WHAT ?

When the hell did this happen ? When did I get old ? Where did the last 65 years go ?
It was only yesterday that I was a kid riding my bike and roller skating in the street. It was only yesterday that I was in college having the time of my life and almost flunking out because of it. It was only yesterday that I was married and having my first beautiful child (I love you Kyle). It was only yesterday that I was raising 3 kids and wondering if I would ever sleep another complete night without being woken up by a child with a stomach ache (I love you Ker). It was only yesterday that my youngest was graduating from college when he had only just been born the day before, (I love you Kent. How did you grow up so fast?).
And now I am 65 ! An official Senior Citizen, complete with a Medicare card, grey hair (which just got colored yesterday, a lovely shade of blond) and lots and lots of wrinkles. But some how or other when I look in the mirror I still see that 21 year old who had a life full of adventures ahead of her. I am only 21 in my head and even in my body until my knee catches or my back gives me a twinge. How is it possible I have made it this far and never noticed the time passing? Each day I wake up and look ahead at what adventures lie before me. It's like reading a book and never knowing what you will find when you turn the page. So far all the pages have been wonderful, even the days when sickness or pain are present it is still a pretty great trip.
So . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME and may there be many many more wonderful days to experience. Thank you God for all these blessings but I really need to pay more attention to them cause time is going by faster and faster each day.

Abby

I guess I really should write a blog about my greand daughters since I wrote about my "grand puppy" and since I just happen to have the greatest picture of Abby that really seals the deal.
Abby is our 5 year old love who is now living with her parents in Windsor, England.
Daddy Kyle, our oldest son, has taken an opportunity offered by his company to move the family to England for the next 2-3 years. They left Atlanta on March 31st, moved into a "castle" and are becoming quite the proper Brits. According to Kyle the British are quite proper but nasty. He is not well loved at work, probably because he was sent there to shape up or shut down this particular branch of the company he works for. Bridget, his wife is meeting other moms through Abby and is slowly finding her place in the British life. But Abby is the one who is doing the best. She has been in Windsor for 3 weeks and is looking like she has lived there all of her life. The first 2 weeks she was in Windsor the schools were closed for spring holiday. (Not vacation . . . HOLIDAY!) Bridget and Kyle took Abby to various parks in the area and Abby got to meet and play with some children her own age. At the end of the first week Abby went to "Camp" for a day and learned that if kids throw sand at you and no one tells them "NO" you can speak up for yourself and tell them NO!
Week two brought more adventures and another day at camp. Abby LOVED going to camp! She and mom also went to visit the headmaster at her new school. She got a tour of the building and her classroom to be and then went shopping with mom for her school uniforms. Monday of this past week was the beginning of school, all day, every day with LUNCH IN A CAFETERIA ! (I think that was the high point of the day ! That and the 3 recesses during the day.) School was a HIT ! The excitement of school includes which uniform, tie or no tie, we will wear today and what's on the menu for lunch ! (Is this my grand child or what !) Day two was just as great as day one, if not better. Unfortunately some time in the middle of the night between day two and three Abby started to throw up and that was it for week one and school. The stomach virus kept her out for the rest of the week but she looked pretty great today when we talked to her on Skype. Hopefully next week will go as great, without the stomach virus to interupt it.

Wet Dog

No, this is not another story about Ger. This blog is about my Grand "Puppy", Mookie. Mokie is a wonderful Chow mix mutt that belongs to my youngest son, Kent and his wife Kristen. Mookie has been with Kent since Kent's days of living in Baltimore, just out of college, working at a crappy job, living from hand to mouth. Kent got Mookie as a puppy sometime around 2001-2002. I never will know the real story of how Mookie got into the family because at the time Kent was sharing a 3 story building with a bunch of other guys, all of which drank a lot of beer and were all trying to find their path in life. Mookie and her sibling, Snickers, arrived into that house and it is a wonder the poor dog is not brain damaged because of all the beer she drank at a young age. We have no idea what ever happened to Snickers, I shudder to think about it, but Kent moved out rather soon after and he and Mookie have been best buds ever since. As a puppy she was a tiny ball of fuzz. Now she is a BIG ball of fuzz who LOVES to come to Grandma's. She was my first grand(child) and will always be a favorite. Since she lives only 45 minutes away we do get to see her more often than the other grand daughters who are in England and Maryland. When Mookie comes to Grandma's the order of the day is BALL !! BALL !! BALL !!! If I had a nickel for all the tennis balls we have gone through in the past 5 years I would be rich ! We have an enclosed back yard with a pool in it. Mookie loves to come up here and play ball in the back yard. We have to be careful that she doesn't tear up her feet on the cement around the pool but she does love to run and catch the ball. As soon as she arrives here she charges into the garage room to find her basket with the tennis balls in it. For some stupid reason on my part I keep buying chewie bones of all sorts which Mookie NEVER chews on. Instead she noses them aside and grabs a BALL. Then it is out into the back yard to play. Her favorite is when you throw the ball into the pool, just near the edge. She leans way over and grabs it with her teeth and back to you for another throw. Quite often our aim is off and the ball lands in the middle of the pool. That's when she stands on the edge and alternates between barking at the ball and looking at you with those big sad eyes. You see, Mookie DOES NOT swim ! No way, no how, NEVER ! She will lay on the top step of the pool and cool her belly and feet but that is as far as she will go. Every so often she tips over when reaching for the ball and in she goes. I have never seen a more frantic animal in my life. She totally panics and has no idea how to swim or climb out. Whoever is the poor sucker who is playing with her at the time has to go in and rescue this poor thing. I thought all animals were natural swimmers . . . Not this dog. Kent has tried carrying her into the pool with hopes of teaching her to swim or at least giving her the idea that she can paddle to safety. These ventures have resulted in Kent receiving wounds across 50% of his body. Picture a 40 pound dog trying to climb her way onto your shoulders and head. It's not a pretty sight!
So Mook is here for the weekend while "mom & dad" are away and grandma and grandpa have been playing ball since noon on Friday. I think we have finally tired the dog out because she has stopped following us with a tennis ball in her mouth. I caught her napping on the couch before and snuck up next to her and dropped the ball on her head. She just opened one eye and looked at me like I was the crazy one.
Oh, by the way . . . our son Kent is a HUGE NY Met's fan, thus the name of the dog . . . Mookie Wilson. Heaven help us when Kent's son is born. We may end up with another Mookie or Daryl or some other NY Mets' player's name.

Husband And The Swordfish

Now if you think this is going to be a story about Ger deep sea fishing, think again. Husband is not into macho things like sport fishing, hunting, motorcycle riding or pretty any thing that involves moving. He is the sort of sit/lie there kind of guy who if it involves any sort of interaction, energy or movement it is beyond him. Rather, this is a story about the type of swordfish that you buy at the market and bring home to cook. This is about the most chalenging thing husband has done in months.
We have house guests . . . and rather than stink up the house with the smell of cooking fish I decided we would cook the two beautiful, inch thick swordfish steaks on the grill outside. This automatically becomes Ger's job because it is a MANLY job to BBQ and he takes great pride in mastering the art of cooking a steak or a burger on the grill. But now I have thrown him for a total complete loop . . . I have asked him to cook a F I S H on his sacred, manly grill. He will not admit that this is something he would rather not do because then he would have to admit he is not the KING of grilling. So instead he agreed to take on "THE FISH". Because I knew he was breaking out in a cold sweat and starting to hyperventilate I went on line and checked on recipies for grilling swordfish. (I mean, really . . . how freaking hard can this be and how freaking different from a piece of beef can this be?) I gave him the fish steaks and told him the internet said to cook them 6-8 minutes a side. YOU WOULD THINK I ASKED HIM TO WALK A TIGHT ROPE ACROSS NIAGRA FALLS ! I left him and our house guest out at the grill and went back inside before I either lost it in hysterical laughter or choaked him to death. In EXACTLY 15 minutes husband came running (well, as close to running as he can get, which really amounts to a quick walk) into the house with the fish on a platter. He charged into the kitchen asking, "Is this fish done?". Like he couldn't take a knife and cut into it like he would a steak? As it turned out it was not done and needed about 10 more minutes on the grill. I was now in the dog house because I TOLD him 6-8 minutes on each side and that was what he had done so I was WRONG ! (capital letters, exclamation point!) What do I know about grilling fish? Only what I read on the internet.
Bottom line, the fish was a little too well done and dry but what the hell . . . at least my house doesn't stink of fish !

The Palm Trees

Husband is sitting in the back yard staring at a tree! No joke . . . He is in the lawn chair watching a couple of workers cut branches off one of our palm trees. But this is not something new. He often sits in the yard and stares at the palms. He is obsessed with the trees. They occupy much of his time and enter into almost every conversation with anyone who comes to our home.
Living in South Florida we are surrounded by palm trees. I never knew there were so many types and that most of them are NOT native to this area. And that is all I know or care to know about palm trees. They are very lovely, they provide shade and they do not require any care. Or so I thought. It seems that all palm trees produce some sort of "off-spring". The most familiar is the coconut. But then there are "date" palm and "grape" palms and heaven only knows what other palms. Our Palm trees produce PODS ! Think horror film of the past . . . Pod people invade the Earth . . .
well, that is what is growing in our trees. And they DRIVE MY HUSBAND CRAZY !! He is obsessed with these things. As soon as one starts to form he is out in the back pacing. Muttering about the PODS. Wondering how he can get up that high to cut them down. It is problematic because #1. The trees are over 10 feet tall and #2 they have spikes growing out of them close to the trunk. We have learned that in Florida most things that are growing have needle sharp spikes that are just waiting to attack you. On the occasions when Ger does get on a ladder to attack the PODS he comes out the looser with numerous punctures and wounds. These trees are VICIOUS ! That and the fact that a 70 year old man has NO business climbing on an 8 foot ladder all make it seem totally ridiculous to let these pods bother him. But the pods do ripen and open and drop the most God awful mess into the pool. (But isn't that why we have a pool boy?)
Anyway . . . there were landscapers working their way through the neighborhood today and for the paltry cost of $10 a tree the palms are now NAKED ! NO fronds, no pods, no shade ! But husband is happy so that is all that counts.

Don't Burn The Popcorn

In case you have noticed that I have not mentioned my mission to lose weight it is because I have been distracted. Dairy Queen has that affect on me. I have also been distracted by Denny's breakfast, Too Jay's, OMG to die for corned beef on rye, and a few other wonderful eating establishments in our area. There was the trip to Atlanta that distracted me but basically I have just been in denial that I HAVE to lose weight. Yesterday, being Sunday, brought a trip to church and then breakfast out. After that it was a lazy, lazy day which I spent doing "stuff". Fun stuff, relaxing stuff and nothing stuff that would cause me to think. About mid way through the afternoon I decided I needed a snack. Something yummy but not sweet. After foraging through the house I came up with some microwave popcorn that would just hit the spot. I opened the package, threw it into the microwave (correct side up!) and rather than use the, OH SO HANDY, MADE FOR IDIOTS, button that is clearly labled POPCORN, I decided to out smart the popcorn and the microwave. It drives me nuts* to open the bag of popcorn only to have a fist full of unpopped kernals left in the bottom of the bag. I have been CHEATED out of all that popcorn. (When you consider that I am eating the entire bag by my self does it really matter that there are 20 pieces I will not consume?) But it is just the idea that I paid for those pieces of corn and I should get to enjoy them! Sooooooooooooooooo, to solve this problem of unpopped corn kernals I set the microwave for 4 minutes instead of the 3.5 that it cooks when you push the "POPCORN" button. NOT !!!!! How 30 freaking seconds can make the difference between a lovely bag of popcorn and the creamated remains that caught fire and stunk up my house is beyond me. We are talking THREE . . . ZERO. . . SECONDS !!
Let me tell you how I will not try that again. It is 24 hours later and I still have every window in the house open, in spite of the rain, humidity and heat, all the fans are on high, I have cleaned my microwave 4 times with bleach and it still REAKS of burned popcorn in here.
I think I'll go to Curves and get some exercise and fresh air.
*Note that the "CRAZY" train has left the station long ago so it is just a figure of speach when I tell you something "Drives me crazy".

HAVE YOU SEEN THE MAN I MARRIED ?

I lost him some where over these past 40 years. There is someone here in his place who resembles that guy I fell in love with but this version really isn't all that great. I want the original copy back. Or maybe I need my rose colored glasses and simple mind back. Either way . . . I'v been robbed !
The original person I met all those years ago was handsome, fun, clever, witty, funny, sexy and smart ! He listened to me and we talked endlessly and easily about everything and anything. OR . . . is that just how I remember it ? Was I so snowed by this charming older man that I didn't notice all the things that drive me NUTS today? Was he really charming or just full of shit ? Was he witty and funny because I had never heard the jokes and stories before? Now after 40 years of hearing the same thing over and over and over he isn't quite as entertaining. Was he really all that smart or was I all that stupid ? It is a proven fact . . . (ask any woman) . . . men get stupider with age and women get smarter. It is a survival thing. As young women we listen raptly with adoring gazes as our man spews out his wisdom. As we age we realize that the wisdom is really 90% bull shit and we get smarter and smarter the more we dig our way through the piles of BS. We also realize that in order to survive we MUST take over the running of the family. The check book with CF (correction factor) scratched across each page because husband will not/cannot balance the check book and refuses in this day and age to learn to use a computer for on line banking ! And how many times do we have to ask for something to be done around the house before we either do it ourselves or hire someone to do it?
Husband's world has become a black hole of emptyness centering around the TV set. All those times we used to talk about nothing and anything . . . If it doesn't come from Fox News it isn't part of the conversation.
I don't know if I have had to become stronger and take on more responsibility because Ger just can't be bothered or has he just let go of everything because I have become more responsible? It is the old "Chicken or the Egg" thing. But whatever the reasons, I don't like it. Today it is just bugging the hell out of me that I am running my ass off and the Little Prince sits on his throne (recliner) and ALLOWS me to go nuts. Some days are worse than others and I guess I am tired. But damn it, what was I thinking all those years ago when I chose this man to share my life with me? I guess I should have looked up the defination of the word "Share" in the Brooklyn Irish Catholic dictionary or at least taken a good long look at his family before I made my decision. My Mother-in-law did try to warn me when she told me. "He doesn't have a clue" but I thought she was kidding. Stupid me !!

Home Again

It has been over a week and I have not written anything because I have been recovering from 3 weeks of "On The Go". After sending Aunt AM home with her overloaded suitcases we jumped on a plane and spent 4 days with Abby and family. They are now in chilly, rainy England doing quite well for themselves. We have talked with them twice since their arrival and they have entertained us with stories of the amazing house they are living in and the wonderful areas around them. It seems that Abby is not used to such a HUGE home and is rather intimidated by the 16 foot ceilings and the big open spaces. There was one story about having to remove the family coat of arms from the top of the staircase because it was really freaking out Abby who refused to go up stairs while it hung on the wall. We Americans are not used to "Coats of Arms" and the like so this stuff is pretty freaky to a 5 year old. But they are settling in and finding their way around the "weird" appliances in the English kitchen. No Kenmore or Whirlpool in England. Abby is meeting some kids on the numerous playgrounds they are visiting and may get enrolled in a camp for a day or two next week. The following week school starts up again and she will be attending kindergarten all day. That should be interesting for all. Kyle is liking his new job and Bridget seems quite happy with everything. The two complaints are the cold (50's) and the narrow roads. Kyle says it is like playing chicken on these very narrow streets, who is going to move over first ? Hopefully he won't hit any walls like his father did in Ireland !
So now we are home and waiting for the call that asks us to fly over to babysit when K & B go to the Ukraine to get Roman. Ger and I bought new suitcases yesterday, (about time! We haven't bought luggage since we got married.) and our first try out with our new bags will be a trip to Maryland at the end of the month. Since we have just seen Abby I feel the need to go see my little Kaelin, who is just getting cuter every day. I'd add pictures to this blog but I can't seem to download them. I had Kristen helping me the other day but we just couldn't get it to work. I'll see what I can do.
Till the next rambling . . . Have a great day !!