Next project

I have FINALLY finished the work on Marley & Me for the Readers Radio (I think that's what it's called). Gadzooks, what a loonngg process! You cannot imagine how boring it is to listen to yourself over and over and over and over. This is the best-edited work I've done and it came out alright.

Now I have to write the final report for the grant I did the application for; this is a completely different organization from the Readers Radio. My interest is flagging because I'm butting up against an ego that's pretty big and I'm not sure I'm interested in continuing. Meanwhile, I've just become treasurer and the organization has operating funds of nearly $20K, so I can't back out. I'll do my three years and then I'm out, I'm pretty sure.

Other projects: a polar fleece outfit for Courtney; Dots (candies) pj's for Kaitlyn--very cute fabric, a bed jacket for me (although I don't read in bed a lot recently--maybe I'll take it up again if I can be warm). Then it'll be off to Florida. Yay!

I'm all done with Borders and that's good. I'm really uncertain if I'll do it again next year. It surely isn't for the money, and this year it was a bit odd: I was assigned to the calendar kiosk almost all the time--probably because I could be relied upon to come in early enough to open (7:30 was a bit rough, but I did come in reliably)--and that is a one-person operation. Both good and bad: totally on my own, good, but no one to talk to and no way to sit down for hours, not so much. Luckily they got a cushion-y rubber mat to stand on or my feet/legs would've given out. Today was my last day, and I'm very okay with that.

Going to bed; it's 2 a.m. and that's tooooooo late. That editing kept me going until now; 1 1/2 hr. break at dinner but I've been at this since 4 p.m. Egad.

G'nite.

Just today

I worked my penultimate day at Borders today. I was assigned to the calendar kiosk again today. I just can’t think of the word I want; it wasn’t “assigned,” but rather the word that connotes being banished, because the kiosk is a one-person realm and it is so boring it’s almost beyond belief. Even when the sales are steady, there is no one to talk to in between customers (or in brief asides afterward), so I arrange the calendars and rearrange them and straighten them and ignore them, and work an NYTimes Sunday crossword or double acrostic puzzle. Truly really boring.

But I get to text Jenny, the only person I know who is able to receive/read texts while I’m at work too. And I feel like a teenager when I text, so it’s fun for me. But only one day left means that I probably won’t think to text Jenny during the day. Maybe.

I’m in a great frame of mind tonight and I think it’s because I only have one day left at Borders. I remember it feeling like this last year. It’s pretty wise of myself, I’m thinking, to set Dec. 31 as my end date. I look forward to New Year’s Eve for several reasons as a result!

Which brings me to a whine. Bruce does not like New Year’s Eve. He hates the idea of drunks out on the road and is really negative about the night as a result. I don’t probe too deeply as to why it is such an anathema. But we don’t even go to a friend’s, so why is it such a problem? I gave him a bit of a hassle about this tonight. I usually buy a split of champagne—even on New Year’s Eve he won’t drink more than a swallow or two, and we are already home, for crissakes! I’ll buy the split again this year, but … yippee. Oh, yeah, I should constrain my enthusiasm. You get the point.

So positive things, positive things. Our trip to Florida is not all that far away now. The worst of winter is beginning—the snow today was very wet and heavy but not too deep. And the idea of not being here for the end of the misery is so attractive; I’ll definitely live through the interim!

So I’ll be around. Good night.

Quiet Christmas

It’s about 7 p.m. on Christmas and I’m relaxing with a nice big glass of merlot. We just finished a dinner of ham, mashed rosemary potatoes, corn, fresh fruit salad, whole wheat rolls, and key lime cheesecake. Delish. The dessert is a little non-traditional, I realize, but who the hell says I have to follow someone else’s traditions? Bruce will eat whatever whenever so tradition means little around here. And most of the time, I don’t mind that. When I do mind, I follow whatever tradition I need. It works.

Talking to my daughters was a delight today. Of course, I wish I could see them in the flesh but I do, just at a different time of the year. And if I pause long enough to stop mental whining and think about it, that means I have Christmases at those other times. The visits—here or there—are always gifts for me. I haven’t yet talked to my stepdaughters, but I’m guessing they’ll call tonight.

Tomorrow I’ll really have to apply myself to my editing. I’m at a point that I really dislike: I have to make all the tapes that I’ve already edited down from their original 30 min. recording time into 55-minute episodes that include a 45-second break, and wind up with an even number of episodes, if at all possible. So I experimented a bit with “deleting silence” in them, but I don’t know enough about the settings so that resulted in silences between sentences being eliminated, but not necessarily those betweeen phrases. Aargh. So I’m listening to the last tape ( I fervently hope) that I have to add silences to. (And I want NO snotty thoughts about the difficulty of adding silences to Carla. Clear?) Listening to myself is eternally boring (this means I’m learning what YOU have lived through all these years; you have my deepest sympathy!) but it’s absolutely necessary. And I guess it’s not such a bad idea to listen to the episodes before I turn them in, something I haven’t done in the past; I’ve managed to catch at least 5 places where I’d somehow left in the “read again” comment I make when I know I’ve made an error. So while it’s very tedious, the process means I’ll get a quality product, one I really will be proud of.

Christmas was kind of a non-event here this year. I decorated and we have a tree and all, but my seasonal cheer was at probably an all-time low. I don’t think I’m depressed or anything. I just had to hear canned Christmas music for far too long. And the stint at Borders left me by myself in the calendar kiosk: no one to make snide cracks to or to hear about their college life from. I don’t think I’ll do Borders next year and I’m guessing I’ll feel a lot more like Christmas.

But I received some nice gifts, and I do have the love of my family and friends. I hope your Christmas was as good as mine.

New computer

Well Merry Christmas to myself. I just got a new computer, a big, heavy laptop that has not too many bells & whistles. I got it mainly to take to Florida in March and therefore I got one big enough for Bruce to use. He says he doesn’t plan to go online at all while we’re in the Sunshine State, but he’s so used to spending pretty much his whole morning at the computer: on his “board” (an amazingly active bulletin board for fly rod fanatics) and eBay. I spend far less time connected than he does!

So this is a Dell Inspiron 1750. I wanted a 1720 but they were unavailable … anywhere, even at Dell. This cost the same and has a bigger screen. Nice for the graphics quality but it makes for a BIG laptop! It also has Windows 7 which seems, so far at least, to be an actual improvement to XP. This blog, for example, is one of the options on the dock (yes, it copied that from the Mac), which means I may actually write here more often.

For those who suggested I get a Mac, you’re probably right. But the one program I hope to use portably is my editing program for the audio tapes I make for the vision impaired. I would have had to buy the entire program in a Mac version and even then my tapes would probably not be compatible with those at the recording studio, which is all pc. So I’m sticking with Bill (Gates, that is).

I’m not going to write much more. I would like to get into the habit of writing here. And if it remains sporadic, I’d like to get to the less than widely-scattered-sporadic level, whatever that may be. Irregular, maybe?

So Merry Christmas to all who read this. It’s almost 3 p.m. on Christmas Eve. I hope your heart is happy.

Been Awhile

So I haven't been here for awhile. I'm not sure I can say I've been busy. It seems that the very short posts on Facebook have taken precedence. That's actually not good. They embody the "sound bite" idea and discourage people from really spending time expressing themselves. I think they might be competing with Twitter, although I've never been to or looked at Twitter, so I could be entirely wrong. Anyway, the sound bite seems to be replacing the paragraph in just casual online writing and that is definitely less than good. So anyway, I'm back.

One of the reasons for my presence is that I had an interesting conversation a few days ago. An acquaintance who I hadn't seen in a long time asked what I'd been doing the last little while (i.e., a year) and I had to stop to think. I realized that what I'd done for most of 2009 is be ... a full-time mom. I was a full-time mom for one year, the 1st year in P'burgh, but otherwise was working full-time and mom-ing the rest of the time. I went to half-time from '82-'85, so I was with the girls much more of the time, but never home full time except for that one year. And then again in 2009. And this time I have 4 girls to deal with: 2 stepdaughters in addition to my 2 daughters. There were cases of depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder, pregnancy-induced hormones, emergencies of abrupt closings of homes, situations of NOT closing on homes, major moves across country, emotional crises, fallout of some of the above, etc. Think of that "etc." as in the King & I, with Yul Brenner saying, "Et cet-era, et cet-era, et cet-era." So now I don't feel so guilty about what I've "accomplished" in the last year.

What people who are working don't realize is that a life does not depend on what you "accomplish" in a year. Retired people begin to understand that "production" is not necessary. It was a slow realization for me. (I'm guessing this is true for others.) But I now know that my life is not lived in an ant colony where not producing means elimination. I "accomplish" things by devoting my time to helping a child--or step-child--get through a momentary situation where I truly can contribute. I can contribute time doing something or time listening and counseling. What's neat is that I don't care whether the girls take my advice or not. They're all adults. They make their own decisions. I can give them advice from my age-superior vantage point. But my life experience doesn't match theirs, so my advice may not obtain.

So anyway, realizing that made me feel much better. I really haven't "done" much. I haven't added to my garden, I only adjusted; I haven't created a lot of pieces either sewing or doing x-stitch, but my hands can't take a lot and I've learned to accept that; I started with the Oratorio--now Champlain Valley Voices--but couldn't perform at the concert because I missed too many rehearsals, but I'm becoming the Treasurer so there. It's been a full year even if I don't have a lot to put on paper about it.

Enough philosophizing.

More Nova Scotia thoughts, etc.

These are the things I wrote down while in Cape Breton. They're not in chronological order or any kind of order for that matter. Just things that caught my mind.

* Road signs in Maine, two yellow diamonds--top large, bottom significantly smaller.

Main St. Closed
Use other end

* Wolf spider on my arm in the kitchen. Hairy kind. I brush it off and it drops on a web rather than just falling off. Hard time disconnecting it from my sleeve. I thought of Jenny.

* Three-day trip from Cadyville because of a blown alternator only 160.7 miles after starting. Amazing luck finding another alternator for Bruce's 1988 van, our transportation mode. (Don't get me started on that.)

* Half of 30-mile stretch on "grooved pavement" (read: blacktop removed and nothing put back yet). No line markings. Driven at night, valiantly, by Bruce with me white-knuckling for him. That van has headlights like candles--and he says so.

* Carmel (Bruce's friend, a terrific Cape Bretoner of Irish heritage): "One night I took an unbearable pain."
And about one of her brothers (I think she said she comes from 13): "If he wants to shovel his dirt outside he'll just have to ...." I can't remember the rest of the phrase.

I love to listen to her talk; her regionalisms are all new to me and so interesting, as is she.

* Mackerel fishing--caught about 14, kept 9. (This was the first day I fished.)
Beautiful fish: fast silver flash in the water, mottled blue and green on top with irregularly-shaped black stripes.

* Cluster flies. Aargh. Using a shop vac to suck them up makes me feel like Darth Vader with a light sword.

* I opened fridge and went to get butter out of the door compartment. There was a (non-hairy) wolf spider on the compartment door! (I figured out later that the spider probably got there when the fridge had the door propped open since J&S had closed the place for the winter.)

* Eagle flying overhead as I walked along the North River with the dog. The eagle was harassed by a very brave crow but it scared a murder of crows from their roosts anyway.

* Moose poop on the road about 100' from the driveway. Looked fresh ... and it looked just like the candy called "moose poop."

* Caught 12 mackerel today. Some were pretty big!

* I must be into poop: bear poop about 100' from the house today. It's definitely fresh, most likely from earlier this a.m. I'm glad we're on our way out!

And now I learn that no one develops 35mm film locally. I dropped the film at Walmart and will be able to get the prints in ... Friday of next week? So maybe pictures then.

Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

I'm an A-One Mackerel Fisherperson, according to Bruce. That was our main fun on this trip to Cape Breton. I'm hoping Bruce got a good photo of me holding one of the many mackerel I caught (12 one day!). But since our camera broke right before we left I have no digital photos and the 2 cameras we did have use 35mm film which I'll take to get developed tomorrow. It appears that Target is the only place left in my little town that works with film. Geez. So we'll see...

Meanwhile, Cape Breton is still its beautiful self. Probably the best feature of the island is its people, all of whom are friendly and (like most Canadians) so polite. We stayed at our friends' house, John & Sue, on the southeast side of the island. They live in P'burgh but have bought the place in N.S. as a summer place. I do not know of anyone else who would choose Plattsburgh as their winter place! And I compare it to being at camp. (For any non-NY/Eastern U.S. readers, a "camp" here is much like a "cottage" elsewhere but it doesn't have to have waterfrontage.) There's running water, which means a flush toilet, and electricity--unlike the camp I used to have in the Adirondacks. Heat comes from a kerosene heater and I'm somewhat allergic to the fumes, i.e., headaches. But it can be quite cozy when the weather is typical Scottish weather, meaning cold mist/drizzle/rain, and that was what we had for several days this time. (Bruce goes up every year and the only other time I've gone along was 2 yrs. ago.)

I do have to tell you about mackerel, though. First, they're a lot of fun to catch. I don't fly fish--Bruce is an expert and I get all tensed up about doing it right, even though HE doesn't care--but I've done spin casting pretty much forever and what's handy about mackerel is that they won't hit a fly for love or money but give 'em a 1-oz. lure and they're hooked! They hit nicely and then fight, swimming hard back and forth to try to shake the hook. When you pull them in they manage to unhook themselves pretty regularly, which makes it easier on the person(s) in your party who are willing to get slimed and covered with scales. Bruce volunteered so that I could just catch fish and it was a ton of fun.

Then, mackerel are beautiful. I don't think this photo really does justice to how pretty they are. Apparently they get more color as they're out of water for awhile; I know that looking down into the bucket I saw gorgeous cloudy mottling of blue and green. The irregular black stripes just add to their camouflage from above--it must outwit eagle-eyed eagles, I'm sure. And we did see eagles. Anyway, when you catch a mackerel, it flashes in the surf just beautifully--it is solid bright shiny silver from its midline down, so you feel like you're landing a sterling silver fish. They are pretty oily so it's not a fish I'm willing to cook indoors, but they're tasty so I'll keep one package of fillets and grill them. The rest go to John & Sue; they usually bring home up to 75-80 fillets but John was ill and couldn't fish this year.

Oh, for you fisherpeople? I did say 1-oz. lure. Actually the guys--mostly old farts--around me were all using 2-oz. lures but my rod couldn't handle that, Bruce said. And I probably would've dislocated something casting with something that heavy. But one guy told me that my 1-oz. was okay because the fish were being caught as close in as I was casting--the 2-oz. guys had to do a lot more reeling! So I did have fun.

But Bruce didn't get to fish very much. His targets are wild Atlantic salmon and Cape Breton is one of the few places left in the world where those fish come every year. Not so many, anymore, but they do come back. But with the rain, and then winds, his rivers were pretty much unfishable. We did go to "the other side of the island," to the Margaree River, world renowned for its salmon but he didn't fish it. It was a disappointing trip for him. And the ride home (it's 850 miles each way) was L O N G.

I'll try to get some photos to add to this--if they turn out, I'll edit this and add them in a few days. I'd like to go back to go all the way around the island again, and spend some time on the N.S. mainland too, in Halifax and Digby, etc. This trip is sort of a "working" trip for Bruce: fishing is what he's there to do so touristing around doesn't happen much. Maybe in a few years I'll go back; I told Bruce he's like the salmon. Every year he says this is his last year for the trip, but Cape Breton waters just call him back again and again.

Whew!

Boy, has this been a summer! These are things that made it into photos, or at least onto my calendar so I wouldn't forget to be somewhere at a particular time. (Y'gotta LOVE retirement.)

In June I gave what I thought was my last workshop, only to get a booking for May 2010. Sweet. June was also "Fireman's Day" in beautiful downtown Cadyville (which has only a post office and (volunteer) fire station--we don't even have a bar!) with parade and good food.



In July, my sister came to visit and we played touristas to places I'd either never been or hadn't been for years. Here's Alice at the Montreal Botanical Gardens. What a great visit.



Shortly thereafter I was in Omaha for a family emergency. No photos of that. Toward the end of the month Bruce & I went to Fort Ticonderoga, a trip he'd never made and I hadn't since my kids were about 9 & 10. (That would be about 20 years. Sigh.)



In August, both my daughters and both granddaughters came for a visit. Jenny isn't in this photo, but she stayed at her dad's so I didn't get many pictures of/with her.



In September, Bruce & I went to the NY State Fair in Syracuse. That was really fun, and another thing to cross off our bucket list. The photos below show the sand sculpture of the USS New York, apparently a trademark at the fair; Bruce with one of the huge warmblood horses in its stall; a small part of the miniature circus displays that just fascinated me; and a sort of overview of the fairgrounds.






Right after that there was the "Battle of Plattsburgh" quadricentennial celebration, with a re-enactment of the famous battle on Lake Champlain (in absolutely tiny and fragile-looking wooden boats), a period 18th century tavern, a big parade--for once--and fireworks. Quite the do for Plattsburgh. These are some of the re-enactors.




I also went to Tampa in September to babysit for the aforementioned grandgirls for 7 days & nights (that would be a whole week). Babysitting was just about what I'd expected. Only more tiring. Having been a working mom, I'd never really spent all day every day with the girls when they were babies. The first year in Plattsburgh, when I was home full-time, Emily was 3 & Jenny (who was too young then to vote against my desired Jennie spelling) was 18 mos., turning 2 midway through that year. So while I had one in diapers, she was mobile. Emily's house is two storeys as compared to my one-level and my knees got a real workout on the stairs! I actually got good a carseat straps and by the time I left I was getting Katie into hers without bumping her head ... or mine. The van with all the bells and whistles was nice, especially the start-before-you-get-to-it feature so the air conditioning was already working when I buckled up the girls. In 90+ degrees, that was a godsend. And so was the swimming pool! Everybody cooled off after a hot afternoon and everybody also got good and tired so bedtimes were a snap! I actually enjoyed myself but am considering the next job--I'm not so sure I'm up for a full week again. After all, we'll ALL be a year older then! But how could you not have a great time with this?




And now I'm packing to go to Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, for two weeks.
No kids involved. Unless you count the dog. This is what it should look like again--the photo is from Oct. 2007.

It might get a little tedious when Bruce is gone fishing every day, but this year there are some other Plattsburgh women there with their husbands and I've been invited to join them for some day trips. That should be fun.

I think I'm ready for a do-nothing November!

Low Night

I'm feeling very fat tonight. Yes, I know I'm loved and liked and appreciated. But that doesn't take away the fact that I feel fat tonight. And last night. And today. And I know I'm not obese. But I want to lose 20 lbs, need to lose 20 lbs. (My doctor: "You're overweight.") And I've upped my exercise--I'm either walking or at the gym doing strength training 6 days out of 7 most weeks.

But I have to eat far less than I do. And I really don't want to do that. I know it's under my control and that no one can do it for me. But I thought I was doing most things in moderation. Apparently not.

And I cook for my husband, who can barely boil water without written instructions, each step numbered. I do make healthy meals; I just eat too much of them. I'm going to have to start using a sandwich plate at dinner. Boy, that sounds really exciting. I could go back on the South Beach Diet. That worked for me and I still lean that way, staying away from starchy carbs. Getting back off the sweet things again is clearly necessary.

See? I know what I need to do. I'm trying to find a way to do it. First rule has to be NPO from after dinner on. Except for water or diet soda.

Okay. Done whining for tonight.

Best news of the day? I'm not hungry right now. And next time I'll post about our State Fair trip. With pictures.

Meditative

I'm up late, having had two martinis and a bit of gin with the left over Mountain Dew that I bought for Jenny, and I watched the video Pete made for the grandparents. I just have to put down my feelings about this and the other ideas it engendered.

I am amazed at how beautiful the feelings of grandparenting are. Our best friend John (Bruce's fishing partner/pseudo-brother) became the grandfather of twin boys this morning--adding to his two + 1 step- grandchildren. He called us this morning, as excited as any parent! This, and watching the video (see below) have pushed me into thinking about generations.

I watched the excellent video Pete constructed from home videos. It included visits to the zoo & the beach, and also just regular weekends around the house. I thought about how much this would have been appreciated by MY mom, or MY mom's mom. She was the bold one, the one to leave the family acreage--that was gone when her family moved into Milwaukee from the rural "suburbs" of the '30s. When she & Daddy moved to Marshfield, her sibs thought she'd moved north of north. And while I'm sure she wrote faithfully, her sibs saw her on the annual (?) trips from Marshfield to Milwaukee that I remember. I doubt that it was every summer. I remember a few. And my experience mirrors hers, I realize just now, in that her husband's family came before hers always. Hence my multitudinous trips to Austin/Faribault, MN as compared to the almost non-existent trips to Marshfield, WI.

So I watched the video tonight. I'm so grateful that Pete has this skill! I've been lucky in my ability to "bop down" to Tampa so easily. I've been able to be a part of my granddaughters' development, and will try to continue it. But I know that it'll take effort on my part. My mom is a terrific role model for this: She came whenever I asked her--it wasn't often but when I asked I really needed her. And she didn't agonize over watching my two little ones by herself for 3-4 days. She survived the coldest winter on record in Plattsburgh; her 70th birthday in Plattsburgh while Chuck & I were in England; the H.S. graduations of two girls--she was there for both.

So I'm really looking forward to being "the one" for Kaitlyn and Courtney in September for about 10 days. And their parents can count on me to deal with whatever comes up and to savor every moment, as they'll be savoring theirs. This is the way to grandparent in the 21st century: The grandkids may not be just down the street, but they're only a flight away. I actually can't wait for this opportunity!

Visit

It was terrific to see both of my great daughters and then my two adorable granddaughters in one visit. I'm sure it was hectic for Emily--I remember doing those visits all summer long, schlepping all the STUFF that little kids need. The fact that Jenny was there to help with boarding and exiting the planes must have been a huge positive factor. I'm so glad that worked out for them both.

And the babies? What can I say. I'm sure that everyone who reads this blog has already seen the photos on my Facebook page (but I'll put one or two here anyway :P !) so you all know how really gorgeous those girls are. And if they're pretty to you, just think of how incredibly beautiful a doting Mimi thinks they are! They're as different as day and night, at least so far, much like my two were. And Emily is sick to death of my comparisons to her childhood but the similarities are inescapable for me. Kaitlyn is super-energetic, on the go all the time, and as bright as any smart little two-year-old can possibly be.


Her command of language is great and conversations with her are really fun. She's constantly adding words and expressions to her vocabulary, and her body language, when she imitates her mom especially, is a hoot!

Courtney is just so happy to be alive. She wakes up this way: open eyes, smile.


She's a terrifically engaged baby, intensely interacting with whatever it is that's interested her--the nearest person, her hanging toys, the toy she's working towards when she's on her tummy, whatever. When you talk to her, she's right there. She would be the perfect baby to star in a remake of "Look Who's Talking." You can actually see her thinking up her response ... and sometimes getting frustrated that she can't say the words! But a non-fusser for the most part.

The weather was horrible during their visit: 80s-90 with accompanying humidity, and of course few homes in the North Country have air conditioning, mine or their dad's included. AND to add insult to injury, he filled in his swimming pool last year! Of course it was the adults who were affected; the little kids just took it in stride. We just had to go to the park in the a.m. before the equipment got too hot to play on ... and then had to take a towel on the 2d morning because we had to wipe off the dew. The slides looked like they'd been under sprinklers.

My girls got to see some friends but I'm appreciative of the fact that this visit was more about family than friends. I wish I could have a photo or two of the three of us but that was just lost in the shuffle.



It was so nice, just so nice to have them both here at the same time, given that they're so far apart from each other and from me and Bruce. (And both little girls loved Bruce. He wasn't quite sure how to take that and I bonked him on the head--not really--and said they were his granddaughters too because he's married to me!) I'm not sure we'll have the chance for any more visits of this kind but I'd love to have the girls' spouses with them the next time. Maybe when I'm old and (ALL) gray!

And after everything was returned to the people we borrowed things from, and all the things we're keeping are stored away--tub toys, chalkboard, tiny table & chairs, I walked into my bedroom and saw this forlorn binky on my dresser. So I know they were here......

Downpour

It rained amazingly hard here last evening--looks like we got 2" in about an hour! And I didn't see or hear most of it, including apparently walloppingly loud thunder with lightning (Bruce said there was one where the flash and bang were absolutely simultaneous) because I was reading at the TV station in a studio that is obviously soundproof! The storm knocked the local NBC station off the air, ironically during the weather report. :) Bruce said that our front lawn was under water, something he had never seen in his 43 years in this house. WOW. But our basement stayed dry. I guess there was a small puddle below the take-out door to the chimney/fireplace because the rain had been driven down the chimney, and we have a cap on it to keep out critters! I didn't see any major damage on my walk this morning but there was a helicopter that I think was NYSEG's (NYS Elec. & Gas) checking the power lines for downed trees. I'm thinking our ground is now so totally saturated that any kind of wind will start pushing trees over because their roots are basically in mud. And because it's heating up outside right now, there will probably be thunderstorms later today. (I took this photo today; it's actually clouds across the lake where it's probably raining like crazy somewhere in VT.)

But as I sit here looking out my window, my garden is pretty ... and lush! Probably more greenery than usual but the flowers haven't done too badly, considering that during the months of June & July they were severely sun-deprived. I just wish there would be a few of the really pretty ones in flower next week when my daughters are here. Oh, well, if wishes were horses ....

A Bucket List?

I'm afraid that Bruce has a bucket list in his head, you know, the list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket. We're doing some things that he hasn't done in his 40+ years in New York. (But I really don't believe he's thinking of things that way--he's good for a whole lot more years! Absolutely.)

A year or two ago we went to Parc Safari, a zoo/amusement park just above the border in Canada--about 30 minutes from here. That was a lot of fun. It's a drive-through safari place with large animals wandering free among the traffic (as in automobiles, no pedestrians!).

(I have a close shot of a zebra but you can't tell it was in the road so we'll make do with a "common" elk.) ANYway, we had a great time.

There were lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Really. The day was beastly hot and the carnivorous animals were all just lying and panting, but if it had been nicer there's a chance that the lions and tigers would have been walking over our heads as we walked through a (heavy-duty, I hope) Plexiglas walkway.

This picture was taken through that Plexiglas.

So that was in 2007, I think.

This year we went to Fort Ticonderoga, a fort built before the Revolutionary War, used through that war and then abandoned. It fell into complete ruin. In the early 19th century a wealthy man--Pell--bought it and began to rebuild it. It's now mostly reconstructed and impressive! It's a star-shaped fort --very neat design--and its historical organization has managed to greatly expand Pell's original collections of artifacts, Revolutionary and French & Indian Wars' weaponry, etc.

There was an adorable fife and drum corps (comprised of high school students working it as a summer job) and I took this video. I wanted them to turn about and march a bit but my batteries ran out before I could get they did. Rats.



I apologize for the pounding noise but it was a very windy day. In fact, immediately after the corps marched off the parade grounds it began to rain. It was a thunderstorm that then chased us pretty much all the way home--1 1/2 hours north. And while it was really fun to travel in Bruce's Audi TT, we discovered that the air conditioner wasn't working properly and wwe couldn't use it as a defroster. So we drove with the windows just slightly open, trying to stay un-fogged AND dry. But what a neat day that turned out to be. Bruce said he was really glad he went!

In the beginning of September we're going to the NY State Fair in Syracuse. I'll have a post after that for sure.

Nice Visit

My sister, Alice, visited me for a few days this week. We had a great time. It was like when I first moved to Plattsburgh and I had all my family come to visit because none of us had ever had someone living in the East before. I actually thought of where I'd moved as the East Coast, but was embarrassed by some people when I said that at a luncheon in the first month I lived here. I learned then the Coast is actually about 5 hours further east. Hey, to a Midwesterner, this is STILL the East Coast!

ANYway, we toured about a bit. Friday we went to The Wild Center, a.k.a. the Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks, in Tupper Lake. That's about 75 miles from here, and we went on a rainy day (which has been pretty much every day so far). It's a very cool science-and-nature place, and the main building is a really beautiful piece of architecture. Probably the most popular exhibit is the otter enclosure where you can see the 2 otters playing underwater as well as above. They are so cute! I tried to copy and paste the logo for the place, which is an otter done in a sort of modern American Indian style, but I can't lift it. You'll just have to check out that link.

On Saturday we hung around Plattsburgh. We went to the totally disappointing and cheesy 4th of July parade. And we didn't go to the fireworks because it was too cold and rainy. Yuck.

Sunday was much better, with our trip to Saratoga Springs turning out well. The town is chock full of Victorian mansions, and I do mean mansions. The one I know for sure is occupied for a time every summer is the Whitney home, as in the money-dripping-out-their-ears Whitneys. They come for the Travers Stakes thoroughbred race at the track in August, and every few years someone breaks into their house while they're at the track and steals hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of jewelry. It's happened at least once, and I think twice, since I've lived out here. I forgot to take my camera along and I'm really sorry about that because I can't find a place that shows a photo of even one or two of those houses. They're gorgeous. We went to Yaddo, a place located just next to the racetrack and something Alice wanted to see. It's a retreat for artists of various ilk and she'd read that the writer John Cheever had been there a lot. So we went, but the HUGE house (former home of the Spencer Trask family) isn't open to the public. The rose garden is and we went to see that. Lovely but in sad disrepair. It needs about 3 full-time gardners to get it into shape. I'll bet it was stunning when it was cared for. Do look at the link; the house is not at all out of place in that town!


Monday it was the Montreal Jardins Botaniques--Botanical Gardens in downtown Montreal. Only about a 35-min. wait to cross the border (sigh). The gardens are in full bloom now and talk about well cared for! The place is just beautiful. And so much bigger and better than it was when I first went about 28-29 years ago. The tickets are not expensive and we spent a good day there--arrived about 11:30 and left at about 4, and saw maybe ... a third? half? Definitely not all of it.

This photo is of a pagoda in the Chinese Gardens, one of the loveliest areas. The last time I was here there were Asian wedding couples everywhere, brides running in their gowns, grooms trying to stay neat and pressed in oppressive heat. This time it was just tourists--it was a Monday, after all.


Alice went back to Wisconsin on Tuesday. I miss her. We had a great time and went places I only go when there are people here. (So it'll be years before I go again!)

Age and Grace

About a week ago I was doing my lunges at the gym and they are hard! I was holding a 10 lb. dumbbell in each hand (I've always had strong arms and legs). On the last lunge I stepped forward and genuflected on my very tired legs, and in getting up I started coming back with my forward foot too fast. My legs were so tired that I couldn't straighten out the stationary one at all. I started going backwards and the dumbbells continued that motion. I was falling backwards in slo-mo and I couldn't stop! I couldn't pick my foot up fast enough to get my balance back. I'm sure I could have stopped the backward motion had I just dropped the dumbbells, but no way was I going to do that! The floor is elevated in the weights area and sort of hollow so that when a weight is dropped it almost gongs loud and low--VERY! Anyone who doesn't have earbugs in turns to look and I absolutely couldn't have that. So I grimly clung to the dumbbells and managed to stop myself from landing flat on my back--it was more a very, VERY deep genuflection with a backwards slant. I let go of the weights the nanosecond they touched the floor so it wasn't a complete disaster. And I didn't hurt anything!

Even when it happened I thought it was funny and I can only imagine what it looked like. I would love to have seen film footage.....

Before ...

The family is starting our own Biggest Loser in July. I'm really ready for this. I absolutely need to lose more weight than I ever have in my life and the idea of my own support group is terrific. So I'm going to submit this as my before picture:



Actually, it's an "after" picture, as in "after 11 years." The car is my 2d Beetle (get over the "New" already! They've now been around 11 years!!) and while I loved my blue one, it was time to get a newer one. The color is much more sedate, which I'm not thrilled about. But it's a 2006 and only has 28K miles, so I was willing to take it, especially since the interior (black leather, very sexy) looks like it was driven by someone with no corporeal body. (I might just have used that word redundantly, but you know what I mean!) And it has an Audi engine with a lot of kick. So I really do like it. It'll take a little time to learn to love it, though, sort of like a pre-arranged marriage.

I'm in the house writing this because it's not nice out ... again. At least it's getting warmer, but everything is so wet. If we got a major wind, all the trees would fall over because the ground they're in wouldn't hold 'em. But as I look out my den window, I see my beautiful blue Siberian irises, and the white Siberians, too. Some bearded tongue is beginning to flower, and I realize I have to deadhead my cornflowers. Ah, summer.

And thinking of winter (nice segue, don't you think?), we're going to do a one-month snowbird experiment. For the month of March we'll be living in Crystal River, FL, with the dog and the cat. We had to have a pet-friendly place. I'm just glad the landlords didn't ask to meet the animals; Holly the dog is about 90 lbs. But both she & Susie the cat are older (almost 11 and 14 respectively) so they shouldn't be a problem. I'm very excited about this, because March is usually a miserable month here. Woohoo!

I guess I'll scan some more photos today. My endgoal is to scan all my pictures so I won't leave my daughters a million photos to sort through ... or not. I think they'll especially like our List family photos; there are such great memories. So Carla, stop blathering! Hitch up the scanner and get going. Okay. Okay!

You Should Live Here ... Really!

I've uploaded a very short video of our dam--Bruce really does think of it as his property and gets possessive when he sees other people walking their dogs on hisproperty! The video shows only one section of the dam, and I've watched that tree in the middle grow from a pretty small, scrappy little rock-clinger to a tree that's just full of itself. ;)

Yesterday was our only summer day so far. So I'm sharing.



Don't you just love the sound?

I'll put a pan of the whole dam below. Because I don't know when I'll get another day like yesterday. Last night I had to close all the windows again and the temp today, at almost noon, is 58, which was forecast as the high for today. (Okay, here comes the temper tantrum.) I'm sick of being cold! I want a week where I can leave the windows open overnight! I'd like that week to have no rain! My flowers aren't getting enough warmth and sunshine this year and it's making me very crabby! (End of rant.) So here's the video. Again, just the sound is so nice to my ears.

In Memoriam

My friend Tom died last night. He was the only male in our a cappella foursome, Eclectricity. He did almost all of our arrangements. He was a neat guy and I will miss him.

Tom's son died in early adolescence from muscular dystrophy and apparently that pretty much caused the break-up of his first marriage. But he married the only wife I've known, Jane, and she is one of the most remarkable women I'll ever meet. Their age difference is about the same as the gap between Bruce and me and we had interesting conversations about that. Both of us found so much better a man the second time around. And Tom adored her, couldn't have functioned without her. She saw him through to the end. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1998, I think, and had surgery. This was about 6 mos.-1 year before it was pronounced that most prostate cancers should just be left alone. Maybe things would be different if he'd gone to the doctor a year later; who knows. Tom had trouble from then on: bad after-effects from the surgery, the need for hormone treatments (we all complained about hot flashes together!), etc. About 3 yrs. ago Jane made one statement that the cancer had metastasized to his bones, and then we didn't hear about it at all. I guess he told Rachelle that denial could work wonders!

Tom & Jane moved to Florida, selling their beautiful house here, probably at a loss, and lived there for a year or two. But Jane hated it and they moved back here, in a smaller house--just as lovely. Tom had loved the personnel at the Moffitt Cancer Center at USF in Tampa, but transferred his treatment, which was apparently a little different from what was offered here, to the cancer center in Plattsburgh. And about six months ago he just got tired of it. He said he wanted to feel good once in awhile, instead of trying to survive the chemo and then getting "vacations" from it. So he said he'd let it go.

It went pretty quickly. He broke his neck, and I think that had already happened when Eclectricity got together for a group dinner in January. Tom and Jane were on the plane I was on in March when I returned from Tampa to Plattsburgh after Courtney was born; they had gone to visit Jane's father & stepmother. Jane said they'd spent the entire visit in the hospital because Tom was not doing too well. When the got on the plane to come home, Tom's broken neck disturbed the flight's captain and he kicked them off! Jane said she told that arrogant @*#&ole that she wouldn't risk her husband's well being but the idjit was adamant and they had to get off the plane. T(hey flew back the next day on a different airline.) It seemed to me that it went very quickly after that.

Eclectricity got together a few times at his house: about a month ago he could sort of sing with us, three weeks ago he made and effort but mostly listened, two weeks ago we sang around him, last week we sang to him, and yesterday in the hospital we sang to him again. I'm really glad we did that. Rachelle and Eileen, the other two Eclectricity women, said all the right stuff to him, I'm sure. I pretty much didn't say anything. He was completely oblivious, on a steady morphine drip to quell excruciating pain. But I didn't say anything. I wish I had.

Tom was funny. And he was a good friend. As Jane said, he was in love with all three of the Electricity women. I think he had adult ADD (not joking here) and it took awhile to get used to the fact that he started his sentences about 5 times before he completed them. His brain was already on to the next idea before his mouth could get out the first one. He could be a slave-driver about the music. But he had near-perfect pitch. He both hated and loved performing, and we women used to worry if he'd make it through any one number. But he always did, and I don't think the audience had a clue about nervousness. Our performances were pretty doggoned professional, I think. And fun. We rehearsed every week, almost always at Tom's, starting with a cup of tea (that was because of my addiction) and all our news. Sometimes it was hard to get to the singing part! But we did sing, and practiced and practiced and practiced. His beautiful baby grand piano got a workout, but mostly we sat around the kitchen table and sang. We have hand-written music for about 90% of what we sang, hand-written by Tom. He sang in Barbershoppers and he had another quartet--2 women and 2 men. But we three women were convinced he loved Eclectricity best.

He looked younger than he was and he had that beautiful, luxurious hair. When he lost it through chemo we all waited for it to grow back--he looked like Daddy Warbucks without it. And then when it did grow back there wasn't any gray in it still! Yesterday his crew cut was slicked down a little on his forehead and he looked like a little boy. An no wrinkles at 68.

So here's to Tom. Eclectricity was fabulous fun and I'll miss the singing tremendously. But mostly I'll miss Tom.

Good Day ... Mostly

I got my car today. I will, in the near future, post a pic of me with it, mimicking the photo I had Bruce take, almost exactly 11 years ago, of me with my first Beetle. Because this is my second Beetle. And it's not, sadly, blue. It's green. A very nice green, not the almost-chartreuse that's out now because it's a 2006, but a lovely, gentle green. With black leather (let's not go there) interior. Very sexy. Oh, I just got it. It's like me. Quiet on the outside, sexy on the inside. (That would be my very lame attempt at a joke. On myself.) But my first choice was blue. Second: pewter. And the fact that I wanted a manual transmission got me a green. How can anyone even say "Beetle" and "automatic" in the same sentence, for heaven's sake???

The reason I got a blue car when I got my first Beetle is that it was my first "divorce decision." That was the day I pretty much decided I would divorce my first husband. And I wanted a car that was so "not-Starla" that I picked a color I never would have before. And it was a gorgeous decision on many levels. The car looked like a jewel. Someone told me that. Honestly. I never wore blue. I wore green. But the green color wasn't available for at least a year and I wasn't willing to wait, not for just the color! So I picked "Bright Blue."

Then my hair started going seriously gray and blue "became" me. (As in, "That becomes you." I never did understand that comment. compliment?) And I have more blue in my wardrobe than I ever did before. Of course that means like one thing for summer and one for winter, but that's two more than in my previous life! And my blue Beetle did for me everything I needed it to do: It showed me I could make a decision alone that turned out to be a great decision. And my line at the time was that it made me feel as cute as it looked. It still does. It gave me a signature--people have said they're going to have to change their outlook to find me in a green Beetle! (And then when I un-hyphenate my name next year when my driver's license expires they'll have to adjust to that too!)

So now I'm green. I don't know how "green" this car is; I filled it today and will figure out the mileage when I fill next time. The old bluebaby really did average 30 mpg--28.5-31--so I was pretty happy. An acquaintance has a Honda hybrid that gets far better mileage, but ... it's not cute. And I've always been about appearances. You know that.

I will post that picture. I promise. But I just went to try to post pictures of my grandbabies and there's something wrong with that function. I think I'll just wait till next post and try again. Au revoir.

Mimi Time

I'm in Tampa and right this minute I'm babysitting Courtney, who's sound asleep and likely to stay that way until her mom & big sister get back from their errands. It's a tough job but I'll do it whenever asked! I'm here until Sunday, my visit a birthday gift from Pedro to Elise. We're all fast becoming true fans of Allegiant Air. Where else can you fly P'burgh<->Tampa for $29 each way? Well, $29 plus about a million "fees" added on but still, well under the $200 I used to think was the bargain basement. Even under the $158 I paid just once on some super sale.

Last night the temp hit 34 in Plattsburgh. (We broke a 42-yr. record one night last week when we hit 34. That's a record I don't like!) And now we did it again, although I'm not sure about the record this time. Aargh. We've tried so hard not to turn the furnace on after May 15, but have had to at least a couple of times; I think the last time was on May 31. Our house is actually a passive solar design--28" overhangs all around means that the winter sun, low in the sky, can shine in, but the spring/summer sun can't. That means in order to keep sweatshirts on their hangers IN JUNE, we turn the heat on in the early morning to get the house up to 68 because the sun can't accomplish this by 8 p.m. Then the furnace gets turned off again and we hope for a warmer night. When will this end? Our highs have only been in the 60s, once or twice into the 70s, with one freaky day at the end of April that it hit 90. Needless to say, I like this Florida visit!

And what beautiful grandgirls! Courtney is the essence of chill-baby, smiling, gurgling, eating, sleeping. No fussing that I've seen. And Kaitlyn is the opposite: on the go constantly, picking up nuances (typical first child), testing limits, trying to figure out if Mimi backs Mommy or caves to Katie. I'll be on my own with both of them tomorrow night as Pedro takes Elise out for dinner That actually should be fun for me.

I can't get over how much this grandmother thing agrees with me. Someone said that you learn about unconditional love when you become a grandparent and I thought, Oh, no, you love your own kids unconditionally. But it is different. When it's your own kids, you're helping them develop, helping them grow, teaching, learning. And while you love them unconditionally, they're still your job. When I became Mimi I discovered that it's just pure fun, pure love. I get to watch but not judge, to play without any goal outside of the moment. It is a blast. I'm hoping I get a boy grandchild at some point only because I want the opportunity to just watch. Having had only girls I'll be really interested in how it works with boys, and not have any responsibilites related to it!

Meanwhile Bruce is up in NY watching the Stanley Cup finals without me. I'll get to watch one game here after the girls are in bed on Saturday, and then will be home to share the yelling with him. That's fun too.

(Of course, when I'm home, there will be pictures to post!)

Cold!

Boy, is it cold here. My computer's desktop weather program says it's 39 ... and it feels like 31. This is May 31, folks. What's with 31? or even 39?? I worked in my garden earlier when it was more like April (except that it's nearly June) and then the temp dropped when huge black clouds moved in. Of course, they moved by with only a spattering of rain, pushed by impressive winds ... again. I've probably said this on this blog before, but years ago a science librarian told me that global warming wouldn't mean that Plattsburgh would become Miami, but rather that the weather would give us higher peaks and lower valleys, i.e., more extremes than before. And almost every year since I learned that, the fluctuations have become more severe. Right now, as I look out my den window toward the west, the sky is mottled gray and the wind is whipping. And I may have said this earlier, but gee whiz, it is almost June.

Of course, I remember the first few years after moving here from what was, in comparison, balmy Iowa. My girls were never in shorts before June. Looks like we're back to that system. Brrrr.

Just a short note; have to go to dinner with the people across the street, who have done us so many favors. It should be fun.

Facebook vs. the Blog

Boy, I don't think anyone is reading blogs these days. It's easier to post and read the short (and less introspective) entries on Facebook. I'm as guilty as anyone so I'm not sure if this is a complaint, really; rather, it's a somewhat sad statement of fact.

This is just to let you know that I do still read your blogs, and I promise I will try to write more often here.

We are such short-attention-span people. Sigh.

'Tis the Season

Peepers trill at night
Lilacs exhale their perfume
Open your windows
Well, that's my pathetic little attempt at haiku. It was brought on by my short trip home from the gym with my windows partly open (it's not that warm today!) and my car completely filled with the scent of lilacs in bloom--all the way from the edge of town to home. Glorious.

And two nights ago when it was warm enough for open windows, I got to hear the peepers in the pond in the woods behind the house.

So it IS spring. I thought I recognized the signs!

Unfortunately the photo doesn't catch the two soft pink columbine stems I cut from the plants outside my front door. They're hybrids and are really pretty. The black one should be in flower soon; it has nice blossoms. And my magnolia bush has a few floweres too--it's still pretty small. But I love the fact that someone who needed something so beautiful in this growing zone got down to business and hybridized a hardy magnolia. Take that, you Southerners! (AND we have spruce trees too. Flowering shrubs AND evergreens. Hmph. I'd like to see what you can put up to that!)

But on a much friendlier note, here's another of my favorites from the non-snow part of the year:



Dewdrops on hosta
(You can see it better if you look at a larger version of the picture.)
Just outside the porch door we've planted hostas. Almost every morning when I go out to get the paper, the leaves have big dew drops sparkling in the sunlight. It's just so pretty that it starts my mornings off well. They're big blue hosta and are really nice to have: very little care in return for lots of elegant greenery. Bruce is nuts about them and has planted varieties in a number of places. (I know we'll never compete with the Kruse Mfld garden but then again, we're not trying to.)

And my garden--well, I can see my creeping phlox in flower from here, providing a nice low backdrop for my small (but tough, tough, tough) flowering crabapple tree in full bloom. Those 1 1/2 - 2 hr. shots in the garden

I'm just so happy it's spring.

Kleibers in Texas

I went to a neat steak house in the teeny burg of Winchester, TX, on Friday night to celebrate the closing of Lana's home sale. The place was recommended by the guy who came to clean the carpets; he said he always made sure to take visitors there. The building had been something like a general store--a facade like you see in cowboy movies--and has been converted to a restaurant, and also houses the Post Office. Take a look: http://www.eatatmurphys.com/ (That door on the left in the picture on Murphy's home page is the Post Office.)

So anyway, there's what I thought was a neat display just inside the door of the restaurant that includes a section of old mail box doors, you know, the kind you have when you pick your mail up at the Post Office. Each one has a name on it. The first one I looked at, pointing at random and saying to Lana, "This is such a neat idea," had the names Tom (Tony? I don't remember) & Pat Kleiber. Well, Kleiber is my maiden name! And I'm from Wisconsin. And Kleiber just isn't as common as, say, Schmidt (or Schmitt or Schmit). So it was a real surprise! I knew there were Kleibers in Texas because when I was there in the '70s, there was an ad for a Kleiber auto dealership on a paper placemat in a restaurant somewhere down there. If I remember right, that restaurant was much closer or in the heavily German area--New Braunfels, et al.--and Winchester is between Austin and Houston. But it was so weird to hit that name on the first mailbox I saw! And then Lana said that that really was the Post Office! So apparently there are Kleibers in Winchester. I wonder if, but doubt that we're related.

But cool, no? And the steaks were pretty good. And the beer was great!

Ahhhh!

It is so good to be home. I didn't realize just how much I'd missed Bruce. And I forgot to mention last night that when we got homeI walked into the kitchen to discover a vase of pink alstromeria with a Welcome Home card from Bruce. Just how sweet is this man? Yup, about that sweet!

So I thought I'd let you know where my stepdaughter is now taking up residence. Here's the link to Oakhaven, a spectacular horse facility outside the city and half as long a commute for her as it had been to her ranch. Her apartment is in the smaller building on the left, a lovely 2-BR with 30' ceilings.


Here's the link to the Web site for the stables: http://oakhavenpartners.com/facility.html

My flights to and from were pretty uneventful except for the fact that JetBlue lost my luggage for awhile. I was paged at the baggage carousel when I arrived in Austin and told that my luggage had somehow missed the plane in Orlando that I had had to wait 3 hours for. I guess that time wasn't sufficient for my baggage handler to find it. But I refused to make Laura take me to the airport the next day to get the bag; it was supposed to arrive in the airport at 11:30 or so but I think it didn't get there till much later. So I was working working working in the clothes I'd flown in. Yuck. A very nice man delivered the bag at about 4:30 p.m. (I'd landed at about that time the day before.) So much for JetBlue being perfect!

But I've just taken a long break and planted things in my garden, picked out a million more oak leaves (curses on them!), tied up my clematis that grew from about 8" last week to about 30" today, and generally wandered around looking at all the things growing. We're having another real spring--maybe all global warming isn't so bad--and I'm loving it.

Back Home

I'm home from a week in Texas, where I helped to pack up the house of my step-daughter. Actually she sold her 63-acre ranch, the Dunbar Rose Ranch (I don't think that's its whole title but close).
It's a beautiful place with many roses ... and jasmine and spice bush and palms and philodendrons and ... And horses. She actually turned it into a working horse ranch where she kept her 8? 9? 10? polo ponies.
Because yes, she was a polo player. She says she's sworn it off and is moving to learning to jump. Oh good. From one dangerous sport to a perhaps more dangerous sport.

Here's an idea of what it looks like--I took these photos in 2007, just after she'd bought the place.



Meanwhile, the ranch was simply too much for one person to handle. Make that one woman who has a more-than-full-time job as an attorney expected to work 60-80 hour weeks. And who played polo as well as taking care of all those horses. Horses, I've learned, are like valuable, fragile and wrong-headed puppies who'll hurt themselves on a daily basis if left to their own devices for more than, oh, about 26 seconds. Luckily I'm far too old to be bitten by the horse bug now. I find them beautiful and sensitive and thoroughly someone else's responsibility!

I'm writing now because I'm just back and a little too wound up to sleep, but I'm starting to wind down so I'll sign off for tonight, but will try to be back very soon to talk about where said stepchild has moved to. It's amazing.

1-1/2 Martinis

I try to have no more than two martinis. I found a pkg. of cocktail napkins in an airport mall store that had this poem:

Martinis are my favorite drink
But always two at most.
Three, I'm under the table.
Four, I'm under the host.

I am so mad that I didn't buy the packet. Oh dumb.

Because the verse is supposedly by Dorothy Parker, one of my heroes. She was the only female member (I believe) of the famed "Algonquin Table" of writers who met frequently (daily? weekly?) for drinks, and more drinks, at the Algonquin Table in ... some famous hotel in NYC in the '30s. She's credited with "Men don't make passes at girls who wear glasses" and a few other witticisms but I read her biography and like many comics, Dorothy was chronically depressed. But she still helped to write, and maybe even shared credit for, the screenplays of several very witty 30s-40s movies. But I do love that martini poem best of all.

So I'm off to finish my 2nd martini. Bruce is in Massachusetts and I've done all my duties with our dog--cuddling before her bedtime, etc. It's much like having a neurotic child, believe me.

I'm hoping for rain tomorrow, whether or not it's warm. We've had high fire warning messages for the last couple of days and I'd like those to go away, especially since I've heard our town's fire siren going off more frequently than usual recently. (This may well be because of the moron North Country idjits who insist on burning off their ditch grass regardless of the fact all the snow has been gone for awhile and we've had no rain. Duh.)

I hope you're having (or have had--it's 11:40 my time) a great Friday night. Today has been a much better day for me.

Ciao.

100-Year-Old Driver Day

It's 100-Year-Old Driver Day here in the jewel of the North Country. While there's a Bad Driver Convention held frequently in Plattsburgh (begins on any Thursday with warm-up bad driving exercises, carries through Friday - Sunday, stragglers remain on Monday practicing the skills they learned, and early arrivers for the next convention begin arriving on Wednesdays), this was a "silver" opportunity. Pun intended. One geezer pulling out of a business onto the busiest street in town and he's basically walking his car into traffic. Brand new car, too. I guess he didn't want to get any sand or dirt on it.

No turn signals, driving well under the speed limit, turn signal on but not turning, oblivious to anyone else on the road, not turning right on red. All white-haired drivers. And I'm pretty close to that at this point, white-haired, I mean. It's still a lot of colors but the primary impression is: G R A Y. So I don't think it's the pot calling the kettle, if you know what I mean. I'm a very early retiree but being a retiree I believe I can say bad things about my cohort. Bad thing number one: Old people can't and shouldn't drive!

Okay, now that's done, let me give you what my menu was for Easter. It was such a nice meal, with friends over. I love to have guests for dinner and Bruce is finally adjusting to that idea. Anyway: Easter ham with real mashed potatoes, Roasted Butternet Squash with Balsamic Glaze, Shredded Brussels Sprouts with Bacon, butterhorn (homemade) rolls, and pastry tart shells filled with fresh fruit with vanilla yogurt. YUM. We just reran much of the meal and I'm stuffed again. But today was a trainer day so I feel about, ooh, that guilty.

But now I have to go drink an ocean. Working out requires water and the ham just sucked every drop of it somewhere!

Personal Trainer

I have a personal trainer. I've been to two, yes, two sessions at the college's Fitness Center and its director is my personal trainer. He's developed a series of exercises for strength training that combine use of the machines (I'm not a fan of doing nothing but) and free weights. So my quads are crying for mercy and my back is "stiff." Bruce would say that rather than "sore." Take your pick.

There are way too many mirrors in that place, IMHO. I realize that when you're 20 and in shape, it's fun to watch your lithe and lithic body (lithic doesn't fit here in meaning but it sounds so good--I stole the phrase from a poem by John Updike, I think) go through its paces. But when you're a 60 year old pudgy wuss, it's not nearly as much fun. My muffin top is at souffle proportions now so mirrors are definitely not my friends. But I have a very simple goal: to go three times per week, faithfully, until the end of the semester. That's about 5 weeks. Then I'll look at Summer Session. I have no physical goals other than to work at keeping osteoporosis at bay. I'll have a bone scan soon to see if my osteopenia has advanced or abated. Wanting to score particular measurements is so self-defeating I can't contemplate it. So I'll just go for strength. We all need more of that, right?

The cost for the training is unbelievable. I pay $80 per semester. Period. No extra for personal training time. My sister is sooo jealous! I'll probably have Matt for 1-2 more visits and then a student trainer. That's fine with me. I told Matt I need someone I'd have to call if I weren't coming, a sort of personal shamer.

So maybe someday I'll post a photo of me with Michelle-Obama arms. How patient are you?

Bittersweet

That's a nice word, bittersweet. It's the feeling I've had today, scanning old photo slides so that my kids can have the pictures Chuck & I took way back when. I'd started out feeling rather sad, as I have before when doing this, but I've decided to focus on the sweet part. We were a happy family, multiple-degreed spouses with two beautiful, truly gorgeous little girls. We were Yuppies with a capital Y. The girls are still lovely, the degrees are still there; we're just not that family anymore. But oh, my, were we pretty. (I'd put a photo of the four of us but I haven't scanned in all the pictures yet, so this one of the three of us will have to do.) Here we are in 1980, not too long after moving to Plattsburgh, and well before the coldest winter on record in this area (I'm pretty sure that record is still holding, too). Look how young I was, how small the girls.

I have loved being a mother more than anything. I liked being a librarian and it does suit my mild to moderate OCD rather well, but I probably should have opted to be a stay-at-home mom. Except for going crazy because I would have had no adults to talk to--and that lunacy would probably not have reached the involuntary-commitment level until the girls were high schoolers, when every mother is allowed certifiable madness--I actually was Martha Stewart. I just didn't have the modelling career that led to the connections. I guess, to be honest, what I really lacked was the level of gottawanna that it would have taken to build that empire. (The same could be said of my acting career, or lack thereof.) My daughters make me sooo proud, though, that not being Martha is acceptable. I was about as much Martha as anyone in my family could tolerate, I'm sure!

To look at those photos is to push myself back into a life that hardly seems real anymore. (I'm determined to find a 4-List photo. There'll be one here before the end of this post.

NO! The photo here is my youngest sister and her husband trying to claim parenthood of MY daughters. It won't work now anymore than it did back then!)

Being a grandmother, something I couldn't comprehend in those early years, I get to watch myself doing it again. I'm not saying that my daughter parents like I did. Good grief, we had NO money and I was a real make-do mom. But to watch her and her husband worry and love and care for their girls is more like watching myself than I imagined. I like it. And because I have few regrets about how I mothered, I'm fine with Emily picking and choosing the parts of mine that she uses. And whether she knows it or not, there are some that I see! But they're probably mothering styles that everyone uses so who's to say it's me she learned 'em from.

So I look at the pictures of young Carla and young Chuck and those baby girls. I remember the incidents that have been memorialized in stories that we've told throughout their lives. What else? Emily's girls brought back the smells of mothering and some (!) of those are nice. And the baby/toddler voices are a thrill to hear, to try to hear my own tiny voices again. But the photos are still awfully good to remind me how much fun it was to have kids.

Okay, okay. So here are not one, but two photos of the whole List family taken in 1979. The first was taken in spring--maybe around Easter? And I don't want to hear anything about my glasses! They were in style back then!


For more viewing pleasure, the photo here was taken on Mother's Day, 1979. The family was complete: Chuck 28, Emily 23 months, Carla 30, Jenny 3-1/2 months.


I'll do more photos in the near future. Check Facebook too, because I may post a few there.