Back home again…

Had a great trip to visit with the NYC grand-daughters, mostly Eliza, who was on spring break.

Anyway, it was a quick trip…  Eliza and I went down to Rockefeller Center, but I failed to get Studio Tour tickets.  Not to be daunted we went** to the Top of the Rock…

We played games and did some book-reading, attended Emma’s All-School Assembly, and just enjoyed being together!!

I arrived back at Sonnystone on Saturday, and I have to brag that my house was freshly swept and my windows were shiny-clean.  All of the my veggie plants were in great shape.  The seeds that I planted last Sunday are just sort-of starting to pop up.  Sunday we planted 9–count ’em–9 double knockout roses across the front of the house.  We’ll be planting veggies this week-end, if not before..!

I’m babysitting Samantha today and tomorrow…

Hope your week is off to a great start!

Peace

 

** (I accidentally walked by trump tower while there…the whole block has to be cordoned off and there are seriously weaponized men everywhere.  I don’t blame Melania for not wanting to live with her husband, and I understand that Barron has special needs,  but according to the New York City Police Department, it has cost the taxpayers an average of $127,000 to $145,000 per day to keep Melania and Barron Trump in New York. By the time the Trumps vacate Trump Tower in June, (if they do) the tallied amount is projected to hit $8.6 million.  Since he’s so rich, can’t he pay that himself?)

(that wasn’t very peaceful, was it?  sorrrry…)

For Real…

Peace to All of you!

 

2017 at 5-days-old

You know I’m not perfect, nor do I have one iota of desire to be so, even though my blogs only show my good side.  Why not?  Who wants to read about my New Year’s Eve gallbladder attack (heroically faced down with magic vinegar shots and warm lemon water)?   I don’t want to whine about the $$ not being there when I planned for it, or to complain that I’m spending hours (literally) on the phone with numerous representatives of the insurance company, because ultimately these problems will all pass.  Who cares if I’m re-arranging the furniture (again) in a effort to control what I can, since I’m out of control of everything else?  You might be mildly interested to hear that Casey’s retirement=transition is going well:  he started remodeling the laundry room and is out there All Day…I visit him there and remind him that he’s supposed to be home by 3:30.

Today was our first snow, a kind of wimpy snow, and I love having Casey here with me.  It seriously brightens my whole outlook knowing there’s somebody else here.  The birds, my reliable winter companions, keep me entertained and now there’s 2 of us to watch them flit around, devouring our seed and suet.

I’m busy planning trips, especially the Kick-Off of  the “When I’m 64 Tour” beginning in February.  Looking forward to milder temps, for sure, but for now the snow and cold are feeling warm…

Peace

News Round-up

Shew!  Busy times.

Martha, Nancy, and I went over near Robards, KY to a new winery/restaurant, The Farmer and the Frenchman.  It is brand-spankin’ new and very well-done.  It’s a little far out there–and we got lost, thanks to my directions–but the decor and view are terrific.  The menu was interesting, but I stuck with a familiar Greek salad;  not the best I’ve had, but certainly good.  The wine was nice, sweet, but not syrupy.  They were out of their signature “dressed-up cowgirl red”, so I drank a glass of white — good enough to persuade me to buy a bottle.  I plan on dragging Casey down there and I highly recommend it to ya’ll, too…

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Last Friday I drove over to my mom’s hometown, Grayville, IL, to visit with Aunt Shirley and my Compton boy-cousins.  Aunt Shirley is visiting from Melbourne, FL and I like to see her whenever she’s nearby.  We went over to Davina’s Country Diner for lunch–catfish fritters, green beans, and cucumber salad-

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-and then came back to Jeff’s house to smoke and drink and play cards.  It was a blast.  There is no one else alive who I’d rather drunk with than Any of my Compton cousins, and the guys are real sweethearts.  Those boys roll their own tobacco and it is nasty, she says since she puffed up a pound or two of it.  I napped and waited for cousins Lana and Charley to show up for some cards–chit-chat–and won $4…beginner’s luck.  My clothes were stinking and I don’t want to talk about the hangover the next morning…

I bought a selfie-stick a while back, but can’t get it to connect to bluetooth, so I have to use the timer and somebody else’s arm to snap the pic…not an easy feat when you’ve been dancing with Jim Beam all day…

Girlfriend Luann is in town for her Mom’s 90th birthday party on Saturday, so we’re getting together this afternoon.  I’m going back to Grayville on Friday for a more sober visit and to say hasta la vista to the Auntie.

Saturday is the Birthday Party and I guarantee you the food will be the stuff of childhood memories.  Lu’s clan is full of interesting people to whom I like to pretend I’m related.  Still, there’s no Jeff & Jay in that fam, so they are missing out (but will probably live longer).

The first full week in October is always the West Side Nut Club Fall Festival, which I will avoid like the plague.  Ya’ll go on down there, though, and enjoy yourselves!  Olivia’s dance school is marching in the parade, but the other grandparents are covering it for me.  Lily King is the grand marshal and it will be packed–we are proud of our homegrown Olympic Gold Medalist.

Casey has the week off, so we’re planning some sort of adventure.  I’ll be perfecting my selfie-stick skills and be sure to keep you informed…

Till then…Peace…

Postcard from New York

Like most postcards I have sent, this one almost beats me back home.  I’ve spent the last week playing Nanny to my grandchildren, traipsing through the heat and humidity to the Met, Radio City Music Hall, NYPL, and some hours just hanging out at the homeplace.  I skipped the Saturday feis, but sweated through yesterday’s in Tappan to watch Emma collect 5 more trophies, and now I’m starting to pack it up for tomorrow’s return trip.

Here’s some highlights….wishing you were here… or had been…

Sisters, Sisters…at the Met,  walking like an Egyptian

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It’s all fun and games until the hug turns into a headlock…

We have seen the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular every year since Emma was born, so it was a thrill to be able to add a mid-year visit with last year’s Spring and this year’s Summer Spectacular.  Love those high kicks…

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Bill’s Burgers is our regular after-show-stop…

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That’s all I’ve got for now, kids, but we’re flying home tomorrow and the grand-daughter count will multiply x2 as we start a month of Sonnystone Camp and Festivities…

Peace and Love…

Eric: The Epilogue

I guess it will always be the Year-that-Eric-got-cancer, and it’s been a long rough-patch.  The days since March, 2015 have been fraught with temptation to fear, piled with prayers for mercy and healing, and full of gratitude as friends have shared our woes and lightened the burden.

Eric is Now (as of 6/23) not Just Cancer-Free, but Officially Finished with All his treatments.  That’s 17 rounds of chemotherapy, a rare adult who made it through All of the prescribed infusions.   That’s one surgery to remove 3 rays of his left foot with associated wound-healing complications.  That’s one bout of Sepsis following the final chemo treatment.  That’s 25 radiation treatments, burning his foot till it resembled Peking Duck and temporarily putting him back on crutches.  That’s about enough, isn’t it?

I want to use all of my eloquence to describe my son-in-law, but superlatives sound so shallow:  fantastic father!  great husband!  caring friend!   He is all of that and always has been, but adding !cancer survivor! misses the truth.  He was determined, often grimly, motivated by his daughters to stand up to whatever the cure required.  It has made him a deeper, stronger soul…

I’m reminded of these verses from the poem, Invictus by William Ernest Henley:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

I really think a celebration is in order.  Let’s get it started this Independence Day weekend—set off a bottle rocket, or light a sparkler, or maybe even throw one of those cherry bombs in Eric’s Honor.  Toast him with your favorite beverage!

You Really are a Rockstar, Eric! You did it!  It’s Over!  You are so loved and admired!

4/21/16

4/21/16

Introducing The Coach…

Last week’s circumstances left me somewhat disoriented and a whole lot exhausted.  By the time I had caught my breath, we were doing a walk-around the Coach, writing the check, and pulling it home.  Spontaneous little devils that we are, we loaded up a few things and took it up to Harmonie.  We learned a lot:  how to level it, that the furnace works great, not all Harmonie sites have water hook-ups, they don’t fill your water tanks before you leave the buying-place, and winds that gust to 60mph make you rock even though the Coach doesn’t actually move.  We stayed Friday and Saturday, then brought it home and set it up outside…

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The Jrs. came by to inspect…

I’ve seen my doctor and dentist this week, and though they are fine people, that’s enough of them for a while.  Casey has worked overtime and will have tomorrow off, but we need to stay home and mow the dang lawn…and fix the car.  Turns out, it is something Casey can fix–a thermostat–so we’ll be ready to roll about the same time as the weather decides to warm up.  Yay!

I always pick up Olivia from school on Thursdays, take her to her piano lesson and back home (with a little treat, of course).  Generally, we head out to Hacienda to nurse some margaritas and munch, and that’s what’s on the agenda for tonight.

Hang in there, it Really is Spring..!

Let the February Festivities Begin…

I was so glad to rip away the calendar page of January…too much down-time, if ya ask me…

February is my birthday month, and this is the first year I will celebrate with Samantha—she will be 1-year-old the day before I turn 63-years-old.  I like the number 63, especially the fact that it occurs the same year that we celebrate 36 years of marriage, and in 2016, another number evenly divisible by 3.  It seems a sign of magical adventures ahead.

That perky little observance aside, this getting old stuff sucks.

i thought growing old

I seem to sag more every day.  My skin in winter is like a dry sponge and my hair looks like I’ve touched a Van de Graaff generator.   Thank the gods for leggings and long sweaters,  warm scarves and cute hats.  We’ll make the best of it, you can bet.

There’s all kind of upcoming fun:  groundhog day, an antique book show, mardi gras, the orchid show at the Zoo, a play at UE, and all those birthdays.  Who’s up for lunch, out there?  We’ve got that Leap Day to enjoy, so leave me a note and we’ll plan some feasting.

Oh, how do you like my new computer?  Sleek, eh?

Tomorrow, be on the look-out for the MadWoman… she’ll be raving, I’m sure…