Saturday, January 26, 2013

A Kidnapping

It is an unfortunate thing.  After finally getting into the blogging groove I am going to be missing for a few days... like 14.

It's not my fault.  Really.  It's not.  I have been kidnapped and am being held at gunpoint until later today when I will be blindfolded, stuffed into a car and driven to Ft. Lauderdale at which time I will be forced up the gangway and onto a very large sea worthy vessel that will take me away for 14 days.

wEclipse

I am trembling with fear.  My kidnappers are fearce opponents and have overpowered all attempts to ward them off.

I am told that you can put your wallets away.  There is no ransom involved.  I have been assured that I if I behave myself, don't spend too much time in the casino and refrain from singing "Hot, Hot, Hot," at the top of my lungs that I will be returned virtually unharmed (there is no guarantee that sunburn will not be involved) two weeks from today.

Keep the faith my faithful eleven as I attempt to remain strong amidst the difficulties of the upcoming days.  I am instructed that if I don't put up too much resistance I will be permitted to roam about the ship at my leasure.

wSt.John_islands

I have vowed to do as I am told in order to secure my safe return.  (Although that casino thing is a bit iffy.)

Bon Voyage.

See you in 14

That is unless the casino police grab me and stuff me a tiny cell where I will be held until trial with only bread and water to sustain me.  If found guilty I will be forced to live out my remaining days sailing around the Caribbean on a cargo ship swabbing the deck for 26 burly seamen.

It might be worth it.


Thursday, January 24, 2013

Joy and Intent

Earlier this month I stood outside in the moonlight, raised my hand and released the string that had held "intentional" close for all of 2012.  I watched intentional gently rise and slowly float away.  It was after all a new year and time for a new word.

Earlier in the day Joy had selected me.  It drifted down from above and settled around my shoulders like a new down jacket.  It was soft and warm and held the promise of 2013.

But I have to tell you, I miss intentional.  I miss the jolt of reality it brought to my days.  The way it encouraged me to get up and get going, to eat healthier, to make an effort in the nooks and crannies of my life.  I miss it and have decided to call it home.

wPainted_daisy

I'm not giving up on Joy.  Not at all.  Who doesn't need more joy in their life?  It's right there for the taking.  It's in the first steaming cup of coffee in morning and the sparkle in Henna's eyes as she patiently waits for her  treat.  It's in the dirty socks and sweaty ball shirt that lies expectantly on the washer after a softball game and the relaxing glass of wine at the end of the day.

But intentional kept me honest. I liked when it jumped on the bed and whispered good intentions in my ear.  Thus I have decided that we are facing 2013 as a threesome, Joy, Intentional and myself.  We're holding hands and taking the plunge, together.  Much like Miss A and the G-man standing at the edge of the pool all giggles and smiles expecting the unexpected.

Joy and Intent.  I hope they get along and there's no squabbling.

I don't want to have to separate them.








Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Honor Restored


The Kid:  I don't get it.

Me:  Don't get what?

The Kid:  Your blog.  I don't get it.

Me:  It's because you're a man.

The Kid:  I don't understand.  A receipt convention?  What are you talking about?

Me:  You're a man.  You don't carry a purse.


And then the self doubt began to set in.  What if nobody out there got it?  None of you, the faithful eleven.

Was I going to have to write a post to explain a post?

If you carry a purse, things accumulate.  Things like gum wrappers, loose change, and receipts.  And some times those things that have accumulated multiply to the extent that they appear to have a convention in the bottom of said purse.

Or was I going to have to hit delete and make the post vanish like the one about the woman who almost died at a dinner party I was hosting and The Kid stuffed the extra desserts under her blanket for the paramedics as they were wheeling her out the door.  That one you don't remember because it was years ago and I hit delete because my children thought it was offensive.

And then Audrey commented. (My oldest and one of my dearest friends in the whole wide world who I never, ever get see anymore.)  "I can relate," she said.  Simple and to the point.  And instantly my honor was restored.

Thank you Audrey.  You saved me.  You got it.

wcampJameson

Now I don't have to write a post to explain a post or hit the the delete button.

But The Kid?

I think he's getting a new purse for his birthday.




Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Receipt Convention

Do things accumulate in your purse?  They do in mine.  They not only accumulate but some items, such as grocery receipts, host conventions that are attended by thousands.  At said conventions they party too much, overindulge at the bar and end up flat on their backs, tattered and torn at the bottom of my purse.  There they may remain for months on end before someone finally notices them and puts them out of their misery.

wbeach_coconut

I cleaned my purse out yesterday.

This is what I found:

1.  One stray house key to a door that does not belong to me.

2.  Lip gloss in 3 shades of pink.

3.  One Formica chip.

4.  One pair of earrings I had thought gone for good.

5.  A fabric swatch - just in case I need to match something.

6.  Two dimes

7.  Three pennies

8.  My old cell phone - in the event I need a number that didn't transfer to my new phone.

9. Two notepads

10.  427 paint chips.  I can't seem to make a decision.

and

11.  5,752 attendees to the fall/winter receipt convention.

Those receipts sure do know how to have a good time.



Monday, January 21, 2013

Just Shoot Me

There I stood amid the racks of elastic waist pants and pastel knit tops that match ever so perfectly, when my aha moment struck, like a bolt of lightening out of the blue. Actually it was more of a OMG moment than an aha moment as I looked around and wondered, perhaps out loud, how the heck did I end up here? Here with six hundred senior citizens among the racks of elastic waist pants and pastel knit tops on discount day at the local Beals department store?

It all began two weeks ago when The Kid determined it was time for his biennial shopping spree.  His shirts were all faded and most of his shorts were suffering from chlorine toxicity (a.k.a. careless application of liquid chlorine to the pool).  He had heard a rumor that Beals had great sales and thought it a good place to start.  Indeed.

If you aren't familiar with Beals it is the shopping mecca for seniors in south Florida.  On any given day 85% of the store is discounted thirty to forty percent.  I am convinced that the reason behind the deep discount is that the regular retail price is marked up by thirty to forty percent.  These people have done their homework.  They know their target market.  What living breathing blue haired senior would not be willing to drive an extra mile or two in the air conditioned comfort of their Mercury Grand Marquis for a good sale?

But I digress.

On that fateful day I scored a pair of khaki Columbia capris that actually fit without forcing every extra centimeter of fat that has accumulated around my middle up and over the top of the waist band.  If you are over 50 and aren't a Victoria's Secret model, you know what I'm talking about.  Don't deny it, you know you do girlfriend.

After standing in the check-out line for what seemed like a millennium, we finally reached the cashier.  Our total was high, even with the discounts and the additional 20% off coupon passed on to us by the nice gentleman who waited with us in line for seemed like a millennium.  (That's what happens when you only shop every other year.)  But surprise of all surprises we had been awarded $50 in Beals bucks as a reward for our out of control spending.  Fifty dollars to be used on a future purchase of any item in the store.  There was one catch. The coupon was only valid on one of two days which fell in the middle of the following week.

Since $50 dollars worth of free merchandise is nothing to sneeze at; and just maybe I could snag another pair of those slimming Columbia capris; I found myself driving the distance to Beals the following Wednesday to redeem my coupon.  And that is when it happened.  My OMG moment.  There I was for the second time in two weeks standing in the middle of those racks of elastic waist pants and the pastel tops that match with every other blue haired snow bird in south Florida because I couldn't pass up a sale.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

wWalkingAlong

Lately I've had a hankering for prunes, but please, if you see me driving a Mercury Grand Marquis, just shoot me.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Field of Dreams

It's that time of year.

wclay-feet

Dusty cleats are located at the rear of the closet,

glove oil uncovered beneath batteries, old keys and permanent markers in the kitchen junk drawer.

wZilinski_D_1

Robert becomes Bobby, William Billy.

There is stretching.

wFurst_D_1

And groaning.

wWhoops

And high hopes for the new season.

wCinnacola_D_3

With the first crack of the bat,

the first roar of the crowd.

wSchneider_D_1

Little League dreams are resurrected.

They are ageless wonders of the diamond playing on their own "field of dreams."

wDeanna_D_1

Yes, it is that time of year.

Senior Softball is in session.

wclay-feet

Now would someone please pass the Ben Gay.


Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Donut Report

Late last fall the G-man discovered a brand spanking new Dunkin Donuts under construction not too far from home.  For some reason, known only to him, he felt compelled to share the news with Papee (Allie's spelling, so we're going with it).  Said Dunkin Donuts it seems is on the way to everything in the G-man's world (school, the YMCA, shopping, groceries, etc.) and periodic updates on the progress of construction were forthcoming throughout the month of December.  Phone calls that came in fits and spurts from a little boy who talked so fast that his words collided in a tangled mess before they could be decifered.  Except. For.  Dunkin Donuts.

When the phone rang two weeks ago I could tell by the grin on Papee's face that it was the G-man on the other end of the line.  "I don't know exactly what he said," stated Papee, "but I think that Dunkin Donuts may have finally opened."  The announcement of the grand opening required a grand gesture and Papee made tracks for our local DD where a generous gift card was procured.  A thank you note was written (all of those updates were hard work for the little man) with instructions for the G-man to buy himself and his sister a big box of donuts.

Several days later Papee's phone rang once again with an excited Gabe was on the other end.  "What was that about," I inquired.  "Not sure," said Papee, "but I think Gabe got his gift card.

Apparently our little man was delighted with his mail.  Mom wasn't certain what pleased him more, his note card or his gift card.  I think it was a toss up as it was reported he drifted off to sleep that night with both grasped tightly in his little boy hands.  The next day Allie (not to be left out) requested Dunkin Donuts for breakfast.  The G-man quickly chimed in that it was a great idea and he would pay....with his brand new debit card.

wGabe_steps

Don't you just love that kid?






Monday, January 14, 2013

Insomnia

It is 6:04 in the a.m. and I have been up for almost two hours.  That doesn't count the hour I tossed and turned before giving in to my insomnia.

wcanalsunrise

The Kid is snoring.  His head hits the pillow, his eyes close and he is asleep.  A state he manages to maintain for at least ten hours.  I find it rather annoying and more than a little unfair.

There is a silver lining.  It is Monday and soon, very soon, an army of garbage trucks will rumble across the bridge and down our street where one will come to a screeching halt at the end of our drive.  Gears will grind as the trash can is lifted; its contents emptied in a chorus of breaking glass; then unceremoniously slammed back to earth. The process will be repeated, screech, crash, bang again and again before the behemoth moves on to its next victim.  It is impossible for anyone living and breathing to sleep through it, even The Kid.

I knew if I tried hard enough I could find the joy.


Saturday, January 12, 2013

Joy in the Morning


Nothing works better than this

wMarco_from_water

to chase away the gray of a dreary winter day.

Just trying to add a little "joy" to your morning.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Pathetic

wHenna_side

The above photo and the Mexican Poppy in the previous post are the sum total of photograph's I have taken since returning to Florida on December 26th.  Pathetic, isn't it?  I am beginning to think my photo mojo was mistakenly packed and stored in the barn at the cottage along with everything else.

I hope the mice don't find it.


Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Life in a Nutshell


wMexican Poppy

I find myself sitting here this morning feeling the need to write a post yet have no plan.  This could be dangerous.

I still have not begun walking, at least not any farther than the refrigerator.  The next person who brings peanut butter ice cream into this house will be shot on the spot.  

I am still waiting on those pictures from the contractor.  More than likely I will be taking them myself in May.  Contractors are like that you know.  Promises, promises.

My dryer died.  A new one was delivered yesterday.  I hate spending money on new appliances.  It had to be done though, the lanai was beginning to look like a Chinese laundry.

Henna went to the groomer on Monday.  She smells better now.  

The Kid is back.  Senior softball has begun.  More on that later.

The National Championship football game was such a snoozer we watched The Natural instead.

And there you have it.  

My life in a nutshell.


Monday, January 7, 2013

Little Red Update

front_snow

This is how we left her on a cold November day, wrapped in a blanket of white Tyvak to ward off the ice and snow that would be forthcoming.  Prior to our arrival in November a new entry had been added along with a stamped concrete porch.  No more moss covered green indoor/outdoor carpet...how will we manage without that little gem?

She remained in this state until last week when my phone dinged the arrival of a text from the 7 AM Walkers (a.k.a. my good friends Marge & Marcia).  Work had begun again.

It took about 3 seconds to fire off a message to the contractor for an update and a request for pictures.  He responded that the former exterior walls in the kitchen had been removed along with the old ceiling in the great room.  There was progress to report on the plumbing and the rough electric is almost complete.  The new kitchen window was installed along with the new entry door; and heating ducts will go in next week.

There was good news to report with regard to the ceilings which were several inches shy of the standard 8'.  There was concern that the beams in the great room were more than decorative and would prohibit the new ceiling height from being raised.  Not so, we will now have 8' ceiling throughout but in the process have lost the old beams.  Mixed feelings about that.  They were fake, nothing really worth preserving except that I liked the look of them even though visually they lowered the ceiling even more.

Rumor has it that the new look is open and BRIGHT.  How exciting is that?  If you have ever visited Little Red you know that the great room was dark and tomb like.  Three coats of white paint had improved the look but nothing adds light better than removing walls.

No photos yet but I will share them with you when they arrive.

Promise.


Sunday, January 6, 2013

Six Years Ago Today

Six years ago today we climbed into the car and made the 90 minute drive to North Port where she was waiting, stubby little tail and all.  She was tentative and shy, as unsure of us as we were of her.  Over time we fell hard for each other.

Today....  she owns us.

wsweet_Henna

And we wouldn't want it any other way.

Friday, January 4, 2013

JOY

wsunrise

Four days ago 2013 arrived.  The start of a new year usually fills me with determination, anticipation, even excitement.  The door has slammed shut on whatever failures or short comings the old year wrought and the sun is peeking over the horizon on a fresh start.  Three hundred and sixty five days of second chances to get it right.  But for some reason I am struggling this year.  Wondering what happened to the anticipation and the determination.

Last year I chose a word to carry me through 2012 in lieu of the usual list of suspect resolutions.  How did that work out you ask?  My word was intentional and I believe it served me well, especially on the days that I embraced it; woke up with it bouncing on the bed and shouted it to the roof tops.  Of course by September there were many days I had to dig through the boxes stacked throughout the cottage to even locate it.  But that's okay.  I always managed to find it, blow off the dust and watch the magic happen when I let it loose again.

But let's get back to 2013 shall we.  A new year deserves a new word.  I have struggled with this for the past four days, which may account, at least in part, for the lackluster start to the new year.  Words came and went like shoppers at Macys but non stuck.  In fact when I started typing this morning I still had no word.  But somewhere between sips of coffee and spell check it appeared.  Drifted in on the gulf breeze.  Lightened my heart and causing me to smile.

JOY:  A feeling of great pleasure and happiness.

2013 is the year of joy.

This one's going to be a challenge.  But then, what's a fresh start without a challenge?

Anyone out there want to join me?




Thursday, January 3, 2013

A Plan Was Hatched

Our sun room couch is more than a little "tired."  She has served us well for almost ten years but has begun to show her age.  Yet in spite of the advancing years, her frame is strong and sturdy.  It is the fabric that is faded and thin.... and dirty.  Reupholstering is out of the question at this time.  Perhaps once the cottage reno is complete there will be a little cash left in the coffers for a new dress.  Until then... we live with it.

It was the dirty part that bothered us the most and of late has been a frequent topic of conversation.  One morning, earlier in the week, as The Kid and I were pondering the soiled state of our old friend, one of us got the bright idea to wash the cushions.  They were fabric. There was a zipper for easy removal.  We would use cold water.  We would dry them outside in the warm Florida sunshine rather than risk shrinkage in the unforgiving dryer.  Soon a plan was hatched.

Fast forward several hours.  Washing was done.  Fabric was somewhat cleaner.  No shrinkage (thanks to the weather for it's cooperation).  Finally after cutting a billion yards of frayed threads from the covers it was time to stretch them over their cushions.  Drum roll please.

They were clean.  The hadn't shrunk.  They looked good.  With the exception of one tiny little problem which we never considered.  That billion yards of frayed thread I removed were more than than the raw edges of the seams.  In some cases it was the seam.  Darn thing frayed right through the seams leaving gaping holes where smooth lines of stitching once held strong.

Are we getting a new couch?

 Are you kidding?  I'm getting a cheap inexpensive sewing machine to hopefully repair the damage.

It was all the coffers could stand.

On a lighter note, a big shout out to our Baby Girl.  She is seven years old today.

wGandA

Happy Birthday Allie Grace.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Happy New Year

If I admitted to you that I had no desire to stay up until midnight, watch the ball drop in NYC, or the country fall over the fiscal cliff, would you think badly of me?

The Kid and I had a quiet evening.  Watched a wonderful movie. (The King's Speech, in case you were curious.)  Drank champagne.  (At least I did.)  And went quietly off to bed before all of the hoopla began.  Does all of this make me old?  Please say no.

Poor, sweet Henna had a rough evening.  She spent most of it shaking like a leaf and wandering around the house looking for a place to hide.  Baby was stressed.  She doesn't like fireworks.

If I find some ambition this morning I will go for a walk.  Unfortunately, sometime in October, ambition went out for a walk on it's own and never returned.  I haven't had the motivation to go look for it.  If you happen to see it, please tell it to come home.

wCardinal

A little birdie and I wish you a Happy and Healthy 2013.

Happy New Year