Day Three of Mah Jongg classes at Lyford Cay

Everyone successfully graduated from Mah Jongg classes today. The beginners are on their way. And who says men don’t love mah Jongg have never been to one of my classes.

These guys, Alex, Scott and Daniel liked Beginner class so much they came to beyond beginner in the afternoon. Now that’s dedication.

I just adore my beyond beginner group, which included so many of my favorite friends here. After class I went home with Gaby so I could look at her paintings and her fabulous African art. She is such a talented artist. I loved her African people series as well as her tree series.

I feel so lucky to have made these sweet friends here at Lyford. I owe it all to Ruth E.who brought me here to share mah Jongg with them. It has taken on a life of it’s own and the friendships that have developed are life changing. I love spreading joy.

Class, Party, Class, Party

When I am not teaching mah Jongg at Lyford we are at a party. There are so many fabulous people here who are nothing but fun. One thing that can be counted on is that Ruth E. is going to throw the most fabulous cocktail party.

There are always the regulars who I can count on to come and have fun. Dixie, and Daria being two of them, who aren’t in class, but are always good for a party. Laura not only comes, but always brings a dish, often made in her toaster oven.

Gabby was there and brought some yummy cheese crackers. We asked her if she made them and she said, “They were made in my house.” I loved that.

Cute Anne Smith was there and it was the first I had seen of her this week. She promised she would be with me tomorrow, along with sweet Pat. Barbara dropped by and we got a photo with Jenny.

Then the whole new crowd of beginners came to cocktails. Alex and his partner, Scott, along with their dog Cooper. Scott was still reveling in his first mah Jongg win. Jane Scott also had a winning day, along with her cocktail. Tomorrow I hope they can contain themselves during class because it has all been much too fun.

The Cutest, Most Annoying Thing

Some things are cute. Some things are annoying. Something’s can be both cute and annoying at the same time. One such thing is this beautiful toilet paper cover.

In the middle of the night. When I wake up to do my business in my sleep I really want it to be efficient and quick so I can go back to sleep quickly. The faster I can go and wash my hands and get back to bed the more likely I am to do it in a partial waking state. But if anything becomes difficult I have to fully wake up and deal with it. Then I might not be able to fall back to sleep.

One such thing that can cause me to wake up is running out of toilet paper. If a new roll is handy then I might be Ok. It I don’t bother to try and put the new roll on the holder in the middle of the night that is not a problem. But if I have to try and wrestle a roll out of a tight fabric cover and remove a paper wrapper before I can even get to the toilet paper I am not staying a sleep to do this.

Yes, that fabric cover is very cute, but it never fails that I run out of tp| in the middle of the night. It would have been nice if the housekeeper had changed the roll when it was 90% spent, but no. I had to get down to three squares of paper at two in the morning.

I have learned my lesson. I will change the roll before bed if there is any possibility of running out in the night. No more trying to remove the cloth roll condom half asleep again.

Just Three Questions

I can usually find a connection with a new person I meet in just three questions. It does not matter where I am or who I meet. Tonight it was three questions at the maximum, but in some cases it was fewer.

We had the welcome cocktail party for Mah a Jongg week at Lyford. I have a big giant beginner group of students so many were new to me. One of the first women I met was from Connecticut. I asked her what town. It was Salisbury. I told her I grew up in Wilton, but went to school in Simsbury. She asked if I went to Westminster. I said, the other school, Ethel Walkers.

She said her sister went to Walkers. I asked how old her sister was. Turns out she is my age. Her sister was in my class, my friend May Herkert Bogdanovics. I could tell immediately they were sisters. Such a small world. Figured out in three questions.

I turned and met another woman. She told me her name was Jane Scott Hodges. She made sure I knew she went by Jane Scott. My friend Ruth E. said, “We’re southern, we know double names.” Jane Scott asked where I was from. Durham. “Oh do you know my sister-in-law Reneé?”

“Do I Know Reneé? Of course!” I did not follow up with, “I am Reneé’s most liberal friend.”

The next group of women I met were from Maryland, the same town where Suzanne is from and I spent many nights as a younger person.

Another woman came up and said, “I’m not here for class, but you taught me mah Jongg in Greensboro because of Lesly Tuck.” My friends are here to learn from you because of that. I didn’t even need to ask a question, she just told me the connection.

After the cocktail party we went to dinner. Ruth E. Brought two new friends who are coming to class tomorrow. Cathy, from Houston is friends with dear Lisa Mathis. And Melissa Barry’s is married to a guy from Kinston and knows all my Kinston friends. We spent half of Dinner discussing all the great people of Kinston.

If you ask the right questions I guarantee you will find a connection with each person you meet. It might not be as close as going to high school with their sister, but it will still be a connection somehow. The world is small. Look for the connections.

A Days Vacation

Russ and I arrived at Lyford today. It happened that one of the three weekly mah Jongg play groups was taking place when we got her. So I was able to run in and say hi to so many cute friends as they were playing. Nothing makes me happier than seeing people enjoying what I teach.

Russ and I ran over to the beach club to grab lunch before they closed. It’s nice to come back to the same club over and over and for staff to know us. Tonight at dinner our waiter called us by our names, although he said, “You are the speaker, right?”

I told him, “I am always speaking, but I am the teacher.”

“Oh, yeah, MAHHHH JONGGG.”

Even the staff knows mah Jongg now. After lunch we went back to the main building and I ran into sweet Anne, U. She told me she came up to play mah Jongg, but couldn’t get in the game as there were too many people.

I have only been coming here a few years, but now Mah Jongg is so popular, there are not enough seats at mah Jongg. I credit Ruth E. with this whole craze. She is the mastermind behind mah Jongg here and is the one who brought me.

I am eternally grateful because I love coming to Lyford, where we are known, and treated so well. The friends I have made here are so dear. I am looking forward to a fun Mah Jongg week!

The best part is Russ and I have the day off tomorrow just to play, until it is time to greet the students at the welcome cocktail party. It’s like a whole day of vacation!

Breaking the Rules Too

I love that Stephen Colbert did an end run around the sycophants who run CBS these days. James Talarico certainly got more attention because CBS forbade him, than he would have if he had just been a regular guest on Colbert.

For over a decade the great orange one has been doing whatever he wanted. He ignored decorum and broke all the rules. It’s time that everyone else stops playing by the rules.

The funny part is Talarico is a Presbyterian seminarian. Presbyterians are the writers of the rules. Our system of government is based on the Presbyterian book of order. We are rule followers and believers in everyone having a chance to weigh in and discuss before decisions are made.

I feel the likes of the Stephen Colbert understand that there is not just one way of doing things. If you are going to try and silence him on your network, there are other vehicles out there that will amplify his voice.

The far right broke the rules and now they are not going to like when everyone else follows suit. It’s time to take back the microphone and speak the truth.

February 17, a Very Special Day

I have always held February 17 as special day because it is my dearest friend Suzanne’s birthday. Sometimes I get to be with her to celebrate, but this year she is half way around the world on a trip of a lifetime with her sweet husband Steve.

I know she is having a great time, but I can’t wait to see her in person to wish her such big birthday love.

Turns out her birthday is special for other reasons. Carter, who is her Godchild, called today to tell me she got a promotion at work.

It is also the Chinese new year, the year of the fire horse! It means rapid and big changes. I pray that the changes are good as we are due.

Today is also Fat Tuesday. As Lent begins tomorrow with Ash Wednesday.

It is also two other sorority sister’s of mine and Suzanne’s birthday too, Rena and Lisa. So February 17, which has been an important day for me for the last 47 years is even more important this year.

Turning Into My Grandparents

When I was little and would visit my paternal grandparents I noticed that kids ate different breakfasts from my grandparents. My grandad always had a small allbran cereal and prune juice. My grandmother often had stewed prunes and a cup of coffee.

Once I was offered the allbran and prune juice. Once I tried them. Only once. I never liked allbran after that and prune juice was more like motor oil to me. I tasted my grandmother’s stewed prunes, once, and they were not much more of a hit.

My grandmother was a good country cook. She could make biscuits in her sleep and her caramel cake was legendary. She made bacon sandwiches for us for breakfast. I did not understand why she and my grandfather ate those other inedible things.

That is until I got to be almost social security eligible. Now I eat prunes, through dried not stewed, as my dessert. I wish l liked allbran, because lord knows I could use it. I still have not succumbed to prune juice.

I never asked my grandmother why they ate those horrible things, but I am thankful I did not have to “the regularity” conversation with her. She was a straight shooter and would not have held back in describing it to me.

One example of that is at her 50th wedding anniversary party, when she overheard my mother asking me if I was going to marry the boy I was dating at the time, my grandmother piped in, “For god sakes, don’t get married. It’s 50 years of misery.”

I am glad I didn’t listen to her about marriage, but I am in her prune camp now. I just wish she taught me how to make her caramel cake.

I’m NOT the Webmaster

Russ has not been feeling well this weekend. He has been traveling a lot for work and has more so I wanted him to lay low this weekend and get better. While he was “not doing anything,” he worked on my website. He does everything when it comes to my website. I told him someday he should show me how so I could update classes, but so far that has not happened.

One of the things he did was add a place where students could submit comments about my classes. He did this after one lovely student wrote me a nice note. Since he is a marketer he thinks testimonials are important. So now there is a new section called FUN WITH DANA. And at the bottom Of the page is a form where people can submit a comment.

I love his optimism that all the comments are going to be fun. He reminded me that he controls which comments get posted. I told him if I got bad comments I might want to post those too, just for transparency.

Recently I have discovered students that I taught beginner mah Jongg to, just last year, are teaching classes and have websites that make it sound like they have been teaching mah Jongg for 30 years. A website can say anything anyone wants. Things on a website don’t have to true.

I would rather have what everyone says, than some white washed version. The one thing you get from me is honesty because I am too old to remember things that are not true.

If you have taken classes from me feel free to find the Fun With Dana tab on the top of the home page and submit a comment. As long as it’s acceptable to Russ, it might get posted. I may never know what gets submitted since my IT department controls all that. Being able to manage my own website is probably above my pay grade.

http://www.learnmahjongg.com

Heart on My Sleeves

One could say I wear my heart on my sleeve. But it’s not the coming at you kind of way. To know I love you you are going to have to notice when I’m walking out the door. Not permanently walking out the door, just the, “I’ve got things to do, places to go, people to meet,” walking out the door.

I’ll be walking back in. I’ll have stories to share and an ear to listen to yours. Valentine’s Day is just a regular day in the “I love you everyday life we lead here.”

It’s the going down stairs to clean out the dishwasher only to discover it has already been done without any fanfare. It’s the folding the laundry and even putting it away and no trophy was expected. It’s the fact that he always gives me two valentines cards that are printed on think card stock with liners and sometimes a singing monkey, and I only give one .99¢ Trader Joe’s card, but the words are equally meaningful.

It’s that we both put the same valentines reference in our cards from our first valentines together 34 years ago. And that I will never get a camera lens for Valentine’s Day again. But what I love most is that we still laugh at the same stories and love watching this old house together, even if we have seen that episode before.

After 34 years, it’s great to love the little moments together, over and over again.

I Appreciate a Sweet Note

I don’t have a boss. There is no HR department to give me a job review. I don’t even have any employees to do a 360° feed back with me. What I do have are students, but they don’t even have a rate my teacher app to give me a grade. What I do know is that my students are customers. Usually my true feed back is when people come back and take more classes from me or recommend me to their friends.

Now lots of my students say kind things to me, or tell me they like class. They aren’t getting grades so it is not brown nosing. But they are mostly well raised, kind southerners so they are programmed to be polite people.

Every once in a while someone will write me an email or a note and it is usually very heart felt. Now I know someone could write me a terrible note, and if they want to tell me some feed back, I would like to hear it. But when I get a really sweet note it means the world to me. These notes are the nicest job reviews I ever get.

This week as I was leaving class one student handed me a valentine card in a red envelope with some candy in it. I put it in my purse and opened it when I got home. It was such a dear sweet note that really touched me so. I have crossed her name out so her friends, if they read this, won’t know it was her. I don’t publish this to illicit compliments, but rather to say that going to the trouble to write me, is so meaningful to me. I really appreciate and cherish it.

I share this to encourage others to write notes to people you appreciate. It may be the only feed back they are getting and it is so joyful to hear when you delight people.

Not Rocket Science

This week I was teaching a lovely groups of women in Burlington. As I was going back and forth I passed by the outlet mall each day. I decided I would stop and do a tiny bit of shopping as I need some smaller clothes.

For the record I hate shopping. I hate looking. I tire of the whole situation very quickly. You would think that I would like shopping more in a smaller body, but that is not the case. Having many more options is much worse for me. I am much more picky about how things fit. They must be perfect now.

I am uninterested in having a lot of anything. Just enough of right things are all I want.

Since I was uncertain of exactly what size I am I needed to go to real stores to try things on. I went to the first store (J Crew) and picked some things out. A nice women working at the store offered to take them to a dressing room that I eventually found and tried things on. The sales associate disappeared. I would have liked to try on one pair of pants in two sizes smaller than I first picked out, but since there was no one to go get them I ended up just buying one pair that fit well and not getting two different pants.

I went to another store (Banana Republic), and there were no customers in the store, but two sales associates with head phones on were standing together. As I walked in they both turned away from me and faced the shelves they were standing in front of. Neither of them said a word to me.

I started to look at the clothes. One of the two headsetted women walked by me and did her very best to not look me in the face or speak to me. I continued looking around and rounded a corner just at the second associate was walking across the store, not more than six feet away from me. She turned away from me in silent ignoring.

I decided not to even bother trying anything on and left the store without a word to either of the employees who had gone as far in their careers as they ever will.

I walked across the sidewalk to Tommy Hilfiger. There was one other shopper in the store, but just one. I headed to the back of the store where I noticed a sweater folder working. She saw me, but did not say anything to me. I picked up a shirt, holding it up. It was not right so I carefully refolded it and placed in neatly back in the pile from whence it came. I continued looking, without ever being greeted or offered any help. At this point I was not going to spend any money in a store where not one worker could summon even a greeting.

At this point this shopping trip was just turning into a mystery shopping experience where I wanted to see how much or little employees could do for me. I went into Chicos. Most of the clothes in Chicos are not my style, but at this point I was just experimenting. As soon as I was in the store, a woman came up and said Hi and told me her name and asked me mine. She asked me if I was looking for anything specific and if she could help me. I told her I was just looking, but appreciated her offer.

I did find a blouse I liked and she took it to a dressing room. It turned out to be great so I told her I was going to buy it. She introduced me to the women running the cash register who took over the transaction in a friendly way. She asked my phone number and discovered that I was entitled to a $50 coupon if I spent $41 more. This would make the blouse I was buying $9 cheaper and give me a $41 item for free. She then left the register and helped me find two tanks that qualified for this deal. Chaching.

Last stop was tried and true Talbots. A faceless sales associate mumbled a greeting when I came in and that was the last I heard or saw of them. I tried on three pairs of pants that were all fine, but I decided they were uninspiring and did not want to give them any money for no service.

In my one hour of shopping I may have seen about seven different customers in the whole place. One would think that any potential customer would be cherished. That was not my experience, except at Chicos. Banana Republic and Tommy Hilfiger were the worst respectfully.

I may need some clothes, but those places will never sell me any. It’s no wonder I hate shopping. These may have been outlets where service is limited, but these people were almost anti – service. Just say Hi to customers. IT’s not rocket science.

NO Super G for Me

Watching the Super G skiing at the Olympics makes my stomach hurt. I grew up in Connecticut to southern parents who did not ski. So I did not do down hill skiing until I went to boarding school. We did cross country ski at our house since we had many acres of woods with trails at our house. But down hill skiing was a different animal.

The first time I went downhill was with Mrs. Elmore, my math teacher. I think it was even night skiing at a local mountain. I went to go to ski school and was told to ski down this tiny incline so they could decide which class to out me in. I had watched a lot of wide world of sports skiing and just did what I had watched. Big mistake. I emulated a skier, which I was not.

I was put in a level that was above my paid grade. I had never used a lift and immediately had to use a tow rope lift. I think I fell down multiple times just trying to get up the small hill.

Going down the hill was no better. I remember no being able to figure out how to stand up when I fell down. What a mess.

I eventually did learn to ski. I got skis for Christmas that year. But I never loved it. My fear of heights, which I discovered the first time I looked down a black diamond trail, never went away.

Watching the super G tonight on the Olympics makes my stomach hurt. I am so glad I never have to downhill ski again. I am a much better ice skater.

Pampered Piggies

Well before Christmas I bought some of cashmere socks as Christmas presents. I was able to get them half price so I bought a bunch. I gave most of them as presents, but apparently not all of them. I found the extras among the mess of boxes and bags still in my office. I decided I would keep them for myself. I have never owned cashmere socks. I normally would not buy anything so luxurious for myself.

Regular old sock are fine for me. That’s what I used to think. That is before we have had these very cold weeks and I was wearing this soft as anything warm socks. I have never loved anything so much. I also still would not buy these things full price no matter how much I love them. But I am considering buying them again at half price if I ever see them.

I hate that I have spoiled myself. Not only are they expensive, but I have to wash them by hand. It’s not that much trouble, but it’s something. At least I have less chance of loosing one when I hand wash.

I can hardly wait for spring, when I can go back to no socks. I want to save these cashmere socks to make it through another year or two. I don’t want my feet to go on strike and refuse to wear anything but cashmere. I like my feet, but I also want to be able to afford to retire.

Bionic Woman Upgrade

Last summer I was staying with a friend who is a couple of years older than I am. I said that I thought my hearing was getting worse. She revealed to me hat she had been wearing hearing aids for ten years. I had no idea. She then told me that she went to a fabulous audiologist in Cary, who she has sent many friends to see.

I didn’t call the audiologist right away. Then around Christmas I thought, I better go see her and get a baseline test. Well, my baseline showed I certainly did have hearing loss. So I went ahead and ordered hearing aids.

Today I went to get them and be taught all about how they work and make sure they fit well. WOW. They are great. I hardly remembered I was wearing them. I certainly can hear better. The real test will be at garden club tomorrow when I’m in a room with lots of people.

‘I really love that they pair with my phone and have a microphone so I can walk around and talk and look like a crazy bag woman. Russ said they sounded great. Unfortunately he is not home to talk to my from the other room so I can see how well they really work.

I do have the TV on a volume that is about one third as much as I needed before. I don’t mind needing something like hearing aids. It’s better than not being here at all. I have a feeling I will still be loud. I was that way before my hearing got worse so I still will probably have teacher voice. I will just be able to hear my students who are quiet.

Super?

I refused to make Super Bowl food today. It just doesn’t end well, so I ignored that the game was on today. Russ and I ate our regular dinner and didn’t turn the game on until well into the first quarter. After dinner Russ asked me if I wanted an orange. I said I would wait until after the half time show. I am hoping there are no good food commercials.

The one thing I have noticed about the game so far is the obnoxious horn sound when the Seahawks make a good play. It sounded like those horns they blew in South Africa during a World Cup a decade ago. I hope this is not something that is going to take over here.

Of the commercials I have seen I liked the Redfin Rocket mortgage one about “Won’t you help your neighbor” the best.

The game feels one sided so far, but let’s be honest…I’m just waiting for the halftime show.

Blueberry Muffins for Presbyterians

If you are coming to the newcomers class at Westminster Presbyterian tomorrow you are getting the Blueberry muffins I baked today. And while you are enjoying those muffins you can wish Chris Tuttle a happy birthday.

Since we had to cancel class two weeks in a row due to snow, tomorrow is our first class. I don’t think that when Russ set up the class schedule he had Chris on the rotation for tomorrow. Sorry he has to come to work and come class on his birthday.

Being an adult means that sometimes you have to work on your birthday. So if you know Chris wish him a happy birthday. He will certainly eat a few muffins as is his practice when I bring baked goods to these classes. At least this time he will know they were baked in his honor.

Puppy Play Date

For my first day off in two weeks I had a fun puppy play date with Shay and Dash Riprock Pottenger. Dash is Shay’s distant cousin and a most handsome boy.

As a seven month old puppy, Dash still has lots of energy. So a visit from the old lady Shay is just the thing to wear Dash out and teach him how to behave. It was also a great chance for me to catch up with Sara.

Dash had recently had a haircut and looked like a movie star compared to the scruffy Shay,who gets groomed next week.

After a lot of running in circles Shay was exhausted and hopefully Dash was too. It takes a lot to wear a puppy out. It takes nothing to use up Shay’s reserves.

Your Friend is Also My Friend

We are more connected than any of us know. Before Facebook, Instagram or any of those other social media apps it was harder to tell if your friends were friends with each other. But even with those connectors, we don’t always know if our friends are friends. I rarely look at mutual friend lists.

Chances are your friends are more connected to each other than you ever imagined. We all know people who are super connectors. They are well traveled, well educated, uber extroverts who make friends easily. Those friends are generous and happy to introduce people to each other. When people meet them they quickly feel like they are someone you have known a very long time.

I have more than a handful of those uber connector friends. One of my favorite things is when my super connectors meet each other and become friends, creating a 3-d spider web of friends.

I meet so many people teaching mah Jongg. I don’t have time to discover which friends we have in common. But sometimes they bring it to my attention when they figure it out.

One of the best ways I discover connections is when I learn where people are from. Today at the last moments of a three day class I discovered that my student, Lousie, was from Kinston. That unlocked an avalanche of connections we had. Those connections created an instant bond.

I wish I had figured out this connection on the first day rather the last. I wish there was some connection machine that would tell me all the people we have in common the second I meet you. It would aid in the short hand to know each other.

Perhaps I just need to wear the photos of my uber connector friends on my shirt. It would greatly quicken the discovery of who are people I want to be friends with. If you are my friend’s friend I am probably going to like you.

Out of Synch

Watching day three of the Jeopardy Tournament of Champions. I am quite annoyed that the sound is not synching with video. So the sound is way before the person is actually talking. I have to not watch the people’s faces and just listen to sound.

This is one of the few times I am happy to see the commercials. I start to think I am losing my mind when things are out of synch. Then just when I thought the commercials were OK, I notice they too are out of synch.

I am going back to needlepointing while watching TV just to not lose my mind.

Best Surprise

I love when I get a surprise. I am teaching two beginner classes at the governor’s Club in Chapel Hill. When they first called me to teach it was only going to be one class, but they had such a long waitlist that we added a second class.

I never saw the class list of who was coming. I had a delightful group of students for the morning class. After they left I had a little lunch break until the afternoon group started trickling in. I didn’t know any of the people in the morning class and it was looking that way in the afternoon, until right on the strike of one Ellie Kim arrived!

Ellie is Ashley’s mother. Ashley is Carter’s best friend from childhood. Ashley is my bonus daughter. She calls me Dma, for Dana Mother.

So it was such a fun class to have Ellie in. We took a photo together to send the girls, who are now grown and living in their respective big northeast cities.

While the class was working on an exercise I texted the girls the photos and got back the cutest responses from them. Made my day!

Miss having time with my girls nearby together.

The Driving Wasn’t Bad

Today was the day I had to get home. I finished classes in the mountains yesterday. Had one last celebratory dinner. The staff and the guests had all hunkered down at High Hampton so we did not have much information about the roads.

I needed to get home because I have six classes this week in Chapel Hill starting first thing in the morning. Russ didn’t want me to leave too early so that the sun could do it’s work on any black ice. That being said I still woke up at five in the morning.

I had a leisurely lie in, playing my NYT games, reading my email and answering inquiries. After one last yummy breakfast, I was on the road at 9:45. There were a few snowy/icy spots as I left Cashiers, but for the most part the roads were fine.

The good thing is there were very few people driving. I drove straight home without a stop and the worst road conditions were right at the end of our driveway. Russ told me the postman had gotten stuck there earlier and he and two other guys had to push the mail truck up the hill.

It was 41° by the time I got home so hopefully the left over snow in our driveway and street will melt soon. Back out early in the morning to teach two classes tomorrow. I hope the drive is just as easy.

Sooner Rather than Later

It was a special weekend at High Hampton. A truly fabulous group of strangers came together to learn, enjoy being snowed-in and pampered, now leaving as friends.

Some people are afraid of snow, but for the strong souls who aren’t they reaped the rewards. We had such a magical time playing, eating, laughing. It may have been cold outside, but we were having too much fun to notice.

As a teacher, I can’t thank the wonderful staff at High Hampton enough. They came together to stay at the inn, hunkering down with the guests to ensure that we all had the time of our lives. It was a skeleton crew who worked morning, noon and night ensuring our every need was cared for.

Haley and Devon waited on us at breakfast, lunch and dinner, multiple days in a row. I have no idea the names of the chefs in the kitchen, but every bite was memorable.

Bekky and Reilly were so helpful getting the equipment and rooms ready. Their smiling faces never showed any stress of what running an inn in a blizzard might entail. When I mention my room got cold in the night, since it was 5° outside, they put a space heater and an extra fluffy blanket in my, now toasty, room.

Thanks to Molly Harris for taking such fabulous photos this weekend.

The front desk staff, porters and drivers always made sure the fire places were roaring. They even cleaned all the snow off my car, just to drive it up to load my mah Jongg equipment in it tonight.

The best part of the weekend was getting to know Andrea who came in from Blackberry. She came to every class and was the best side kick I could have ever asked for. At dinner tonight I told her I felt like we have been friends for six years.

As for my students, who are now my friends. Coming to High Hampton to learn is so much more than taking a class. We get to share meals together, tell stories and laugh so much. Thanks to all for a most memorable weekend. I look forward to doing all again “sooner rather than later.” And if you know me, sooner is now, everything else is later.