MY UTOPIA c. 2020 by Myrna HILTON
I live within a space formerly known as a one bedroom apartment. Since this place is on the top floor of a three-story and since it faces the mighty Hudson River. I look out at the mouth of this wonder at a hilly spot, so it is as though I am looking out of a six-story window. At nightfall the view widens to the brilliant little lights of the Rhinebeck Bridge connecting our Ulster County with Dutchess County
(that's where the 'hard-money' lives). The bridge sparkles with delicious light just like my imaginary diamond bracelet.
This place, my place is my own Utopia. Here I have the liberty of nude-ness, blocked random callers, HBO and SHO, and even my TCM. I am free to be me here, so I cook a little, paint a little and write more than a little. I am free to pay my bills or not, free to observe a whole extended family of sparrows tending to their over-feathered nest, right outside the right corner of my living room. All the morning greetings chirp me awake.
As it turns out my talents are varied and many. I believe I am so blessed to have my Utopia digs. While I remain a diligent household economist I truly know why I chosen to be awarded the 6th grade Homemakers' Award at PS115 in Canarsie, Brooklyn. I can cook and sew and my Utopia has a Feng Shui flow.
Look. Here's the kitchen. Open my freezer. Go ahead. It is packed with enough frozen food finds like ready-made meals by me; veggie steamer bags. What would you like? A soup? Okay there's homemade onion soup; corn chowder and homemade chicken soup with stuffing.
What do I call A MEAL? Okay, stuffed cabbage, eggplant parm with broccoli, pasta with sauce and cheese ,chopped chicken livers with onions and portabellos, and kasha varnishkas (bow-tie pasta with bulgur wheat…)
Here's the ready-to-go-gem... a large bag of frozen peas...the most malleable of all ice packs-- sweet peas!
Oops, I almost forgot my ice cubes and every winter one snowball collection. Yes, only one a year. Along the door shelf, sits chicken franks and turkey kielbasa, beside a box of baking soda, ground decaf coffee, Goya ground espresso, split chicken breasts a package of turkey tenders.
Now it's time to visit my storage room. Follow me. It's on the lobby floor. Here I have my full-fledged authentic and very heavy boat anchor. When I dropped my anchor in Utopia, I found just the right spot for my anchor. There it it is, just sitting in the left corner, silent and strong, all alone and oh so very white.
Back upstairs, now...when I want to play dress up I just go to my bedroom and throw open the sliding- door closet and “Viola!” you can only imagine what outfits lined up and color-coordinated by myself after a very dirty vodka martini-the-rocks. Only one did it! There you will find anything like cotton long-sleeved turtlenecks all the way to sheer nite-nite clothes, cashmere sweaters and an authentic double-tie hospital gown with pull down flaps at the shoulders for breast feeding convenience.
How about some evening wear? Look, my long black dress collection on the far left. One-piece, two- piece, three-piece, four. Each of four large hat boxes loaded with goodies: my design shoulder evening bag made with two hats inside one another – one is mink, the other Persian lamb. There's at least a dozen authorized at-home-lounging ensembles. Dressed and undressed, I find myself content in isolation for as long as it takes to survive the Corona in my Utopia.