Ain't What She Used To Be

A break in the heat and I am doing OK

Wine Shopping

Since my daughter has chosen to live in the beautiful surroundings of California wine country, hubby and I have indulged in a little taste of the grape while on our visits.  Not that we don't do it in the less-than-fine wine country of Pennsylvania, but California  does have the edge.





In the past we have visited Sonoma and Napa Valleys, which have some of the most beautiful real estate in the USA. These places are so breath-taking, that you must hold a full glass of wine in each hand in order to keep your balance.






The Santa Cruz mountains is another beautiful
spot known for it's wineries.  The steep terrain can make one queasy, but the scenery is worth it. The majestic  redwoods are throughout  and there are 14,000 acres of of planted vineyards. 

A few years ago we stopped and did a tasting at Bonny Doon.  The personnel were happy (who wouldn't be if you worked at a winery called Bonny Doon) accommodating, and great fun.  We had a few sips that day and I felt I was in a scene from the movie Sideways.  BTW, since that flick, I have never drank Merlot. 

Bonny Doon

This year's wine tasting was a little different and eliminated that nail biting trip up the mountains to visit some of the more than 200 vineyards. In the past few years a group of those wineries have set up stores, restaurants and outdoor cafes in the middle of the town of Santa Cruz.  Although we missed the beautiful scenery along those curving  high-elevation roads, we did get to enjoy the very colorful aspect of the town itself.  Santa Cruz is one cool place!

We started out at Bonny Doon again, and for a small fee, we tasted 5 wines.  For those who have never had the pleasure of this experience, a taste is about 3 to 4 sips.  Everything was fine and festive (although, due to the crowds, it lost some intimacy it had at it's previous location, ) and we chose two different wines to bring home with us.  At our second stop on the tour, I got to try the first wine of the selection and started to feel a little woozy. Between both wineries, I had drank less than a glass, and I was already down for the count.  I took a seat and waited for hubby, but I was not feeling well.  They had to take old grandma home.  Was it my age, had I lost my mojo?  Woe is me.

We have plans in September to go to a wine festival in PA.   Here the wines are not as renowned, nor as good.   I may do better as it could be the degree of sophistication that threw me off.   I might just have been out of my element in California.  I don't speak wine talk, tend to spill when I swirl, mispronounce the pompous words, and really don't smell all those aromas they tell me are in there.   I guess that I am just a cheap date - one of the things that hubby likes about me. 

My Retirement - Where the Cool Breezes Blow.

Back home and doing OK

California Dreamin'

While most of the country was suffering though record-setting high temperatures, hubby and I enjoyed the cool breezes and perfect temperatures along the Monterey Bay, CA coastline.  The fog  creeps in (like little cat's feet) in the morning but by noon we are enjoying the warm California sun.

We watched the surfers in the early morning (daughter and son-in-law)

Visited the fish

                                                                                                          

Enjoyed watching the wonder in our granddaughter's eyes.

Did some berry picking by the sea

Fruits of our labor - Strawberries and Olallieberries

Yes, I said Olallieberries (cross between the loganberry and the youngberry, which itself is a cross between the blackberry and another berry (raspberry and dewberry, respectively).   Yeah, whatever that means.

And took in some of the cultural attractions.

Good time had by all!

My Retirement- Inappropriate

On vacation and doing OK

What did you say?

Children are notorious for spouting out just what is on their mind.  How many of us just wanted to run and hide when one of our little ones said the wrong thing to the wrong person.  You sit there and cringe as the words come out of their mouth and you quickly try to think of something to divert attention away from the offending comment.  However, most people have been in that situation at one time or another and even if you are the one being being asked why your eyes are crooked or your teeth so big, you understand as it is out of the mouth of babes and therefore innocent.

Now we go to the other end of the spectrum - adults with no sense.  After a man that I became related to 44 years ago spouted out a totally nonscensical remark to some children that took me back and had me reeling, dear son-in-law piped in and said "It is really hard to be a man, we just can't help ourselves."  "Being one step before Neanderthal", I said.  "Yep, that's it" he said.  Now I get it; it just had to be explained to me.  In a few million years they should be evolved.

My Retirement - What happened to "Less is More"?

Getting tired and run-down but I'll be OK

Plans gone astray.

This was my year to cut back on things, less planting, less planning, less anxiety, less, less, less of everything.  Easier said than done!  I am sitting here, still anxiety ridden, still have too many plants to care for, and have plans coming out the wazoo.  How did this happen.? After much introspection, I realized it is who I am, and at this point of my life there little chance that I will change, but I need to get a handle on things.  So I am going to take a break from blogging for a few weeks and sit back and relax, relax, relax.  I will check in on all the blogs that I have come to enjoy and look forward to reading, I just won't compose until I have something to say.   However there are so many good things on my plate and new adventures to experience that I am sure in a few weeks I will be back and feeling healthy.

Thank you all for reading my nonsense. I am so appreciative to my followers for taking the time to visit my blog.  I will see you in September, if not before.

My Retirement - Cool Girl

Hot summer and I am doing OK

The "In Crowd"



Most people, at some point of their lives, want to belong to the hip, cool crowd.  We want to be popular and accepted.  As we mature, this becomes less important as our values change.  Being an individual and being true to ourselves and beliefs are more what we aspire to be.  However, there is always that yearning to be accepted by some one or some group.


There is a comedian named Kathie Griffin who has a show called "My Life on the D-List.  I have never watched the program, but I have seen her on other talk shows and she is not my cup of tea. I find her foul-mouthed and cruel.  However, the title of her show is funny and we all might have related to this at some point in our lives, especially in our younger years.

To many people I have appeared to be an extrovert, but deep inside there has been this lump in my belly that screams "I'm scared".  I have used a sense of humor to hide this dark secret.  Over the years, I have learned to be comfortable with myself and although I lack confidence in many aspects, I find that I now fit my britches very well.  Wish it happened sooner. 

As a teenager and young woman, I was never on the "A" list. Once or twice, I may have hit the border line B-;  think I belonged on or around C; know I touched the D and maybe E or F,  so I guess I traveled in many circles. I look at the C group as being sort of nerdy, naive but opinionated, doesn't walk between the lines bunch of people. It is a real comfy place to be.  This group does not have to be perfect, but we are inventive, Miss or Mr. America we aren't, but we are Bill Gates. We can move up the list as Bill did, but where can you go if you start out in "A". 

Now though, in the latter part of my life, I look at my smart, funny friends and see that yes,  somewhere along my life, I moved up.  This is the greatest group of people ever.  Our friendships have lasted almost 40 years and we have had a wonderful time.  Our kids admire our closeness and think we are cool.  Cool, I finally made it, or maybe I always was and didn't know it.

My Retirement - A Party of Friends

Holiday is over and I am doing OK

Good Times

I have been a very fortunate person.  I came from and am in a loving family, always had a friend, worked at places where I met terrific folks and yes, life has been good to me.   I was never a part of the jet set, never drove a Cadillac, never traveled to exotic places, but home has been where my heart truly is. My children are educated and on their own and I am proud of the job I did getting them there.  My siblings are so special to me and we have a deep, loving relationship that is supportive and kind.

Yesterday I sat under the shade of my willow tree with some friends and family, listening to music, having a little of the grape, laughing about the ordinary things in life and having a good time.  How grateful I am for my blessings.

My Retirement - Land of the Free, Home of the Brave

Big Weekend and I am doing OK

Of Thee I Sing

I am fortunate to live in a very historical area of the US. Brave soldiers fought and died on this land to bring about this great experiment known as America. I am surrounded by the ghosts of the past wherever I go and swell with pride at the sacrifices that they made for all of us who reside in this land of freedom.

My county tis of thee,
Sweet Land of Liberty,
Of thee I sing.

Cemetery near Valley Forge, PA

About a mile from my home there is a cemetery where twenty-two Revolutionary War soldiers are buried. I drive by this site many times a week and only stopped by a few times to reflect.  There are no names written on their graves, they are unknown, but not forgotten. On Monday, there will be a ceremony at the site which will be attended by local town councils and a core group that gather every year to remember.

Land where my father died,
Land of the Pilgrim's Pride,

Soldier's huts at Valley Forge

Not too far down the road is Valley Forge Park. This was where Washington and his troops of about 11,000 men encamped during the winter of 1777-1778. Many died because they were ill equipped with supplies of clothing and food. In June they left to pursue the British who were heading toward New York







This is Washington's headquarters where he stayed along with his aids. His wife Martha also joined him for a few months that winter. The building is 80% original.





The park is a beautiful place to go to reflect and be thankful for the country that we love.


From every mountain side

Let Freedom Ring!

My Retirement - Some Peace and Quiet

Beautiful day here and I am doing OK

The Sounds of Silence - Not

I read Molly Golver's blog last night (Some Other Mountain) where she showed a video of her gardens in the early morning as she walked around soaking in the beauty of her surroundings.  It was just lovely and it inspired me to do the same.  Although I am awake around 5:30 AM most days, I tend to lay in bed and look out the window as the sun comes up, the birds chirp and the day begins.  I look over the plantings in my backyard from the privacy of my bedroom window and get that panoramic view.  This is a plus as I don't see the weeds that grow faster than any other vegetation, don't feel the need to cut back the bushes that I trimmed three weeks ago and have regrown, and don't get bitten by the bugs that seem to be in abundance this year.   So this morning, influenced by Molly, I jumped out of bed at around 6:30 am, went downstairs to my kitchen to brew my tea and prepared to get a headstart on the day.  Then, with cup in hand, I went  to my outside room to take in all the ambiance of the early sunlight.  On my short walk, I got bitten by a gnat or some other culprit, but was not discouraged.  As I sat there, enjoying my tea, listening to the chirping of birds,  I wrapped my mind around the serenity of the moment.  All of a sudden, this noise of a riding lawnmower invaded my space.  From around the side of my house came a Dale Earnhardt wannabe going as fast as his tractor would take him, making this horrifically loud sound as he spread fertilizer all over the lawn.  The birds took off for the woods, the peaceful feeling disappeared and  I ran into the house (I was in my pj's) dropping the tea all over myself.

So my moment of Zen was gone.  Back to my bedroom I went, closed the windows to the outside world, and muttered some vile words to myself .  Then I started to call hubby to ask why he would make an appointment with the fertilizer company to come early in the morning and why wasn't I told.  However, then I realized that he was still trudging to work everyday and I wasn't.   I had another day to try my bid at tranquility, so how can I complain.   Tomorrow I will venture out again, maybe.

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There'll be sun!

Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
'Til there's none!

When I'm stuck a day
That's gray,
And lonely,
I just stick out my chin
And Grin,
And Say,
Oh!

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on
'Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always
A day
A way!

God, I hate that song!  Makes me want to gag.

My Retirement - Car Talk

Very buggy, muggy outside, but doing OK

Vroom, Vroom, Vroom.
I got my driver's license somewhat later in life; I was all of 27. I spent my first 16 years in New York where a car is not needed.  When we moved to Pennsylvania, we lived in a house that was within walking distance of most places, so learning how to drive was not on my radar. When my son was three we wanted to enroll him in nursery school for a few mornings a week,  so I finally had to bite the bullet and get behind the wheel.  Not-so-patient hubby became my teacher. He  instructed me in his beloved stick-shift gold Pontiac with my children screaming in the backseat and the car bouncing/hopping around as I attempted to change gears. All of his veins popped outside his body and his eyes looked like those of the Wolfman.  We can laugh about it now, but it was a difficult period in our lives.  I finally paid for some driving lessons from a professional and took my test with my mom's automatic car. I passed on my first try.  Hubby's comment to me after I called to tell him the good news was "just because you have a license, doesn't mean you can drive".  I have been trying to prove him wrong in the past forty years, but he is not convinced yet.

The first car I bought was from a neighbor and it cost me $50.  It was only four or five years old and for some reason all the paint had faded and was coming off.  It was sprayed with some kind of flat coating and it was not pretty.  However, the engine was good, it had a radio and air-conditioning and it was extremely cheap.  At that time, I was a part-time nursery school teacher at a local church. Before we bought this car,  hubby would catch a ride to work with someone else and let me have our only car, although somewhat begrudgingly. With my new acquisition,  I no longer had to beg and was more self-sufficient. It also had an automatic transmission and I no longer had to live in fear of hillitise (car rolling back at top of a hill).  One aspect about about the car though was that the lady who previously owned it had quite a reputation around town (if you know what I mean) and this vehicle was well known in some circles.  For the first year I had people beeping at me when they passed by, thinking I was the famous Bridgette.  I'd wave back, as I am a friendly person, but did not know why all of a sudden I was so popular. I did not find out till later.  I kept that car for about 4 years and never minded the way it looked; I was just so happy to have my independence.

Now that I am old(er), I am driving a car that still gets me beeps and waves.  I have a Subaru WRX, which is an all-wheel drive sports car.  It was one of my purchases that has become another  "what was I thinking" moment.  I bought it six years ago when I realized that we needed one car in the family that  would drive well in the snow. My previous vehicle had been a small red sports car and I loved the feeling of driving it.  I did not want to go from that to some ugly SUV.  All Subarus are AWD and I was very impressed with the look of the WRX model.  Hubby was thrilled, that should have been my clue.  This car has a turbo engine, is high performance, and goes vroom, vroom vroom when you power it up.  Unfortunately I am not in the vroom, vroom, vroom part of my life and seldom drive on roads that the speed limit is over 35/45 miles an hour. Those that drive this kind of car are men of the average age of 30 with no kids. I also found out that owners of this car feel they are in a club and when they see you coming their way, they will honk their horn and wave.  When they see me behind the wheel they almost get whiplash.  I am sure the question on their mind is "Why is she driving her grandson's car". 

Besides these whippersnapper waving at me, there are others on the road that also want to greet me with hand signals.  I have lost that adventurous feeling I used to have when I drove with one arm hanging out the window while singing and moving  along with my music and not necessarily watching the  speedometer.   Nowadays, my hands are tightly gripped to the wheel, my mind fully concentrated on not getting lost and doing the speed limit (or maybe less).  There are people who take objection to my "cautiousness" and want to let me know they disapprove.  Sometimes my feelings get hurt when they speed past me and yell out something I cannot decipher,(but their fingers give me a clue), however, other times, I might answer with my own remark, but by then, they are dust in my windshield. I am thinking of getting a big bumper sticker that says "bite me", just to let them know beforehand how I feel about their vileness.   Their time will come, as it did for me.

There will probably be a para-transit van in my future, but not yet.  I went vroom, vroom, vroom yesterday while driving , so this old girl still has something going on.

My Retirement - The Caveman

No jury duty and doing OK

Thinking process for a Weiner.



I have a theory that if it weren't for women, men would happily walk around naked and still chew on bones.  All we have to do is look to our elected politicians to see that.  

I have never been a prude and am quite liberal in my thinking, however, I do have a certain prejudice against stupidity.  Is there a rehab that they can go to for being a nincompoop? Maybe a drug company can market a pill and advertise it for NCPP syndrom or WAJ (what a jerk).

 Nuff said!

My Retirement, A Call to Duty

Finished planting and doing OK

Law and Order

About a month ago I got that letter in the mail - Summons to Appear for Jury Duty.  This was not for County Court, but rather Federal Court, which is another whole can of worms.  County Court often involves money cases and local criminal trials and many are pleaded or settled out of court.  Federal could involve terrorism, the mob, and high profile people/events.

About 10 years ago I was called as a potential jurist for Federal Grand Jury which was looking into the Pennsylvania mafia and especially it's main man (who will be nameless for this blog). They brought in about 40 people and from them they choose about 15 or 16 people.  This was an 18 month commitment for one day a week.  The only excuses they would accept were:  You were dying, someone you are taking care of is dying or you are moving out of state.  When I heard what this Grand Jury was investigating, my first thought was "move" but not to New Jersey  (Soprano territory). Most people had some trepidation about the mob, but the judge assured us that the Mafia respects the court system and there should be no worries about finding a horse's head in our beds. We didn't necessarily take his word on this.  After that, we were seated and a computer randomly picked the lucky people by there seat number. Fortune was on my side and I was not called. A woman who was chosen and who I later met outside told me that she watched me from the jury box and saw a look on my face that screamed "heart attack".  To say I was relieved when they said they had enough jurors and everyone else could go home would not be an exaggeration.

Fast forward to 2008 and again  I receive another letter from Uncle Sam but this time is was just for one trial.  I combed the paper to see what may be coming up and again, another high-profile event was happening.  A housewife, given the name Jihad Jane by the press for recruiting terrorists on the Internet, was to be tried around the time my court date.  I sweated that out for a few weeks and then per instructions, I called the court phone number the night before having to appear and was told that the jury was filled and I need not come to court.  I could finally breathe out again.  

Now I am to appear on Tuesday and there is that chance that again my number will not come up.  However, for trials the numbers are sequential and mine is low so I do expect that my luck has run out.  I have not looked in the paper to see if any big Federal  cases are due this week as I don't want to get my anxiety clock going again.  So I will do my duty and perhaps have a fascinating week where I will meet new people, use my sensibilities and be a good citizen.



.

My Retirement - Reasons to Move Every 10 Years

So much on my plate, but doing OK

Pack your bags when:

1. You wake up in a foul mood, look around, and see work you are not up to doing.  You want to run out the door and hold up in a motel until, by magic, it is all done by somebody else.

2. Home and Garden TV tells you that everything you have in your house is out of date, even though they told you it was the "in thing" last year.

3. The little bush you planted 10 years ago has grown and now blocks the view of the nuclear power plant towers.

4. Your basement is packed with your former life when you went wild in Marshalls or Home Goods.  The "had to haves" are now "what was I thinking."

5. Those cute little kids who used to ride past your house on a tricycle have grown and now are into Harleys.

6. You hate the colors of your bathroom, bedrooms, and so on and so on and the thought of painting everything or even picking out  new colors sends you  running to bed where you can pull the covers over your head.

My thought is that 10 years is long enough to live in a house. At about that time, things are breaking, decor needs updating, clutter is accumulating and everything is starting to become a burden. Instead of you owning the house, the house owns you. You start dreaming of that small apartment, one with maid service, an indoor pool and maybe having dinner served to you. Oh my gosh, I am describing a nursing home. Never mind, I'll stay here.

We lived in our first home for 28 years and that is where I raised my children. There were times that I would have liked to move, but the kids opposed the idea, so we stayed. They had everything you could want there, many friends, close to school and a good neighborhood.  So when the last one finished college and they all moved out, I started looking for that 200 year old home which had been my dream for years.  Instead we bought a one year old house that did not need any work, except for what we wanted to do, not what we had to do. However, here I am with a lot of work again and an older body, but I love this house, just wish we had a yard man, a handyman and a housecleaner.  A very tan, well-built young man would be nice as a poolman also, but alas, the only pool I have, you blow up.

My home is now 10 years old and we have lived here for nine.  We bought it because it was almost new and it was professionally landscaped. My idea of a 200 year old house was impractical and too much of commitment for us. We had very little to do in the new home except move in and hang up our hat and coat . The gardens were perfect but over the years we have removed much of what had been done because they became crowded and overgrown.  We also put in a few gardens of our own.  Now we are older and those great ideas that I once had give me shivers when I contemplate what has to be done.  Right now I am looking at a very large pile of mulch on my driveway that was delivered yesterday.  It looks like a mountain that I don't have the energy to climb, but I am going to give it my best.

So when the mulch is all put down, the basement cleaned out, some walls painted, I will be happy again. Today though every bone in my body is hurting and I am grouchy. 

My Retirement - Sweating

Drained, but doing OK

Gasping!

Winter of snow, spring of rain, now at the end of spring, we have the tropics.












Old jokes about heat: 
It is so hot that your tongue gets sunburned everytime you talk.
It is so hot that people are taking turns sitting in each other's shadow.
You learn that a seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron.
Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs.

and from the late, great Johnny Carson -it was so hot I saw a Brinks truck with a screen door on it.

The weather always gives you something to complain about.

My Retirement, Dress for Success

Two days of sun and I am doing OK

Looking Goooood?

While spending the evening with my son and his beautiful lady, Gina, Andy suggested that I write a blog about some of my fashion faux pas.  Now none of the following were deliberate, they were just accidents,  miscalculations or just out-of-body experiences.  I have always considered myself as a woman of good taste, but of course, that is my personal opinion.  I am sure the guy who parades naked in Times Square with only a guitar and hat thinks he is quite the style master also. Most of my blunders happened because I have spent a great deal of my life hurrying to get here and there.  Now that I am retired and life has slowed down, incidences like these should lessen.  However, if they continue, my children might think that it is time to investigate what home to put Mom into.  They do love my quirks though and like to have "my crazy mom stories".  So the following are my Lessons Learned..............
 Look before you Leap.

Shoes:  I think that no matter a woman's means, she has more shoes than she needs.  I have the theory that you should keep only as many as will fit in your racks or organizers.  My organizer fits 30 and that really should be enough for all seasons, all special affairs and all "I have no real use for them, but I want those shoes."   Many times when shopping, I will buy two pairs of the same kind but in different colors.  This can lead to awkward situations.  Three or four times I have gone to work wearing two different colors and one time a completely different style.   I was always in a rush when getting dressed, and sometimes did not spend any time really checking out what I was putting on my feet. Alas, on occasions I did not put my shoes away when I took them off but rather would kick them off under my bed.  As I sped to get out the door, I would grab the shoes with my feet and if the heels felt the same, off I went.  I did it so often that I no longer became embarrassed, it was just my fashion statement. 

Never lose your skirt:  I always liked to wear skirts and had a fondness for the wrap-around style. I liked the look, casual, sporty and feminine and they were fine to wear to most places. On my way into work one day and  my hands full of items and holding an umbrella, I walked to my car, not noticing that the wrap-around had unwrapped.  As I put all my stuff in the car, I felt a breeze go though my legs and noticed the bottom half of me was only clothed in a slip (remember them).  About 30 feet from me was my skirt laying in a large puddle of water.  There was no one in the immediate area right then so I swallowed hard and rushed back to retrieve half my outfit.   It was not dirty, just wet, but water dries, so no big thing. 

Watch out for Sales:  I never buy retail, everything always has to be on sale.  One time during my lunch hour and shopping at a mall, I found a sweater laying on low pyramid shelving.  I bent down to pick up an item and decided that  it was just what I was looking for as a present for my son and the sale made it more likable as it was half off.  I bought it quickly and then proceeded to walk around the shopping center for the next half hour.  When I arrived back at work, my boss gave me a funny look and said "you have something on your outfit."  I looked down and there on my right breast was a sign saying 50% off.   I had walked around a busy shopping center with this sign clearly stating that I or my breast was 50% off and nobody took me up on my offer.  I did not know whether to be embarrassed or insulted.  At that point in my life, some parts were still perky, but I still  had no takers.  Sad, sad, sad.

Eyebrows, Lips - what's the difference:  They sell lip liners and eyebrow liners, however, there should be some variance in their packaging.   As stated, I got dressed quickly before going to work and some areas of dress got less attention.  So yes, there was a time that I did put lipstick on my eyebrows which looked fine in the very early morning dimness, however, in the light of day, there was a definite difference.  I worked with very polite people and no one mentioned it to me.  When I got home that evening and looked in the mirror and saw the bright red brows, I wondered if anyone noticed.  The next day I casually mentioned it and yes, everyone had observed my new look. One very nice lady said that since my hair was reddish and she thought me fashionable, that perhaps it was a new trend. Another lady just nodded at me with a blank stare on her face,  and my boss said he thought I might be auditioning for a part in the latest Star Wars production.  I went with the first comment.

Hair Finishing:  Because my hair has never been thick and heavy, I believe in hair spray.  When I was young, Aqua Net was my best friend.  This spray could be used in a tornado; your house could blow away, but your hair style would stay in place.  Over the years I have graduated to better brands with more natural feeling substances.  Aerosol cans all look the same and once when getting ready to go out to dinner,  I just grabbed the large container closest to me off my vanity and sprayed.  Unfortunately, I had just cleaned my sink with Scrubbing Bubbles, which is the same size, has the same weight, and can easily be mistaken for something else.  As the white foam bubbles rose on my head and the tingling sensation was felt on my scalp, I realized it was not the look I was going for.  After washing it out quickly, I noticed that it did give my hair great body and people commented on how nice it looked that evening.  I might have discovered the "next big thing".

This blog is getting long and I could continue my adventures in stupidity, but I will leave it here.  Really though, most of us have done these things at one time, haven't we, really there are other people out there like me, aren't there?

My Retirement - B-Bye Oprah

The sun is out and I'm doing OK.

So long

You have to be living under a rock if you don't know that today is the last Oprah Winfrey Show.  When she first announced it about a year ago, women all over the country sighed; we could not imagine Oprah not being part of our day. As I  write this, I am thinking, this sounds so trivial, it is a TV show, how important could that be.  However, what Oprah did to empower people, to encourage us, to make us look at our potential, was unprecedented. 

When Oprah first started on TV,  I only worked 30 hours a week and was home in time to watch this show.  It was so different than the usual gab fests and I became a fan right away.   Over the years, because of schedules,  I seldom got to watch, but because a radio station picked it up, I was able to listen to it on my way home from work.  It was a nice cool down for me and most of the shows were very interesting.  There were many stories where I could relate or learn from or just be entertained. 

This woman, who came from a difficult childhood, believed in herself and thus encouraged so many people in the world to rise above their own burdens, to empower themselves to reach beyond and know their strengths.

So today at 4:00 PM, I am going to stop what I am doing, get out my box of tissues and sit down and watch Oprah's final broadcast.   I have to admit I love to cry at sad or inspirational stories and watching her today will be a meloncholy event.  She is going on to new exciting things, but what are we groopies to do now. 

The Cow's Serenade

It's always raining here, but doing OK

Neighborly Visit

Taken 2 years ago, he later became steak.

I woke up this morning to the sound of "moo" outside my bedroom window.  I live across the road from a field of cows who like to take strolls every once in a while.  There are about 20 or so in the herd and ordinarily I cannot see them because their pasture is hidden behind a woodsy area.  However, I have had some up-close and personal meet and greets with these sociable animals.  On occasions, they have gotten out of their fenced-in areas; sometimes the wind has blown down the gates or some naughty (mean) boys have cut the wires and let them out to roam.

One night while we were driving home late on our dark, winding road, we were confronted by a group of these cows just hanging out along the roadside. We had to put on the brakes fast to keep from hitting one. The circumstance of this possible accident would be difficult to explain to our insurance agent as hitting a deer is one thing, hitting a cow, not so common.  The owner of the farm was not at home so we called 911 and police were sent out to round them up.  I am sure it was not a part of their job description, but what were we to do, there aren't any local cowboys. We retreated to our home and from our deck we watched as cars drove down the road, horns went off, cows mooed loudly and chaos ensued - all this at about 11 PM. 

A few years ago our family was relaxing in the backyard while our young grandchildren  were playing in a blow-up pool.  All of a sudden, out of the woods came four or five bovine who were quickly heading our way, possibly to have a drink out of the pool.  The brave men-folk shooed them away, but we all decided to sit up on our high deck for the rest of the day.  Over the years they have come by to nibble on our decorative cabbages in the front gardens, taken down our Christmas lights, or just strolled around our neighborhood leaving some good size piles of fertilizer behind.

Last year a group of them stampeded through our backyard pulling up much of hubby's prized lawn, leaving it look like a war zone.  It had been raining and the ground was soft and mushy and every step they made brought with it deep crevices. My husband was devastated at the sight of his perfect grass torn up and went out to do a CSI investigation. By their footprints, he determined it was 6 adult cows with a smaller calf accompanying them.  I did question his observation, but he was happy with his masterful analysis and what did it matter anyway.  Next day, he raked and reseeded the area and a few weeks later the grass came back to it former splendor.

Today, when I heard the mooing, I jumped out of bed and ran outside like a mad woman in my nightclothes looking for the errant cows.  I was a Mary Poppins look-alike, armed with an umbrella hoping to cut the vandals off at the pass and scoot them away from my house.  With the deluge of rain we have been having the past months, the yard is like a marshland and even if it was just one cow, quite a bit of damage could be done.  I'd like to say that I saved the day, but they were not in my yard, but rather up the road by their farmhouse.  It would have been nice to have been the hero, especially since I made such a spectacle of myself.   However, I live in a neighborhood where no one is ever home and if they are, most never stick their heads out the door.  I think I still have some of my dignity, my yard is intact and the cows found their way home.  All is good.

My Retirement - The End of the World, No Big Deal

Time is getting shorter, but doing OK

Nuttiness, and why does the media love it.

According to some group, next Saturday is supposed to be the end of the world.  I am wondering if I should pay my bills or maybe just go to Cinnebon and eat every sticky bun they have just baked.  I have a family wedding that day, maybe I should write them and suggest that they take their honeymoon "this" week.  If there are only days left, what decadent thing should I embark upon because this may be my last chance.

Now I believe there is the possibility that human kind can call the shots on this and blow the world up.  What and who would be left;  probably just roaches, stink bugs and hedge-fund big-wigs.  There is so much money to be made on doom and gloom.

Every now and then we have these crazies out there with their predictions of annihilation for us all and they seem to be in their glory this year, or maybe it will happen next year and if that does not come about, well, they'll  have another date.

Me, I am going to pay my electric bill tomorrow and am planning on a good blooming season and a fun summer.  I also might eat a calorie-laden Cinnabon anyway, followed by some fine, fine wine.   Yum, life is good, especially if you ignore the naysayers and enjoy a scoopful of some sweet gooey substance with icing on top.

My Retirement - A River Runs Through It

I used to Fly Fish and did OK

My mid-life crisis as I remember it.

As I reached mid-life,  I felt a need to escape the rat race that I thought was taking over every waking moment of my life. A hobby that would take me out of my element and relieve stress was what I needed. My oldest two children were in college or finished and about to start their own lives but I was still raising two teenagers.  My days were about working, continuing my education and being responsible for the happiness and well-being of everyone in my life, whether they wanted it or not. I felt I was running as fast as I could but was never catching up.  I needed to find a place for myself, a place where I could find me (such a 90's thing). So what did the woman who was raised in Bronx, NY do, I took up fly fishing.  I had read a book, A River Runs Through It, and also saw the movie and thought, yep, that's for me.  I figured there would be no Brad Pitt character in my adventure, but the beauty of the sport and the artistry of the reel and line captured my imagination.  I went out and got all the equipment, which included a medium-priced rod and reel, waders, obligatory vest and tackle and I was all set to start on this new path to relaxation.  Fly fishing does not involve any slimy bait but rather crafted flies that are to resemble some kind of bug.  No muss, no fuss.  With the help of a manual, I practiced and practiced throwing out the line in my backyard until I was convinced that I had this baby down really well. I also took a trip to Vermont to attend a beginner's fly fishing school.  I now was ready to set off to find a watering hole and seize the day.  I drove around to the local creek beds until I found this lovely spot that was designated for "fly fishing only".  It was by this old covered bridge and was like a scene out of a movie - just what I was looking for.  Here I fished for about six years, going three to four days a week after work and sometimes on the weekends.  In all those years, I might have caught maybe twenty fish, but I could throw a nice line that would twirl and twirl until it would lay softly on the water.  That was quite a feat for me as I am sports handicapped.  I always looked forward to going to "my place" to enjoy not only the fishing, but also the magnificent landscape with all its birds and wildflowers.  It was my little heaven.   I have such good memories of those days, of the serenity, of the peace and just having a place for myself to think and dream.

When we moved to our new home about nine years ago, we actually were closer to my fishing hole, but there was so much to do around the house and my gardens became my new passion.  I did go fishing a few times when my son would invite me and hubby to accompany him on the first day of trout season at a stream near his home.  The first year I caught four or five fish, but also caught my waders on the thorns in the weeds surrounding the creek.  There were quite a few rips and was lucky that the water was slow and shallow and did not seep in and fill up my pants.  It is hard to walk with a river in your britches.  I also took a lot of flack from the men-folk  because I would scream with glee when a fish caught my line.  The second year we went, (with my waders glued up), it was a cold morning and it had rained quite a bit the day before.  You could see your breath in the air and the water was murky and running really fast.  Hubby, son and friend all fished with spinning reels so I walked a little downstream to a fly fishing area.  Because of the weather, I was wearing four layers of clothing, and was feeling quite comfortable.  Unfortunately, the rocks underneath were very slimy and slippery and as I said, the water was running fast.  We had gotten there early and were standing quietly in the water for at least fifteen minutes waiting for the 7 am start.  It was not crowded, as a matter of fact, there was only the four of us that I could see in our area.  One minute before kick-off time, I moved a little and slipped on some rocks and into the water I went.  I could not get my footing and with all the clothing I had on and the wader filling up,  I felt the rapid waters take me.  I was not going to let go of my new rod and fought to get up.  I was able to grab hold of some tree branches and saved myself from drowning and ruining the whole day for everyone.  My fishing mates, being further upstream, did not notice any of this action or hear the loud splash and went about their casting.  Our of breath and soaked to the skin, I needed some help but nobody heard me.  After a few minutes, my son's friend noticed me clinging to a side of a tree and calmly said "Your mother fell in".  They all came to my rescue and got me out of the water.  Andy gave me his jacket and made sure I was OK and asked what I wanted to do.  I did not want to wreck their day of fishing and said I would be fine and they could continue fishing, but the chattering of my teeth and the look of coming close to death on my face told them it was time to leave.  Besides, the splash I made in the water put an end to any fish biting for at least a few hours.  My son never asked me to go with him again because possibly the thought of his mother floating downstream was not a good image he wanted in his head.

Last month I went around taking pictures of the four covered bridges in our area and walked close to the place that I had spent so many hours standing and throwing my line out.  Nothing had changed, there were very few people around and the memories came flooding back.  I don't think I could make it up and down the banks like I used to, I probably cannot throw my line like before, and I don't think I have the patience or attention span to keep it up for more than 15 minutes now, but there is that serenity that I still search for, the wildflowers and the large birds that I loved to watch and I think, maybe, I should try again.

My Retirement - A Mother's Love

Been there, done that and doing OK.

Mommy Dearest

I am the mother of 4 adult children.  Today is Mother's Day and I want to say that I could not be prouder of the children I have raised.

My son Andy is my Pride.  He is the first born and the only son I have.  He has always been the most driven and because of his birth order in the family, he may have had the largest burden.  However, that is life and fortunately or unfortunately, that is his role.  The first born is your experiment and your practice child.  They are also the ones who you put all your hopes and dreams into and more is expected.  A few weeks after he was born my husband was transferred to a small town in Michigan called Bad Axe.  It was four blocks long, not exactly a hubbub of activity, and the three of us lived in a motel apartment for 18 months.  We knew very few people and had no interaction with others with babies.  We were on our own and every minute of my day revolved around me and my son. I had such great plans for him, he was my life.   At four months old as he would  love to grab at newspapers. We would lay the paper on the floor and as he would reach for it, we would slide it a few inches away so he would push himself to crawl to get it. How Tiger Motherish that sounds, ugh.   That child crawled at five months, stood at six months and walked at seven and a half months.  We thought this was normal.   I wanted to get him a piano on his first birthday so he could play at Carnegie Hall or the Met when he was five. Yes, we were a little bit obsessive.  Despite all our mistakes, my son has lived up to his role and is successful, however, more than that, he is a good man and a marvelous father.   I never got him the piano, he never played at the Met, but he and his son can play a mean game of Guitar Hero. I also love that they both like to sing and I believe that people who are melodious, have something special in their hearts.  He is my success #1.

Heather, my second born, is my Heart.  When she came into my life I had some experience under my belt, was much more realistic, and she was a very easy child.  She always wanted to please and I can think of very few times in her childhood when she gave me any problems.  Being my first daughter, I wanted things for her that were not available for girls of my generation.  Women's role in the 70's was changing and opportunities were now opening up.  Young girls could now have dreams and were not relegated to only certain jobs and careers.  She was never going to know about limits, about what girls could not do, only about what she wanted to do.  I encouraged her to think for herself and be the best she could be.  She did this and more. Heather' s heart is so big, her thoughts so idealistic and her kindness has no bounds.  She has a career she loves and young daughters who also appear to be free-thinkers. Her first child is only 6, but I see a future president of something there.  Success story #2

Third child Molly is my Smile.  This lovely person has made me laugh from the time she was born.  Sometimes she didn't mean to do this, it just came natural. At times, she had a problem being tactful but that always led to a good story and lots of giggling afterwards.   She was also a pleaser and so easy to get along with.  Like her brother and sister , she was a good athlete and because of that was able to travel overseas performing in gymnastic events.  My expression to her was "Yes, you can",  and she did.  People have always loved her and enjoy being around her and just as much as she is my daughter, she is my friend.  I beam with pride when I tell people I am her mother.  Molls has three beautiful, talented girls who look like her and are also a delight to be around.  They seem to have inherited so many of her traits and that makes me smile.  Success story #3. 

Last child is Sarah; she is my Adventure.  She was born 11 years after my first and four years after my third.  She was a gift.  When they handed me this beautiful child, she smiled. OK, I know it was probably gas, but I will always remember that look on her face.  When she came along, I was getting tired and not so idealistic anymore.  At this point in my life, I just wanted some quiet.  Her birth order dictated that what she wanted, she usually got.  Being the baby is a good position to be in.  Sarah has grown up to be a lovely woman and I so enjoy her company.  Her father dotes on her and she in kind to him.  She has that special something and brings so much joy to our family.  I am so proud of the person she has become and am so glad that I had that "one more" child.  Success story #4.

On this day, I want to thank my children for making my life so wonderful and fulfilling all my dreams of being a mother to such exceptional people.

The Inspector

Repeating myself with an oldie today, but my life got busy and I am doing OK.

Looking for Perfection

Hubby has worked most of his life in Quality Control.  This is perfect for a person with borderline OCD.  Was he born this way?  Possibly, since he is the oldest and as we have all read in countless articles on the Internet, first borns are the most driven. I was second born and am more in the slower lane, although my family may have something else to say about that. I guess I have my own crazies, but that is another subject.

Hubby looks for mistakes, searches for imperfections and finds satisfaction in any flaw he finds. You say that is a negative trait, no, no, he will tell you.  It is necessary and the world and I am better off knowing what is wrong so these things can be corrected and then we will all live a more satisfying life. 

The question always arises in our family as what to get as a present for H.  Give him a sweater or shirt, he will look for the loose thread.  Any item you present to him, he will closely inspect, turning it over a few times and if he has not found any failings, he will smile and everyone will rejoice. 

Now that spring has arrived, he has accompanied me on my walk-abouts in the neighborhood.  We cannot go past two or three homes without his commenting on the state of someone's lawn.  Dandelions and flowering weeds are not permissible in his eyes.  However, now that most of the offending plants have gone away due to lawnmowers, he is having a more relaxed walk and I, a more pleasant one. 

As much as all of this drives me up a wall, I do see some merit in his quest for excellence.  Heck, we have lawyers out there raking in millions for mistakes people and companies make. None of us wants to be a victim of errors in judgement or product failure.  However, no one and no thing is infallible.  Living with inadequacies is a good thing, it helps put things in perspective.  Mistakes are made because we are human and we all learn more from these than our accomplishments. It is about realizing not everything is important, letting things go and smiling and laughing at our failings.

I must say though because hubby is hubby, my family has lived a good life. I do like that I can count on him to fix things, to have remedies for problems and because of his piccadillos, I always have a good story.

My Retirement - Losing a Friend

Grieving, but doing OK

Martian



Being free and having fun

 Sixteen years ago my daughter Molly decided she wanted to move out, get an apartment and live with some friends.  Three months later she was back with her bags and a little surprise in her pocket.  Inside was this little ball of black fur with a white diamond spot on his chest and 4 white booties. His face was shaped similar to an alien so his name became Martian. He also had a broken tail that must have happened at birth, but it made him distinctive.  Like most kittens, he was adorable and hard to resist. We already had this experience when my son Andy had come back from college four years earlier with the same type of gift for us.  We gave great thought about accepting these presents, but hubby fell in love each time and so did I, so we adopted these two wonderful guys.

Casey was your typical short-hair, fat, lap cat who always wanted to be around you.  Martian was more aloof and we figured he might have some feral blood in him. Although he was very loving and playful,  he always sat at arms length away from you so that if you wanted to pet him, you had to bend or stretch.  This independent attitude made us appreciate and love him even more. Casey and Martian were great friends and often slept with their arms around each other with Casey taking the alpha role and Martian his devoted companion. Unfortunately, we lost  Casey 6 years ago to cancer and Martian seemed lost without him.  We did get him some other playmates but that did not work out as the newbees were sisters and wanted nothing to do with him and often pushed him to the wall when attention or food was handed out.  He was a wuss and allowed them to disrespect him.  However, he was smarter than those two bullies put together.

I will not bore you with cat stories, but let me say that this beautiful, sweet guy was there for me on many occasions. I suffer from terrible leg cramps at night and when I was in pain and screaming from them, he would scratch at the door to get to me.  If I was sad and crying, he would sit beside me. When I have fallen, he would come running to watch over me. He had so many dog-like personality traits and despite his small size, he had a big heart.

Today we lost our Marchie.  He had been losing weight for the past few months and we thought it had to do with his hypothyroid disease, but it was cancer.  Every day we saw more of him waste away and we did everything we could to prolong his life, just as much for us as for him.  Last night things became very bad and today hubby, who heart was breaking, took him for his last ride to the vet. 



Martian in Old Man's Chair



Those of you who are blessed with a pet will understand my grief, those who are not animal people will not.  Then there is that anti-cat bias.  So many people who are dog people find cats useless and not as important or as fun as dogs.  I was one of those people as I was raised in a house with many dogs and had no real feeling towards "the other house pet."  Then Casey and Martian entered my life. Most animals will bring you companionship and will wrap themselves around your heart and you are the better for it.  My life was so enriched with this little guy.

Martian was very special, smart, and a great pet.  I will miss him so

My beautiful friend

My Retirement - Disney, the Mother Killer

Went to movies, it sucked, but doing OK

Disturbia

http://youtu.be/nLvX-erABqY - Click on to see Bambi promo.

Seeing Bambi in the early 50's traumatized me for life.  The movie came out in 1942 which was before I was born so I must have seen a re-release. Within 15 minutes of the film's start, the young fawn loses his mother in a forest fire. The scene of the fire and Bambi looking desperately  for his mother was very disturbing to me as a young child, especially since I had a mother who was not always well. After seeing this film, I lived in fear of losing my mom and anticipated the worst.  Disney also gave us Cinderella (girl with a dead mother) Snow White (girl with a dead mother and stepmother who wanted to kill her) Hansel and Gretel (dead mother and witch that wants to cook and eat the children) and more recently, a terrific movie they did with Pixar, Finding Nemo (mother, brothers and sisters dead).  I won't even get into old films like Pinocchio, Dumbo and Sleeping Beauty, which were very sad tales surrounded by blue birds and cute songs and were accepted children's theater.  I have to admit though, while growing up I used to love watching Disney Presents and lived for Wednesday at 7 PM to see the latest installment of stories like Davy Crockett, his life and "Death" We certainly were not protected from the sad facts of life like today's children, however these tales were not light entertainment and I think I am not the only one who had many sleepless nights over them..

Last Friday, Earth Day, we went to see the newest Disney "fun" film, "African Cats". I had seen Oceans last year and really enjoyed it.  There was also the added factor that $1.00 of my ticket price was going to an animal charity and that is always good. The coming attractions were beautiful, showing only love and family and  inspirational  music; the actual story was something different. It was like Bambi on steroids.  Five minutes into it, I decided I could not watch it any longer.  I could not walk out as I was with other people and they seemed engrossed with it.   I decided to close my eyes or look sideways and not at the screen.  However, Samuel L Jackson, as narrator, was telling the sappiest story ever and I'm not deaf enough yet not to hear it especially with digital  surround sound or whatever they call it.   Much of the music was a lone cello playing, the saddest sound there is.  Funeral dirge comes to mind.  Film story:  cute cubs frolicking with their mothers and siblings among a breathtaking scenery, always followed by some animal trying to kill them.  Samuel would say in this singsong voice "they got away - this time". You know, of course, what that means. I am not going to give away the entire movie just in case you like this type of horror, but let me say that line was repeated quite a few times throughout the movie. There is much violence, death, abandonment, tearing apart of flesh, and lots of other distressing events.  The little boy down the isle from me started out in his own seat but as time went by, he was in his parent's lap clinging to his father.

 Now, I know this is life as it is, but it did not make me feel good and I was not entertained.  The storyline was fake and maudlin, it showed males in a bad light, and other than the beautiful landscape and magnificent animals,  it was not my cup of tea. I spent two hours in a very tense position and when it was done I could not wait to leave the theater.  The good thing was that I did not take my grandchildren and give them nightmares.  Hubby and my friends loved it, so, again it is a matter of taste.  It was upsetting to me and I really needed some fine wine after that one. I do wish though that there were more vegetarian species in this world than carnivores

Right now I am remembering "Old Yeller, another heartbreaking animal movie from my time as a child..  There is an old rumor that when Walt Disney died he was frozen, hoping to come back.  With as many mothers as he and his followers have killed  off, maybe it is time to defrost.

My Retirement, Easter

Running around like a rabbit, but doing OK

Hiding about 70 eggs in the very wet, swampy yard for my grandchildren, cooking dinner for 15, cleaning up knowing it will be messed up quickly, but enjoying it all because I am surrounded by  people who love me and life is good.

Hope everyone is having a good holiday with those they love.

My Retirement - The Easter Bunny, And The Horror Of It All

April Showers but doing OK

Creepy Rabbit



Children holding on to parents for dear life in background



When my children were young we took them to a local park for the annual Easter egg hunt.  This is an old town where years ago most of the residents were farmers or blue-collar workers.  When it came to holidays like Memorial Day, Halloween, and Easter, there were parades and celebrations.  No matter what the economic climate was, the festivities went on, prizes were given out and the town came together.  The demographics have changed as progress (?) has come to this area via new roads and with that, more people and businesses.  Many of the farmers have sold off their land and probably retired wealthy to Florida. However, the majority of the people who have lived here for generations have remained and the celebrations still go on.

In the 35 or so years since I have been going to this local Easter egg hunt, first with my children and now my grandchildren, there has been this frightening creature walking around trying to get children to come over to it by offering the little ones a piece of candy, and colored egg or a coupon to a local ice cream establishment.  Parents try to pose their babies with E/B so they can get a picture, but most kids resist and cry.  Still the parents insist because having a photo with the scary rabbit is traditional and one they want to put besides the picture that their parent's took of them a generation ago while they screamed and cried.

There must be quite a turnover for this job as I doubt that any one person could take that much rejection. By the size of the costume, I figure it is probably a 12 to15 year old inside trying his or her best to entertain the crowd. However, it is the same every year, children hate the bunny.  It looks like something out of a horror film, as in Frank from Donnie Darko. The reaction on the kids face is similar to mine when I first saw Psycho.  The costume has deteriorated over the years and I wonder what it smells like inside the very old paper mache` mask.  I don't think anyone is paid to do this job and it is just for fun - and maybe it is a teenager who was traumatized as a child and wants to get even.  Revenge of the Rabbit is possible.



Not a big turnout this year(this was only the 8/9 yr old group) as it was about to pour rain, as usual.