the right of another grove of flowers. I made out the faint sound of water flowing.

There on the hill, where the little girl stood, five butterflies flew around her outstretched arms. She stood there smiling at me, waiting.  I walked toward her on the hill as her eyes filled with the wonder. A monarch butterfly had lighted it’s tiny feet on her arm. I wanted to call out, to say something, to sing with joy and the peace I felt. My tongue was frozen in my mouth. I could only watch her and the butterflies that continued their dance.

“Thank you for acknowledging my pain.” her voice wasn’t that of a child. Its softness cut through me like a blade of truth.

“Thank you for walking with me through my deepest fears. Thank you for sharing your light and your love.”  She smiled at me again, her eyes that of a child. My heart broke at the realization of denying myself. I hit my knees, my face covered in my hands, as the tears of shame, guilt and doubt poured forth.  This little girl looked down upon me with eternal grace, her small arms wrapped around me, and I felt the flowing of peace, compassion and love fill my soul.  Taking her hands I stood, she laughed  and we spun around in a circle. The butterflies which grew to be more than twenty circled in and out of our arms and bodies.  Breathless and happy we stopped spinning.

“Now it is time.” she said.  I looked at her curiously, unsure what she meant. The thought of leaving hadn’t crossed my mind but suddenly I knew it was true. Her smile warmed me. “We are always together, you will only have to look within, and there I will be. For we have walked this road of forgiveness together. I love you.”

The tears fall from my eyes as her arms reach around my neck. I know she is safe. I know she is whole. I hold her close and whisper:

I love you, Rochelle

I will always protect you.

I will never abandon you.

As the words melted into the soft morning, the little girl became the light of the sun. The sun melted into my skin until at long last I held only myself.

Except from the book,  Love Letters to the Universe, by Rochelle Foulk

Love, Rochelle

http://www.rochellefoulk.wordpress.com

Looking upwards through the spindly twigs of  Silver Birch trees on the pavement, the sharply-angled corners and the curved sweep of the tall building make it look like mountain peaks. The black glass of the windows reflects the blue of the sky and white clouds above. The silver bark of the trees and the yellowing leaves, still amazingly remaining attached in mid-December, make a fantastic natural contrast in colour and form to the graphically dramatic man-made background. 

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

To the country-dweller, a walk in the urban landscape, especially at night-time, provides a wonderful opportunity to see the world from a different perspective. Nature is present but different. Mostly viewed as a feature, a counter balance to the man-made. The natural is often modified. The lily may be gilded. Like these trees decked with tiny blue and white lights but with the bare branches still visible silhouetted against the night sky on the South Bank, in London.

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

While pruning shrubs, watch out for coral spot: this is a fungal disease of woody plants causing branches to die back.

Sometimes I really get frustrated by my rules about using a little “cheap” camera, instead of my proper SLR. I would have such an easier time and get such nicer shots. I’m thinking I’m going to have a holiday guest week; exept instead of different photographers, each day I’ll use a different camera. God knows I have enough to make it work. Maybe I’ll start with Polaroid? That would be pretty sweet.

The juxtaposition of the natural with the artificial is one of the fascinating aspects of a walk along the South Bank in London. Sometimes this is incidental and other times contrived – as in the picture above where a modernistic sculpture like a tree (which is also a lamp) stands side by side with growing trees in a narrow canyon between tall glass-sided office blocks. The effect is startling and amusing.

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Did you already prune climbing roses? First remove dead, diseased or dying branches, then tie in any new shoots.

So todays photo is very abstract for me.  I am typically lean toward the more realistic.  This is a photo of tree branches against a foggy sky, with leaves not wanting to let go despite the call of winter. Then I went to “improve” the shot just a tad in photoshop elements..and thats where I made a mistake.  Instead of deleting it, I stared at it for a bit.  It was so different for me, and I think thats what I liked the most.  I am not promising more “abstract art”, that is not the direction I am reaching for in my photography, but every once and a while its a nice change.