Movie Pass Sucks

When Movie Pass first came out it seemed too good to be true. Pay $9.95 a month and you can go to see a movie everyday for free. That was too good. They were banking on people not going everyday. Like me. I only went once or twice a month.

Then they changed their plan, and the new plan was still fine with me, three movies a month. That was still was a savings. So I kept the service. Until today.

I was going to the movies with my friends Lynn and ELizabeth. It was the first time Lynn has been out of the house that was not the hospital so we were excited. I got to the theatre that is one Movie Pass services. I tried to check in for our movie, A Simple Favor, and the Movie Pass app said it was not showing at that theatre. Sorry app, you are wrong. I tried to do the chat on the app to get Movie Pass to approve my movie, but the Chat kept crashing.

As I was holding up the line and could not get anything to work I bought a ticket. I sent an email picture of my ticket and explanation to the Movie Pass email and they said, “No Dice.”

Well Movie Pass, “No Dice to you.” I canceled my subscription. When your site does not work in the two ways they have for me to use the service I have paid for you are cheating and stealing.

So Mitch Lowe, CEO of Movie Pass, good luck getting another job, you have failed miserably at Movie Pass.

Oh, the movie was great.

No Joking

When are old men going to learn to stop joking about sexual assault? Today we hit a new all time low when South Carolina Republican Representative Ralph Norman, who is running for re-election, opened a debate with his Democratic rival with very bad joke.

“Did, ya’ll hear this late test late-breaking news from the Kavanaugh hearings? Ruth Bader Ginsburg came out that she was groped by Abraham Lincoln.”

Wow! Ageism and sexism in two little sentences. Not only is it never a good idea to joke about sexual assault, but to use a national treasure such as Justice Ginsburg is a new low and to open a debate with that… tone deaf is not even close enough to describe this guy.

I am wondering if RBG has a case against this guy? Certainly Abraham Lincoln might. It is time for him to rise from the dead and shake some sense into this guy and anyone who laughed at the joke, even nervously.

If we don’t stand up to people when they say stupid things how will they learn? Of course this “old boy network” who not just joke about sexual assault, but turn a blinds eye to it, need to get their butts kicked out of their roles in power.

It has happened in Hollywood and media circles and now it needs to happen in government. Just because we have a President who was recorded saying he can grab women and still was elected is no reason to ever let that happen again.

If you are a woman, have a mother, sister, daughter, grandmother, wife or girl friend and want them to know we are a nation that cares about their protection don’t vote for anyone, of any party, who does not take this issue seriously.

I Am Mean

My father, who has known me my entire life, says that I am, “one of the toughest people he knows.” Sometimes he says I am one of the “meanest people he knows.” He is not wrong. When I worked with him I was a lot meaner. I was tough on everyone.

As I have had aged, had less professional responsibility and fewer hormones I have softened, just a little. People who get to know me superficially have no idea how mean I can be. They probably never will because I have no reason to be tough on them. My normal default is funny, which might mask meanness. So to some people I appear to just be fun loving. I think I need some sort of sign warning people, “I may appear to be all laughs, but don’t test me.”

Today, someone who does not really know me said something inappropriate to me in public and my natural tough demeanor shot right back at her. I used a bad word, which was unfortunate and I am sorry for that, because I think it took away from my making the point that what she said was inappropriate and out of place.

Earlier in life I hardly put up with anything without corrective action, but as I have aged my fuse has gotten longer. If the explosion is bigger now it might be because it usually includes past sins and not just the current issue.

I wish I was not so mean and so blunt. On the other hand, sometimes people need to be told when they are out of place. At least those who witnessed my reaction know I am mean.

Asian Cucumbers

Making an asian slaw with chicken for Mah Jongg Lunch tomorrow. To spice it up I am adding these cucumbers to the mix. They will marinate overnight so might be a little pickled by lunch.

1 English cucumber sliced as thinly as you can

1/3 c. Rice wine vinegar

2 T. Soy sauce

1 T. Lime juice

1 garlic clove, minced

1/2 inch of ginger, grated

2 T. Sugar

1/2 t. Sesame oil

Ground black pepper

Red pepper flakes

Mix everything together except the cucumber and them pour it over the cucumber in as small a container as will hold it all. Mix well, cove and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to over night.

Friends With Drones

Last year we got a new roof on the old section of our house. The roofers who had put the roof on the addition twenty two years ago came back and said their original work was still good and we only needed the front. So we let them replace the old roof with a new one. The old roof had not had a leak, but I didn’t want to wait for that reason to replace it.

Fast forward and a couple of months ago I noticed a wrinkle in the kitchen ceiling. Then some paint in the guest bathroom ceiling peeling. Then one day in the upstairs hall I heard dripping. I called the roofers. They came out and found a torn shingle and said that was it.

No…a week later it rained outside and so it rained inside. They came back. Three nail pops, That was it. No… more rain, another lose shingle. Russ and I kept saying it was something in the valley based on the attic evidence. Not where they looked.

So now we have the hurricane rain. Of course all weekend when the roofers are closed the water poured in five different rooms. Came back out this morning. When I showed the guys the wet rafters their response was, “Shit.” I’d say so. They couldn’t figure out it out because it was raining too much to climb on the roof.

They came back during the break in the rain and finally found a hole right where we said it was. New membrane. Please god, let this be the answer.

I wanted to get a good look at the roof, but did not want to go on the roof. I put a call out on Facebook for someone local with a drone. I had four volunteers right away. My friend Laurie called and said her husband Bryan could come right over. Nothing better than a man with a toy.

Bryan expertly flew the camera wielding device up above my house and took video and photos while I scoured every shingle from his iPhone screen. I have to say the roof looked good. Hopefully the latest fix is the last fix. I changed all the towels in the five rooms where water had come in the house so I can tell if any new drips appear.

Thanks to Laurie and Bryan and all the other volunteers. Using a drone to look at your house from a bird’s eye view is so helpful. No one should ever go up a ladder to their roof unless they are professional.

I hope all your homes survived this crazy rain. There has been so much flooding and the one thing I know, water always wins.

Signature Color

I am sick of rain, but I am not complaining since it is nothing compared to those who are dealing with flooding. So as not to write about the storm for yet another day I would rather laugh about something so ridiculous that I heard the other day while playing Mah Jongg.

A friend who wishes to remain unnamed for obvious reasons told us about someone she knows who has a “signature color.” On first blush, there is nothing too absurd about that. Don’t most of us have a color we like more than all the others? But that is not what this person means when she says she has a signature color. No, this woman not only loves her signature color, and uses in it all the things she does, both personally and works wise, but she claims this color as her own, like no one else can use the color.

When my unnamed friend told us this I practically fell off my chair. It sounded like something a third grader would do, claiming that only she could wear red and no one else.

This woman’s signature color is aqua, the universal color that looks good on everyone. I am thankful I don’t live near her because I would hate to be wearing that color at a party and have her come up and tell me, “You are wearing MY signature color.”

I am certain my comeback would be something like, “B#$@*, no one owns a color.”

If people are going to start claiming things like colors we are going to have more than a few fights. Colors, sunshine, chocolate chip cookies, these all belong to us all. There is no claiming them as yours and yours alone. Signature color, get a life.

For All The Craziness

Last week the lines at the grocery store were nuts. No one in Durham could buy a battery or a gallon of water. People who could afford it were stocking up in survivalist-like ways.

I was less crazy. I did fill my freezer with bags of ice and a couple of bags of water to create ice blocks in case we lost power. But I did not stock up on food. I figured I would have to eat what was in my freezer if we lost power, so why buy canned food I may never eat. I also filled my car up with gas, but I never waited in one gas line.

Was I foolish not to do more? Turns out, so far, that Durham was spared. Granted the rain and potential flooding could still be two or three days away, but I feel like my house on the top of the hill is relatively safe.

With all the hype for so many days in advance, by today I am just over the whole Florence thing. I am actually getting really bored. So much so I cleaned the grout in my bathroom today as if it is going to be photographed for a magazine, which it is not.

Russ went to Home Depot to get something and said that if we wanted to stock up on batteries, generators, rakes, paper towels, lanterns or water they are all restocked. I passed on it all. Actually I am hoping that the people who evacuated from down east will go to Home Depot and stock up before they go home, because from the looks of things on TV it may be a huge mess back at the beach.

The real worry now is the flooding along rivers. On the news they were showing the river levels and the expected flood levels. There was one for a river in Fayetteville that had a prediction of 65 feet of water over the regular river level. Now that is a disaster, and waiting for it to happen has got to be the worst. How does someone who does not live particularly near the river know where 65 feet worth of water will go?

Then there are the trees that will fall over because the ground is too wet to hold them up. So I know that we may have dodged a bullet here in Durham, but a large swath of North Carolina has not.

My Food Bank, the Food Bank of CENC has three branches in already hard hit areas, Wilmington, New Bern and Greenville and the Sandhills Branch may also end up being bad, as well as the Raleigh Headquarters. I can tell you from past disasters the Food Bank ends up helping people affected by hurricanes for months and months after the event is over. If you want to help people in need the Food Bank is a reliable agency with infrastructure and local experts already on the ground. $1 donated is turned into five meals through the Food Bank. To donate go online to www.foodbankcenc.org.

I may be bored with Florence, but I fear that we have not yet begun to know what our state is dealing with, and by the time we do, the news will be sick of this story and will have moved on.

Storm?

I don’t want to write much about the weather and jinx ourselves, so I will let these two screen shots of the hurricane map do the talking for me. I’ll just say, Durham is a great place to be, today. Of course the weather is supposed to last for a few days so if we get five days of continuous rain things can change. Just know that right now, Russ, Shay and I are all good.

Maybe the fact that Russ is home is the key. Since he has never been here for a bad weather event, be it summer or winter, perhaps just his presence makes it not so bad. He was in Boston for the last two days. Yesterday when all the other airlines were canceling their flights into RDU Delta was holding strong. Russ took the 7:30 PM flight and got in at 9:45. He said the pilots did an excellent job of feathering the plane between wind gusts. I was just happy the smart car made it home from the airport.

In true fashion Russ went to the office today. He certainly had an easy commute since no one else was out. So it has been a non-event day and I hope it will be a non-event weekend.

My friend Lynn has been in the hospital for the last couple of days and while you are praying for Florence to go away and everyone to be safe from the storm, throw a little prayer in for Lynn to feel better and come home.

I hope to all my North and South Carolina peeps that you are comfortable, dry and have power!

Florence Hurry Up and Get Over With

Growing up summering at Pawleys Island we heard lots and lots of stories about Hurricane Hazel and the folk lore of the Grey Man, who somehow warned people on the island to leave due to the storm. See, back then there was no weather technology to track storms or even know they were coming. Hell, there weren’t even phones on Pawleys. Hazel did major damage to Pawleys and is still talked about today as an Island changing event.

Then there was hurricane Hugo in 1989 which did major damage to Pawleys. For years as you drove down Route 17 you could see trees that were snapped in half at about the 12 foot height and an occasional boat stuck high in the tree a mile inland. Technology had progressed since Hazel, so people knew to evacuate back then, but so many houses we lost, including my cousins Johnny and Flo.

And now here we are with hurricane Florence, nicknamed Flo. Technology had advanced to such a degree that we have so much information days and days ahead of the actual event. When I was in Massachusetts Monday they were calling this the storm of the century for North Carolina. I have heard that before with practically every storm. Now I am not down playing the seriousness, but I am hoping for the best.

The thing that gets me is how the news hypes everyone up . “Get your storm preparedness kits ready! This includes water for three days, batteries of every type, flash lights, power chargers, food, cash, full gas tanks.” The list goes on and on.

When I went to the grocery store on Tuesday, three days before the storm really is getting slightly close to us, people were buying crazy amounts of water. What in the world. Do none of these people have containers at home they can fill up with water from the tap? For as many storms as I have endured we have never lost our city water. Why don’t they say on the news that you need water if you are on a well?

After a week of preparations I am ready for this storm to come and go. I was wishing it would not come at all, but it looks like something is coming. The coast of North Carolina is already starting to flood. Please pray the damage is not too terrible and no lives are lost.

As for me, I have Shay, Russ is coming home tonight since Delta Airlines is still flying into RDU, we have food, water, batteries and flash lights. What I, going to do with them all I don’t know. If we lose power I don’t need much light. I will just go to sleep.

So stay safe all my North and South Carolina friends. If you aren’t ready now you were under a rock some where.

My Aunt Susan

My mother is the oldest sister of three girls. Her next sister down was Susan and they were only about a year and a half apart in age. Their youngest sister is Eddie and she is much younger that my mother and Susan. Together Susan and my mother were each other’s childhood memory keeper. Being so close in age they experienced their young life in unison.

Recently Susan had not been well and it was very distressing for my mother. Today when my mom called Hank, Susan’s husband, he shockingly told my mother that Susan passed away late last night. Although she had been sick, my mother had thought she would have time to see her one more time. But Susan had fallen and broke her hip on Sunday. If you aren’t well a broken hip is almost always the beginning of the end.

I am heart broken for my mother. She still has her youngest sister Eddie, but not the one who knew what life was like in my mother’s childhood years.

Susan was a sweet Aunt. She was always kind and as far as I can remember never raised her voice. She is the sister I look most like.

When I was a kid Susan and Hank lived in Greenwich village in a garden apartment owned by their Episcopal Church. It was so fun to go and visit them and go to Azuma, a kind of hippie gift shop in the village, that was near by.

I am sending out love to my Uncle Hank and their two sons, James and Steven. And extra love to my Aunt Eddie and especially my Mom and my sisters. Both my parents have lost their younger siblings who they were so close to. I count myself lucky to have both my parents, but know it is sad for them to lose their contemporaries.

One thing that brings me comfort is knowing that my Aunt Susan, who was a faithful believer, is in heaven with her mother, my sweet Grandmother, Mima. I know they will keep watch on my mother.

Mom’s Back To School

When I was in Massachusetts earlier in the week my friends told me to stay because of the impending hurricane. I didn’t even consider not coming home, not because I want to endure another storm, but because it is the start of the fall season for things I am involved with. So tonight I had the first Garden Club meeting of the year and I also had the first Mentor/mentee game for the bridge year.

Yes, I need to get things ready around the house for the coming monster storm. I had to do some grocery shopping since Russ had eaten down the leftovers. I also needed gas for my car, but those things took a back seat to the new “school year” of meetings. For me missing the start the new year puts me off on a bad foot, so much so I will head into the storm.

So now that I am home I am praying the storm is not the storm of a century the news is touting it to be. Mostly because Shay and I are riding it out alone. As is the trend, Russ will be on a business trip to Boston and will miss the storm. He has systematically missed every snow, ice and hurricane we have ever had at our house in North Carolina. Once, when Fran hit, I was with him in Italy so we missed it together, but other than that I have been here to face the music.

I am happy that Russ is working, so going off to Boston is a good thing. I think I can handle this alone. It is Shay that will be distraught that he is gone since she doesn’t like big weather anyway.

I am not letting the hurricane get in the way of the new year. Tomorrow we have Mah Jongg, then I have a church meeting. Hurricane Shmurricane.

Life Above the Clouds

After 12 days away from home I am ready to get home. I had a perfectly lovely last day today with Stori. We went over to Gloutser, MA to look for a place for breakfast and ended up at Lobsta Land, the same place we went for dinner last year. Monday is not a good day to go out since so many places are closed.

After breakfast we went back to her house to bid some bridge hands as practice before it was time for me to head to the airport. John, her husband came up from his office and told me I should just stay since I was heading home to a big hurricane. In some ways he’s right. Why should I go into the eye of the storm, but being away for so long I am ready to just face the storm and eat with it. I say that now, let’s see if I regret this decision come Friday.

As I drove away from Stori’s It started to rain, half way to Logan airport I got a text saying my flight was delayed an hour and a half. Seems like this might be the foreshadowing of my week.

Once I got to the terminal and got settled I was watching the storm outside the window and texting with Carter about a cold she felt was coming on. On the ground things were dark, and stormy. It made the time feel later than the 5:15 it was.

We finally boarded our flight and departed from Boston. As we climbed through the clouds the cabin was dark and I could hardly needlepoint. The plane shook as we cut a path through the angry clouds. Then, after a few minutes a small ray of light cut a small stripe through the interior of the cabin. The shaking subsided and I could start to see the tops of the clouds out my little porthole of a window.

A little more attitude and we were skiing on top of the thick white clouds. The light was illuminating the whole plane. We continued to assess and soon we were high above the clouds and the sun shone as brightly as a June morning. I felt like I had awoken to a new day. The sky up here is bright blue with white, link and grey clouds carpeting the earth below us.

I feel as if it is a welcoming sunshine to go home. Like Dorothy following the yellow brick road. I have been lucky with nice weather during my whole trip until today and that was hardly bad. I am praying this hurricane Florence makes a move east and saves North Carolina from nay devastation. If only I could raise the state of North Carolina above the clouds. It is beautiful, calm and peaceful up here.

Thank God For Good Friends

Since my job as Mom was done with Carter at school I had one day of activity to fill before going home tomorrow. Thankfully friends came to my rescue. Stori, my wonderful Walker’s friend, invited me to spend the night. Since I was coming to the north shore to see her I also called my college friend Janet and had lunch with her. I was thankful Janet was available because she is moving to Arizona and It is not a place I drive through regularly.

I woke up in Boston this morning and fall had clearly come to New England. When I left North Carolina eleven days go summer was in full swing. It has been hot, hot, hot in Maine and Massachusetts. I had packed all the right clothes for summer, shorts, sandles and t-shirts. But when the weather changed I was able to layer my clothes, but my feet were freezing. On my way to Manchester I stoped at a store and bought some closed toed shoes before going to meet Janet.

We had lunch at the same place we did last year when I came to visit. It was great to catch up, be it a very short visit. I also had a chance to see her daughter Sophia who just graduated from college in May. One of the bonuses of Carter going to college in Boston is that I thought it would give me a few years of being able to visit my Yankee friends. Now one of my dear ones won’t be a Yankee resident anymore. Of course our 40 friendship will still continue despite the change of location.

After I said goodbye to Janet I went off to Stori’s house. Stori and her husband John welcomed me and we settled in for an afternoon of Wimbledon tennis finals and needlepoint, at least for me and Stori. It was exactly what I needed. A nice afternoon of not going anywhere.

We watched the men’s final which went on and on. When one game took over twenty minutes I thought this match might take five hours. Thankfully the match was won in three sets and we went off for dinner.

Now we are back at their home, in our jammies, with a fire in the fireplace, watching a movie. This is exactly what I needed. Thank god for good friends who take me in and do all the things I like to do. It is so good that Carter came to Boston so I can see my friends.

One More Goodbye

When I left Carter at school last Sunday I did not have a moment of being sad, because I knew I was coming back through Boston and was going to see her again. Today I left Maine, with a bunch of bags of things I had picked up for Carter, blueberry soda, tomatoes, cheese curds… Arriving in Boston this weekend is a piece of cake compared to the crazy town that was move-in weekend. All the “No Parking”signs are down. There are no dead sofas discarded on the sidewalk. There are no crying mothers leaving their babies at college.

I was able to park in the lot across from Carter’s apartment. She came out to help me with the bags of things I brought her. “What is all this stuff?” Every college student needs capers.

I went back up to her apartment because I wanted to see it since her cute roommate Olivia had moved in. Olivia had been her roommate last semester so they already had a good living situation, but Olivia did not get to Boston until after I left last week. The girls had done a great job organizing all their stuff. Thank goodness they both like things to be clean.

Carter told me she was writing a paper and Olivia was at her job, so I checked into my hotel and took a shower before Carter walked down to meet me for dinner. We went to the Prudential Center and did a little shopping before Olivia got off work and we went to Oceanaire for dinner.

It was so nice to catch up with Olivia. The three of us had a lovely dinner and then grabbed a lyft back to my hotel first before the girls continued on to their place. Olivia asked me if I was coming back this semester and I said, “No.” I confirmed that I was not having breakfast with Carter and said goodbye to them as I got out of the car.

This goodbye is not as hard as putting her on the plane to Germany, but every time I say goodbye I know that my time with her is shorter and shorter. She is very happy at school this semester, loves her classes and professors. Especially likes her campus job as a mentor and TA. Loves her apartment and roommate. All these things are exciting and exactly what one wants for their child. I just wish my goodbye was not as I was getting out of the car without a hug. Growing up is hard on a Mother.

Practically a Local

I don’t know how this has happened, but I have come to my last full day in Maine. Warren and I have gone, gone, gone all week. Today was no different. Our MO has been to have one invitation each day and somehow we drag that out to a whole day out.

Today’s invitation was for lunch with my wonderful friend Wendie. Wendie and I first met in Washington, DC 34 years ago. She has met Warren on my previous visits so now they get along quite well.

Since coming to Maine involves too much eating Warren and I decided just to have a slice of toast this morning before walking the breakwater at Rockland. It is a my favorite place to walk because, not only is it beautiful and cool with a nice breeze across the water, but for some reason I never tire of walking the rocks. You have to pay very close attention to your steps so you don’t fall so I just don’t think about being tired. Since it is after Labor Day there we only seven or eight other people on the whole breakwater.

When we got to the lighthouse end Warren volunteered me to take a picture of a couple who were trying to take their own. After I got a few shots of them together they told us they will remember them forever since it was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary trip. We wished them well and gave them some recommendations of places to go. They asked if we were local and Warren said yes, and that I was practically a local.

After our walk we were off to Camden to lunch with Wendie at the popular Long Grain, an asian fusion place. It is a fabulous little restaurant in a beautiful space with just nine tables set far apart from each other and food that you might find in San Francisco. We had a lot of catching up to do and after we had dragged our lunch out as long as possible our server politely asked if we could let someone else have our table.

Warren, Wendie and I were having such a good time that we just went around the corner to Zoot coffee where we got a drink and monopolized the front corner table in the window and continued our gab fest. While we were in the window we saw Warren’s friend Sue, who runs the community breakfast I worked at Monday and invited her to sit with us. After more laughs, Sue had to go back to work but not minutes later her husband stopped in and joined our table.

At about hour four of our lunch date we saw the parking enforcement guy and we realized we had parked in two hour parking. So we all ran out of the coffee shop, calling to the parking guy in a friendly way, that we were going to our cars. Warren ran ahead and jumped in the car in case we were about to get a ticket, but the parking guy was a jovial sort and just smiled and waved as he walked by our cars.

So another day where we left the house and were gone all day with only one thing to do. But what could be better than sitting around visiting with friends?

Our lunch was so good we just skipped dinner and went to Dorman’s for ice cream. I have to admit that it is a miracle that we only had one visit to Dorman’s the whole trip. I wish Russ was here to enjoy it too. Next year! We are about to play one last game, Russ will be glad he missed that.

It is hard to believe that tomorrow I go back to Boston. My week in Maine feels shorter every year. Thanks to my friends here and especially to Warren who hosts me and lets me turn his quiet life upside down with lots of going places. I’ve been coming for so many years I am practically a local.

Finally Lobster

When I come to visit Warren there is very little relaxing and lots of moving about. Today was no different than the previous days, except I finally got some lobster. Isn’t that the reason to come to Maine? Sorry Warren.

Yesterday while we were out trekking about we went by Bayside, one of our favorite areas. As we were driving around the village of tiny Victorian cottages Warren spotted a for sale sign on a darling white gothic cottage. It was late in the afternoon so there was no way to get a chance to look at, but we stopped in the real estate office and asked about it. It had gone on the market ten minutes before.

Today we went back to look at it. It has a great unobstructed view of the water and some beautiful original 1910 glass windows with the wavy glass. Other than that it is in need of a total redo. The lot makes a postage stamp seem big, the need to move the house and create a new foundation is just the beginning. It is a four month a year house at best. All that being said I still ran the numbers, drew a new floor plan and tried to make it work. I called Russ about it, but it just does not make sense. It was a fun thought.

So now that I am done looking at houses I am going to actually be on vacation for one more day. Tonight Warren and I went to my favorite lobster shack in Rockland called Claws. When Claws first opened we wondered who would want to go eat on Route one, and sit outside next to the gravel parking lot on picnic benches? Little did we know it made the best food anywhere.

Warren is not a lobster eater, but he is a good sport about going with me. I had the best lobster roll that was nothing but lobster, no mayo, no butter, just lemon and sweet as can be lobster. Claws also knows something about chowder. The seafood chowder is mostly seafood and a thick soup that has a flavor that is lacking in most chowders. I don’t think it even has potatoes in it.

So I may not be getting a Maine house this week, but I did finally get lobster. Poor Warren really wanted me to buy this house so I don’t have to spend so much time at his house. Maybe when Carter graduates.

Maine Friends

Somehow with only one thing on our social calendar today, a lunch with my friends Sheppy and Dick Vann, Warren and I were gone from the house from 9:45 AM until 6:30 PM. So much for coming to Maine to relax.

Our plan was to meet Sheppy and Dick in Liberty Maine, at a new place, 51 Main, owned by the guy who owns Liberty Graphics, our favorite shirt printer. Since Russ, Carter and I used to go to Family Camp at Medomak in Washington, Maine, near Liberty, I asked Warren if we could drive that way to lunch. You know the answer, especially since I was driving.

The first place I was looking for in Washington was the Washington General store. It was not a store that was there when we went to Camp, but friend Sean, who sailed the big boat at Camp and was the carpenter and his wife Amy had told us that they were buying this big yellow barn at the cross roads of the two streets in Washington to open this store.

Warren and I had no trouble finding the store, which was now an attractive red. As we pulled in the parking lot I saw Sean and his father walking away from the store. I jumped from the car and called out, “Hey Sean! I’m Dana Lange.” He came over and gave me a hug and showed us the store. It was fabulous! Warren and I were so impressed with it all we were sorry we were not staying to eat lunch there. Sadly, Amy was at home, but Sean told me that Holly, who owned the Camp was still at camp.

We made a visit to Medomak our next stop. I walked in the main building without knocking and called out to Holly who was upstairs with her daughter Eliana. It was a huge treat to see them. As we were talking another camp friend Chelsea pulled up and screamed when she saw me. I love when I make people scream and not because I scare them. It was too short a visit, but we had to get to lunch.

Sheppy and Dick were waiting inside the restaurant and both looked fantastic. It is their last day in Maine, so I was thrilled we were able to make this work. Sheppy treated us to our lunch since I got her breakfast when I saw her in Nashville in July. It was hardly a fair trade. After telling lots of school stories, Sheppy wanted to show us the only octagonal post office in America, which was very cute, then we went into Liberty Graphics to buy T-shirts.

After Dick and Sheppy departed Warren and I went into the best used tool store in the country, Liberty tools. I never buy anything, but I like looking at all the old planers and saws. Since we were all the way in Liberty, we decided a trip to Belfast was next.

Belfast is my ground zero for quilting. The Fiddlehead artisan store is where last August I decided I wanted to make a quilt. It is hard to believe that now one year later I have made 4 king sized quilts, one twin, two baby quilts, one table runner and 32 placemats. I couldn’t help but return to the scene of the crime. We also wanted to visit the Bella Book store, Home of the orange Julius cookie.

Sadly the store was no longer where it was last year. We went to another book store in town and inquired about it and they generously told us that Bella had moved next to the food co-op. We happily made our way down the hill and found it. The new location is so much cooler. The owner sold us the last of the orange Julius cookies with drinks and we sat in the store and talked with him all about the relocation and split a cookie. It was a charming afternoon.

As we headed south on Route one to get back to Warren’s we decided to drive through Bayside, the tiny Victorian village of cottages that were originally a turn of the century church camp, the place that Russ really loves. The story of what happened next will have to wait until tomorrow…

Better Times Ahead

There is no better place to ignore the Kavanaugh questioning than Maine. I have no TV, no radio, and no time to look at my IPad or phone. Warren kept me busy as can be today even though we only had one scheduled activity; a dinner with our friend July and Chip at six pm.

July and I went to high school together with Warren. Warren didn’t go to high school with us, but he was there. So this friendship goes back to 1976. Geez that is a long time! Friends like that drop everything when you text to say, “Can we get together?” So July planned a dinner for us to meet in a place called Hallowell, Maine.

I had never heard of Hallowell, which is right next to Augusta, the capital. I had also never been to Augusta, so Warren took this dinner invitation as an opportunity to school me on all things Augusta. This meant that our six PM dinner plans, a 42 mile drive away, involved a trip that had us leaving the coast at 9:45 AM.

First we had to go to drop the trash off at the dump. Then we got on route 17 headed toward the capital so we could make a stop at Elmer’s Barn, one of Warren’s favorite Antique spots. I use the word antiques liberally. Maybe it is because technically I could be considered an antique. But when I see empty cans of baking powder, that match ones I have in my cupboard, I don’t consider them antiques. And as such I am suspect of everything in a place. The room of floor lamps made me think of a flamboyance of flamingos rather than antiques.

After Elmer’s we finished the trek to the capital. It is no Boston. It is a small fish kind of place in a small pond. The capital dome is not even gold. One distinction that Augusta does hold is that it has one of the last remaining K-Marts. Now isn’t that something for the chamber of commerce to work with.

Warren and I stopped at the K-Mart so he could buy greeting cards from their very novel collection. My favorite section was the “better times ahead” cards. I wondered aloud if this was a new addition since Trump became president? For those who liked him they could think, “Now, we will have better times.” And for those who wonder how the hell we got this guy, they are saying, “Boy, do we need better times ahead.”

We went to lunch at a cute place called Otto’s on the Kennebec River. Sadly it is in the fairly dead downtown, where one of the few other open businesses was a formal dress and tuxedo shop that had two 1960’s era wedding dresses in a window on mannequins who were missing their hands. If you want to shop there you needed an appointment according to the dusty sign on the door. I think that last appointment was in 1972.

Our lunch was very leisurely thanks to the kitchen losing out ticket. It was fine with us since we had hours to go until we would meet our friends. After lunch we went to the very large and comprehensive Maine State Museum next door to the capital. I have to say it was worth every cent. My ticket cost $3 and Warren, as a senior citizen, got in for $2.

The Maine State Museum had fabulous exhibits about logging, and ship building and fishing, nature and so many other things Maine. The funniest part to me was the comparisons of two different eras of Maine kitchens. One in the 1800’s that had no light and we couldn’t see into it at all. I wondered if it was supposed to show you what living without electric lights was like. Warren liked the 1950’s kitchen because it had the most HoJo feel. I enjoyed all of the museum, except for the section on rocks and geology of Maine. Maine rocks are not that different from other rocks. It was a little embarrassing when Warren tooted at the Museum, but then again, the sign said he could.

When we had seen everything Maine we moved on to Hallowell. It literally is a four minute drive from the capital. The cute little town was all torn up from a Main Street water and sewer replacement. We visited another antique store which was more promising and Warren bought a pantry cupboard. From there we went to a fabulous old book store with a fine collection of rare books. We could have spent hours, but the owner wanted to close up. That was fine since I don’t need a first addition Little Women, but it was fun to see.

Finally it was time to meet our friends for the activity of the day! We got to the Slate restaurant before they did and settled into a table on the patio. Chip and July arrived and it was just like old times. The only problem with these get togethers is they are just too short. I think we need to plan a longer reunion. Maybe I will send a card from the “better times ahead” section.

Why is Vacation So Tiring?

I’m not sure if I am the only person this happens to, but if I have a very early morning appointment I have to get up for I don’t sleep well the night before. I tend to wake up every twenty minutes in fear that I am going to sleep through my alarm. Consequently, I don’t get any sleep and I am a mess.

Last night was my first night at my friend Warren’s. I was tired when I arrived, but I couldn’t be a rude guest and go straight to bed. After dinner and some time on the front porch I excused myself to write my blog, then I made the mistake of looking at Facebook, which led to me watching Megan McCain’s, President Obama’s and even President Bush’s eulogies of John McCain. I didn’t need to do that then, what I did need was to go to sleep because I had to be up at 4:15.

After my five hours of half sleep in twenty minute increments 4:15 finally came. Why would I have to get up on vacation at this hour? I was not going to catching a flight, or work on a lobster boat, no. I was going to serve breakfast at the Camden Baptist Church community breakfast. This is a volunteer job Warren does every Monday morning. I joined him last year and had a ball, so I was looking forward to doing it again. It’s just very early.

Warren gets there at five to do the prep work and it turned out it was a good thing my extra hands were there because none of the set up had been done the day before as they expected. So I rolled silverware, set up tables, chopped vegetables and made coffee. Then at 6:25 the first early bird crew came to eat. I was a waitress for the cooked to order breakfast, so I had to take orders, serve food and drinks and clear tables. It was fun and a good workout.

After the guests all departed and the whole kitchen was sanitized we departed for the HoJo home around ten in the morning. Just in time to get home, hit the wall and take a nap. I slept hard for one hour then Carter called waking me so I got up and restarted my day.

Warren and I went antiquing and then to Moody’s diner for dinner. Besides the seafood chowder the highlight was meeting Nancy Moody, whose parents had started the dinner in 1927.

After dinner it was home and time for games. Tonight it was Password. Warren broke out an addition from 1963 and the words were next to impossible. Maybe it I had more sleep I would have done better. I think my real vacation is starting tomorrow. I am taking a sleeping pill tonight to sleep hard and through the night. I need a vacation from my vacation.

My Work Is Done.

Three days of moving in is over for me. Today Carter and I went out for one last meal together then I took her to Trader Joe’s to stock her kitchen. Turns out the Trader Joe’s on Boylston is the smallest one in America. That being said, we were still able to find almost everything Carter could need. Everyone in the store couldn’t have been nicer. We had this opera student as our cashier. I did the bagging, as I like to do at any store. Since her cashier stand was no more than a one foot square box that had a shelf that pulled out for the bag, she had me stand right next to her. I had to work fast because there was no place to put items that were already rung up, other than in a bag.

With five full bags the opera singer asked a coworker to help us carry them up the escalator to the street. Carter waited with the bags while I went to the parking garage to get the car. For what I have paid to park my rental car these three days I could have rented a house at the beach for a week. When this Boston trip is over I am going to try and never have a rental car in Boston again. Uber or Lyft will be much cheaper.

I returned to Carter’s apartment to do a little help lining kitchen shelves, but it was really time for me to let her do everything on her own. Carter still had her storage boxes to unpack, clothes to put away and her kitchen to organize. I was just in the way. Since I am coming back to Boston next Saturday I will get to see the room finished then.

I happily drove my rental car out of the city to Maine for my annual pilgrimage to the mid coast to visit my friend Warren. I usually come in the summer, but this year September made more sense to tie it in with drop off. This way I won’t be home, missing Carter. Instead I am missing Russ.

On this busy day I did not get a chance to speak to my youngest sister Janet and wish her a happy birthday. I left a message, but want to give her a shout out that I love her and hope the next year is her best one yet. It’s been a busy day. It’s been a busy three days, but now I have vacation. Oh Happy Day

“Good Thing You Are Here, Because You Are Right”

Every inch of me hurts. In the last 24 hours Carter and I went to Target at 8:00 pm last night and bought two carts worth of stuff for her apartment. I broke the cart escalator in the store because I had a microwave on the shelf under the cart. The sign that said, “nothing under the cart on the escalator,” had fallen on the floor so the four employees it took to fix it were not mad at me. But Carter left the area and pretended not to know me.

After that Target run we started moving our full SUV of stuff into Carter’s second floor walk up apartment ourselves. Not wanting to wait to put together any of the four closets/shelving units /hanging racks that we bought, Carter got right to work with the Allen wrench. Finally at 10:30 I called it quits and we went to eat dinner.

Today was the real move in day. We rose early and drove 40 minutes out of town to the land of IKEA/Costco/Home Depot all right next to each other. We had heard that this day at IKEA was the busiest one all year so we planned on getting in early. Since Costco opened first we hit that up, filling a whole cart.

Then we zipped over to IKEA with the giant stream of other cars and got into it just as it was opening. Two carts later we were packing it in that giant SUV and toddling over to Home Depot. One more full cart and it was still just 11:30. We ate lunch outside the city, just so we didn’t have to pay for parking and headed back to school. It was not an official move-in day since Northeastern tries to not add to the mess that is September 1, lease change day for renters. That being said they still had hampers for moving and traffic cops everywhere.

Carter’s apartment is just across the street from the lot where we could park and unload our car. It took two hamper loads to get everything to her building and then countless trips up the stairs with armfuls of boxes and bags. Carter began assembling her rolling desk chair, but when it came time to do the arm she hit a stumbling block. I suggested a different way and she said the best thing ever to me, “Thank god you are here, because you are right.” Not words that I normally hear from my 19 year old.

I took over the chair assembly and she moved into the bathroom for a towel rack assembly. At one point she called out to me, “What are you working on?” “The fucking chair, how about you?” She replied, “The fucking towel rack.”

We kept unpacking and assembling everything we had, while we waited the delivery of the seven large boxes Carter had in storage. I carried three big loads of cardboard to the basement for recycling. By the time I climbed the back two flights for the third time I could feel my body beginning to fight back. I looked at my watch and I had done 22,000 steps and 31 flights of stairs and it was not yet 6pm.

Our cousin Andrea and her daughter Sarah arrived around seven and delivered a box I had sent to their house. At last we were going for a comfortable meal. We drove to Back Bay and Andrea found us two parking places on the street five blocks from the restaurant. We walked to dinner and after sitting for an hour my back stiffened up. I walked back ten years older than I had walked in. Sadly, we both had parking tickets. This September 1 thing in Boston is serious.

Carter’s roommate Olivia wanted to see the apartment since she was not moving in until Monday so after dinner Carter and I went back to the apartment so Carter could give her a FaceTime tour. Olivia was very happy with the progress and our choices. At last we are back at the hotel so I can recover.

Tomorrow it is just grocery shopping and then I am leaving Carter to finish unpacking and setting up making this space exactly as she wanted it. It only took seven full carts from four major retailers. I’m done.

College Check-In

Carter could hardly wait to get back to Boston. Since last semester she was only here during times of terrible snow and cold she was completely shocked by the beautiful trees and flowers. People sailing on the Charles brought a giddy sound of glee.

Our flight got in around 1:30. With great difficulty we dragged three coffin sized suit cases, two carry on roll-a-boards, one back pack and one tote bag on the bus to the car rental building. We were not alone as other Northeastern kids were doing the same thing as us. Sitting across from us was a freshman who was moving into the dorm Carter lived in last year. We told her she would have good storage and that made her smile.

Carter was skeptical about the car I rented until she saw the suv that easily held all our bags. We made a beeline to her on-campus apartment. I found a parking place on the street which Carter thought surely meant I was going to be towed away. Since it is still Freshman move in time the streets are packed with families who looked like deer in the headlights trying to find their way around.

The plan was for Carter to go check-in and then we would look at her room. Since we had to walk by her building Carter thought we might just go in and look at the hallway. When she used her ID card and room code she was able to open her apartment door. Her building is an old apartment building and we were unsure of the size of her room that she will share with her sweet roommate Olivia. We opened the door into their foyer and were happily surprised with it. She has one closet in the hallway. A bathroom with a claw foot tub. A kitchen with a fairly new refrigerator. A bedroom which is bigger than her room last year. The lighting is poor, but overall it was fairly clean and certainly workable. The closet space is the only drawback, but we are going to buy an additional clothing rack.

The door to the bedroom was not attached at the top hinge, but it is an easy fix. We made a list of things that would make it more homey, then explored the rest of the building. It has a nice laundry room and really nice common room with study rooms. Overall I think it is a hit.

We walked around the corner to check in. It was now after four and since we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast we went to have lunch at Eataly at the Prudential center. I told Carter that she certainly goes to college in a much nicer area than I did, but that she can’t afford to shop there regularly.

Carter was so happy to be back in Boston. We did a tiny bit of shopping for beauty products then came to check-in at our groovy hotel. Carter promptly took a nap. Tonight we are going shopping at Target for cleaning equipment then are going to go back to her apartment to start dropping stuff off. Oh, the fun we are having!

West Wing Binge

For the last two weeks I have been binge watching the West Wing. I have stopped watching all things Washington on the real news in favor of watching a fictional White House. The West Wing story lines seem so much more real to me than the tweets of the current office holder. There are some themes that have not changed. One is the issue of white supremacy, another is gun control. Even though West Wing originally aired starting 19 years ago it so sad to see we have practically moved backwards on these issues.

My favorite part of the show is the playfulness that C.J. Craig, Whitehouse Press secretary, has with the press. She is able to joke with them and they have good back and forth conversations. It makes the current press secretary, SHS look like a kindergartener playing at her job. Perhaps the current White House could hire Aaron Sorkin to write their scripts.

In the West Wing there is no Fox News. The government did not love the press, but they we treated respectfully. The whole campaign about fake news is just a 45 smoke screen.

I occurred to me that 45 might have come up with it because he watches so much Fox. The word Fox sounds a lot like the French word Faux, which means false, or fake. Perhaps Fox News actually means fake news in French.

I digress. If you want to live in the illusion that America is being run competently, just watch West Wing. It has helped me sleep better at night. I know I am just tricking my brain, but frankly having a brain is exhausting in this administration where it appears no one does.

If this made you mad, I don’t care. I am living in the Bartlett administration, if just as a break from reality.

Original E-Mail Address

From time to time I get an e-mail message from a friend asking me to delete their old e-mail address because they are changing their address. Usually the reason is something like, “I get too much spam,” but secretly I am hoping that it is something more salacious than that. Perhaps an old flame has found them and is sending tawdry messages. No one ever admits to that, especially in a big group message.

I should not doubt the spam excuse since I get over 350 junk emails a day. I agree they can be annoying and every once in a while I go on a big “unsubscribe” binge. But I have never gone so far as to even consider giving up my 25 year old email mail address. Granted I have more than one e-mail address, but my original one is the most important to me.

It is not for sentimental reason, but just for memory. See, every account I have ever opened is tied to that e-mail. If I signed up for a loyalty program, that is the e-mail I used, if I opened a sign up genius account, it is with that e-mail, if I opened a stock trading account, that is the e-mail.

My fear is that when I lose my account numbers, user names, or passwords I still know the email attached to the account. See, I often forget I have even signed up for an account and only find out I did when I try and create a new one using my tired and tested old email account. It is amazing how much stuff a person signs up for in a lifetime. It is also easy to forget about it.

Tonight I was trying to make a reservation at a hotel chain I have not stayed at in years. While on their website I discover that if you are a member of their loyalty program and make your reservation through their system you save $15 on WiFi. Of course I did not know my account number or password, but I did know and still have my e-mail address, so a new password could be sent to it.

I am trying to be better about keeping track of all my stuff, but lord it is hard. I miss the days when I only had a library card and ATM card to keep track of. For now I am counting on only needing my original email address for the rest of my life. It may be full of junk, but every once in while it really saves me. If I started using a different email I would have to remember my old and new one. If I could do that I could just remember my account numbers and passwords.

Anticipating College Move-In

I have loved having Carter home these last few weeks and now I am going to have to readjust to her being gone again. This time last year we were preparing her to go off to Germany for her first semester. I didn’t get the normal college drop off experience. It was just a quick wave goodbye as she went through security at RDU. It was fast and clean, and maybe easier, but then she was so far away.

This week she and I are flying up to Boston to move her in to her on campus apartment. Not only do I get the full move-in experience, but I have to outfit her kitchen with her. Not to have to be on the meal plan is a huge bonus for her, but she is used to cooking with my equipment and I am not leaning toward spending that for college cookware.

The one thing I am not prepared for is Boston moving day on September first when apparently 60,000 students move from one apartment to another in a 24 hour period. The flaw in the system is they have to be out of one apartment by noon on August 31 and can not get in the new one until noon, September 1. I have read that there are college students sleeping on the street with all their belongings. Thankfully this is not our situation, this year, but we are going to be trying to move in right in the middle of all this.

In the spring Carter did a great job of moving herself out of her dorm without me, so I am anticipating this might be my last move in. My parents never came to college for move in or out after my initial drop off Freshman year. That was also the quickest move-in in history because it was just my father with me and he had to drive to Dulles to catch a flight back to London. I remember walking around campus alone while everyone else still had their parents. I was wondering what their parents were still doing there.

Thankfully some things are better about moving Carter in than I ever had. She does not have a stereo system, with turn table, receiver, tape deck and two wood case speakers the size of large end tables. There are no milk crates full of record albums. She does not have a Refrigerator, since one is provided in her kitchen. No television, since she watches everything on her computer. No reference books like dictionaries, both English and one for your foreign language as well as thesaurus and Little Brown style guide. As far as I am concerned, College move-in has got to be a breeze compared to mine, except for that Boston thing.

Proof He’s Petty

This morning my friend Suzanne’s sister posted the White House phone number on Facebook, asking people to call about the flag not being at half mast over the White House to honor John McCain. I have not agreed with everything that McCain did in all his 60 years of selfless service to the country, mostly in picking Sarah Palin as his running mate, but I do think he deserved more than 36 hours of a flag at half mast. The norm is for the flag to only be raised after the internment of the body.

I feel like 45 was just being petty to rise it all the way up when every other flag in DC and probably the country were at half mast. So I called the White House. I had to dial 11 times before I got anything other than a busy signal. When the phone did pick up I got a recording and I waited 7 minutes for a live volunteer to answer my call. I politely said, “I am concerned about the flag over the White House not being at half mast.” A very nice women said, “I will let the president know of your concern.” I then asked if she was extra busy today, and she said, yes. It was a cordial and short call, but I felt better registering my concern.

I was happy to see that late this afternoon the White House lowered the flag. The office of the President is more than the man who sits behind the desk. It is small minded of him to use something like the flag to register his dislike of someone who deserves to be honored. The only thing the flag did was make the president look childish.

I took some heat from someone who is a supporter of 45 about my calling out people who I feel have lowered themselves to stick by someone who acts this way. She says that people voted for him because they are fed up. I understand the idea of not liking politicians and wishing things could change. What I don’t understand is sticking by someone who acts this way. There is something about not wanting to admit you might have voted for the wrong person. I voted for Bush the younger, but when he went south, I had no trouble saying I no longer felt like he was the right guy for the job.

45 not honoring a great republican is something I just don’t get. I am not sure how people in the party can jive with this.

When Friends Know You

In the last couple of days I have come home to surprise gifts from friends. One was from my friend Kelly. Her son Adam left his car and his college stuff at our house and when he came to pick it up before move in he left me this bag from Kelly. I didn’t notice it at first, but when Kelly asked me about it I searched around and found the perfect gift, a bag of “45” dog toys and paraphernalia. My favorite is the poop bag dispenser with bags.

Nothing makes me happier about scooping than if I can do it with someone’s face on the bag I feel poopie about. So thanks to Kelly for the very thoughtful gift. Although it is unnecessary since we are happy to help Adam out any time he needs it.

A much less controversial gift, but just as thoughtful, was the card game Christy left in my mail box. Christy knows me as the game master and apparently this was a game she and her family liked, so she knew I would too.

My response to a gift of a game is, “Will you play it with me?” That is a true grift to me. Of course Christy said, “Yes.” I can hardly wait to try this game out.

Usually I have to import game players since my immediate family is not hot on games. That was until yesterday when I knew Carter had to be totally bored. She challenged me to Monopoly. Praise be, you know I dropped everything else I was doing to play a game with her. We probably should have picked a shorter game because after all the properties were bought up and the houses were going up fast, Carter got bored and the game ended.

Now if anyone wants to give me a gift, and I am not suggesting anyone ever get me ANYTHING, but if you are looking to do something nice for me come play a game with me. You don’t have to buy me a game, or bring a game, I’ve got plenty. Just come and sit at the table and play. After we play, we can walk Shay and use the appropriate poop bags. That makes for the perfect day.

Sally Came to Town

I love college move in time of year. With so many good schools around here I am sure to have a friend of two come to visit when they drop their kid off. Today was an extra special visit from my great Ethel Walker’s friend Sally Peck. Sally’s youngest son is a sophomore at Elon so for the last two Augusts I have had a chance to catch up with her.

Since Sally lives in Silicon Valley I had not seen her for years, but thanks to the draw of a nice North Carolina school I am blessed with a visit. Today I invited Sally to meet me half way between Elon and my house since she came all the way here last year. We were meeting for breakfast so I could think of no better place that the best gas station restaurant in North Carolina, the Saxapawhaw General Store.

Thank goodness Sally is so down to earth that she did not mind meeting me at a gas station. We had a wonderful visit and a yummy breakfast. I got to hear about her wedding in March to Herb and their five grown children now blended into a new family.

The big thing we talked about is our 40th high school reunion next May. So, calling all Walker’s girls from ‘79. Sally and I talked about getting a big Air bnb so we can all be together. Frankly, one lunch back at EWS is enough, but a good night of friends together is really what we want.

So spread the word. I am going to start looking for a place to stay. Suggestions are welcome from anyone in or around Simsbury. It is not exactly the vacation capital so we hope we can find something big enough.

The nice thing about our 40th is no one cares what you look like, who you are married to or not, how successful you are or anything else that people use to measure themselves against. We just want to have a chance to laugh and tell stories and maybe laugh and eat, and laugh. Just like we did when we were at Walkers.

It was great to see Sally and I am happy that I know I will have a couple more years of visits.

Grown Up Permission Slip Needed

Remember when you were a kid and you needed a permission slip to do something out of the norm. Not like getting out of school early to go to the dentist. That was just a plain old note from your Mom. No, a permission slip was for something fun or dangerous, like going on a field trip to a zip line. Once you had that permission slip signed by your parent or guardian (which was a word I never really understood since everyone I knew had parents), you were free to do something without worry.

Sometimes I wish there was a permission slip for grown ups. Yes, one of the beauties of being a grown up is being able to do whatever you want. Like my friend Lane says, when you are an adult you can eat ice cream for dinner, not that she realized that until she was well over thirty.

But there is a modicum of guilt that comes with doing whatever I want.

Yesterday I cleaned the house, did four loads of laundry, picked up Russ’ prescriptions, did some office work, had a meeting, wrote a dozen necessary emails, and called three workmen. Today, I did a puzzle, finished a fifteen year old cross stitch, and binged watched the first season of West Wing. I had a lot of guilt about my day today. I did hand wash one shirt and machine wash one quilt, but other than that, well.

I might have felt better about things if I had a permission slip for the puzzle. I’m not sure who I should ask to sign it. I could fax it to my father since I usually had parents sign those things, even though my parents usually told me just to sign it for them. For the record, I highly objected to forging permissions slips on my parents’ orders so my mother usually signed with a dried up orange magic marker that she had to lick since the cap had been lost ages ago. Russ could have sent me a permission slip electronically, since he might actually be my guardian now. I would have even felt better if Carter had signed it for me, just as long as someone else knew I was goofing off.

Now, I never feel like I need permission for Mah Jongg, or bridge. Since I don’t go shopping that is a non-issue in my house. Somehow starting a puzzle that has taken over the living room game table feels decedent. I am not trying to hog it. Anyone who walks by is welcome to work on it. No one else in the family uses that table. We have plenty of other tables available, and they are all clean.

I know plenty of women who feel no guilt about reading a book all day and night. How is doing a puzzle different, especially since I was listening to a book on podcast while I did it?

Maybe I just need a little confession. Next time I work on the puzzle I will hang a little sign on my front door handle. Of course it will be tomorrow. I have to finish this puzzle before Wednesday when I have Mah Jongg here and we need the table.

Moral Flexibility is Not a Good Thing

After coming home from a five day news break I was bombarded with the latest news of Michael Cohen and Paul Manafort’s days in court. What followed was 45 on Fox talking about Cohen flipping, meaning he made a plea deal to turn in a bigger fish, namely 45. The most shocking thing to me is 45 saying, “I’ve known all about flipping- for 30 or 40 years…I’ve had many friends involved in this stuff…”

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I know or have ever met someone who is a flipper, let alone have many friends who have been on one side or the the other of a flip. See, a flipper is a criminal. Only someone being charged with a crime needs to flip someone else on a bigger crime. In essence, the president has just said that for 30-40 years his friends have been criminals.

Before you jump all over me, it’s 45 who said right on TV… “Many friends.” I am not inferring any thing, just quoting. He didn’t say, “I know one guy, who might be my in-law, who flipped.” Just “many friends.”

I know politics is a dirty business. If we look closely at many politicians we are going to find stuff we don’t like, but what I can’t get over is the moral flexibility the Trump supporters seem to have to stick with him.

I remember when the far right used to be the self named “moral majority.” They weren’t just the run of the mill, good ‘ole republicans who believed in small government and states rights. No, these were people who used the Bible selectively to try and squash people’s personal rights, like marriage equality and the right to chose what to do with our own bodies, and equal rights. They claimed the moral high ground.

Well, you moral majority, why aren’t you using your bible to point out that robbers, thieves, and adulterers, who are in power now are doing anything wrong? How quickly you abandoned true morality and lay down for this person who as far as I can tell has confessed to many immoral acts for years. 45 is exactly who he always said he was. But you moral majority, you are the flippers now.

What I wish for is for all the republicans who want to save whatever morality and backbone they have to start a new party of centerists. And perhaps many of the center leaning democrats will join you. It can be a party of common sense. Conservative on spending, and liberal on rights. Sticking with a guy you wouldn’t leave alone in a room with your beautiful daughter is not a good idea.

Really Easing Back Into Reality

After five days of friend and vacation time, today could have been a shock to my system. I had to get up at 6:45 to go to the gym and as I was getting ready Russ asked me if I could get the plumbers to come fix the only original toilet left in our house. Just those two things alone could be considered a slap in the reality face.

Since I was too tired to eat breakfast I just went to workout without eating and did just fine. I called the plumbers on the way there and left a message. This made me feel like I was having an uber productive day in re-entry.

Since it is Mah Jongg day, and most people are away on vacation I asked my three friends who were coming if we could go out to lunch after playing instead of my cooking them lunch. They all agreed so my Mah Jongg was all playing and no working.

During the game the best plumbers in Durham, the Whaley Brothers showed up. They not only fixed the toilet, but they showed me where a water cut off valve was that neither Russ, ever knew about for 25 years of owning this house and they diagnosed a problem with our tankless water heater that has been plaguing us. The last two things were free!

After the brothers left I joined my friends for lunch at the newly renamed Bull and Bean, formally Bull Street. This game playing and lunching out was reminding me of being on vacation. That being the case I felt like I needed to go home and take a nap. Just as I was getting my feet up Carter came home and asked me if I wanted to go to the movies and see Crazy Rich Asians with her. Sure! This is kind of like a vacation day. So off we went.

The movie is fun and definitely worth seeing. It was Carter’s second time to see it in four days so I knew it was going to be good.

After the movies, Carter and I made dinner with me teaching her how to make risotto as one of her college cooking lessons. Now I am back to putting my feet up. The day might have started out on a taxing note, but it quickly slid back into semi vacation mode. I wonder how long I can ignore reality? It is so much nicer this way.

Friendship Slam

When you are a guest at someone’s house it is always best to leave early and have them pine for your return than late and have them wish you had gone earlier. It also works that as a guest it is best to leave while you are having a great time before you discover you over stayed your welcome and never get asked back.

So sadly I left Bald Head today, leaving my friends to continue their family vacation without me, but not before we packed in all the fun we could. Since I was the fourth, or in lots of cases, the third for bridge, Suzanne, Jack and I decided that we should waste no time doing anything else this morning, not breakfast, not walking on the beach, not swimming, but just get as much bridge in as we could.

Since we were playing three handed we were fairly lenient on each other and so we had lots of good learning moments. Even though I had to pack and Suzanne had to get dressed since she was playing in her pajamas we kept playing “one last hand.” We ended our five days of bridge playing between my house and Bald Head with the best hand ever. Suzanne opened 3 clubs and the bid ended up as a slam at 6 spades, which she played beautifully. It was the perfect ending to our time together and an excellent metaphor for our friendship. All things good and always fun.

Since now it was lunch time and we hadn’t eaten anything all day we loaded my suit case, and two coolers and Scout box I was bringing home, on to the two golf carts and the five of us went to the harbor to grab lunch. I had no time to get sappy about how sad I was about leaving them because just as we finished lunch I realized I could make the next ferry that was leaving in four minutes.

Racing the golf carts over to the ferry the boat guy generously took all my stuff and put them on the boat, I hugged the Farleys goodbye and the boat guy let me get on with one second to spare. It had been a fabulous little get away for me and I was leaving while everyone still liked me.

Driving off alone in my car was a little shock to my system because I didn’t have anyone to tell stories to. I stoped at the fish market in Southport and got a bunch of seafood right off the boat so I utilized my coolers. As I was driving the boring part of I-40, listening to the radio reality was coming back to me. I had avoided all news while I was away and that made for a lovely Trump-free few days.

The good news was I was coming home to Carter, Russ and Shay who make everything in life better. When I got home I told Carter that Suzanne and I thought our whole families should have a vacation together and she said that sounded like a great idea, especially since we had not had time with Suzanne’s oldest child Grace on this vacation.

So thanks to the Worden/Farley clan for including me on their vacation. It was absolutely perfect. I hope the rest of your time on Bald Head is schmired!

Great Day on Bald Head

Things I love about being on vacation with the Worden/Farley Family:

Being treated like a queen, with coffee brought to me in bed.

Great morning walk with Suzanne and the dogs where everyone on the beach is happy to greet the Labrador’s.

Being one of the family.

Playing bridge after breakfast.

Playing banana grams after lunch.

Never being without someone who wants to play a game with me.

Spending ocean time with my bonus boys, Jack and Oliver, jumping in the waves.

Driving the golf cart with Suzanne and the boys listening to Oliver’s curated music of Sting, the Grateful Dead and others from Suzanne and my era.

Sharing the friendliness of North Carolinians with the Farley’s.

Sitting on the porch with Suzanne and Steve, listening to ocean and loving the waining afternoon light, telling stories.

Laughing, Laughing, Laughing.

Napping Please

When on vacation it is often necessary to take a nap. OK, maybe not necessary. How about preferred? Preferred is not quite right either. Perhaps, shit, I never get to take a nap at home and between walking on the beach, being in the sun and staying up too late the night before I need a nap. Add to that, I am much nicer with more sleep than less sleep and I am a guest so am have to be nice. Also, everyone else was napping.

All this being said, I went outside on the porch and lay down in the hammock to nap. It was in the shade. A lovely breeze was blowing. The ocean was off in the distance just enough to make that white noise sound. I had pillows and a cover and it was a Pawleys Island rope hammock, my preferred brand.

I closed my eyes. No sleep. I had some random thoughts. “Where did Suzanne live in college? I couldn’t remember her room. I tried to sleep. Then the banging started. What was that banging? Every thirty to forty five seconds. I tried to ignore it. After about half an hour I got up to see what it was so I could stop it. It was a door that opened on the porch, but the casing had come undone and was blocking the door from closing. It was too tall for me to fix. I gave up on my nap.

Then the air conditioning in the house was not working. Well, it was working, but the door that kept banging open was letting so much hot air in it overwhelmed the system. Then the gas grill wasn’t working.

Since I am Suzanne’s handy friend I went to work to fix everything. None of it was hard, but at least now the doors close, the house has cooled down and the grill is fired up to cook dinner. Sadly I did not have my nap, but I did have a fun day on the beach and in town at lunch and at the game table. I just pray I don’t get grouchy before dinner and the next round of games. I live my life without naps, I think I can do it.

Moving the Game East

Today was my Sherpa day. Suzanne, Jack and Oliver put their two big dogs in their car and drove east to Deep River to catch the ferry to Bald Head. Steve, Suzanne’s husband, was supposed to fly in from NYC, but his flight got canceled. Thankfully he was put on a later flight. My job was to pick Steve up at the airport on my way to Deep River with two of their coffin sized suitcases, a cooler, my suit case and whatever Steve brought. The plan was that Steve and I would take a later ferry and catch up with Suzanne and the boys on the island.

Somehow all the stars aligned. I sent Suzanne to the farmer’s market on their way to the coast an hour before I left home. Steve’s flight got in 45 minutes early and he got his bag and stepped out on the curb just as I was pulling up. We decided not to stop the car for any stops and just book it to Deep River to try and meet up with everyone else. It was a great time for me to catch up with Steve.

We pulled up to the ferry dock and five minutes later Suzanne pulled in behind us. Somehow we had gotten ahead of them. All our bags, boxes and coolers made the ferry crossing and the transport got us to the beautiful house they are renting for two weeks.

My job as way station master and Sherpa was done successfully and now I am being rewarded with a few days at the beach and lots of laughs and many games to be played.

Before dinner Jack and I busted out the Banana grams and it was a true match where we both finished at exactly the same time. The game was decided on one non-word that disqualified that board. It was practically as exciting as the finish of the Indianapolis 500.

After a yummy dinner out we came back to the house to play bridge. We had about 30% Slam hands which made it a big night at bridge. Exhaustion finally ended the game, or rather just put it on pause until tomorrow.

So much fun was had and it’s just the beginning. I will gladly volunteer as Sherpa anytime.

A Bag Full of Tricks

Russ is the master of picking up the check. He had to learn to be quick and devious when he married into my family. Tonight we went out to dinner with our house guests, Suzanne and her two sons, Jack and Oliver. We had a big day here and I knew I was going to be too exhausted to cook so we had a reservation at Vin Rouge.

Being the mother of one girl I was not actually prepared to feed boys the quantities of food necessary to keep them upright. I got up early this morning after all the dogs in our house barked at any movement. I made two big trays of candy bacon and some scrambled eggs for Suzanne and I before the boys emerged from the newly created man cave.

When they did arise they mowed through some breakfast, it was their first encounter tee with my candy bacon. Oliver and Suzanne were going off to tour Duke so I drove them over so they didn’t have to worry about parking. On the way out the door Jack asked if he could cook some salmon for his mid morning snack.

After I dropped them off I stopped by the grocery to stock up on some lunch and snack food. Jack was happy to enjoy the tortilla chips with the limes he was eating. It was practically noon before Jack, Carter and I got to sit down and play Catan for the first time today. Half way through the game it was time for me to go back and pick up the Duke tour group.

This also meant it was time for people to eat again. The best thing about having such close friends visit is I told them all to make their own lunches and everyone found something they wanted. Full and tired from barking dogs at night naps were in order for a few.

I lay on my bed for half an hour just to recharge before Suzanne and I went out to Whole Foods for her to stock up on food for Bald Head. She was just going to get some meat and wine and two carts later we were rolling our way back to her car with a dozen bags.

Suddenly it was time for us to eat again. When we sat down Russ whispered something to the waitress that I recognized as the heads up to give him the bill when dinner was over. Suzanne said dinner was their treat and she and Russ had a small tug of war, but I knew Russ was already on it.

Oliver had already decided on the mac and cheese for dinner before we got to the restaurant, but once there thought a second entree of steak tartare would hit the spot. Carter and Jack had matching dinners of oysters and steaks, but Carter took half of hers home. As we hardly thought we could eat another bite Jack got up from the table and disappeared.

Apparently he texted Suzanne during dinner that if she gave him her credit card, he would go pay the bill in advance. When Russ learned of this slight of hand, Oliver gleefully, with hands in the air shaking, announced, “We are a bag full of tricks.” It really does take a bag full of tricks for someone to get one over on Russ Lange. Thanks to the Farley Magicians for dinner.

One Mom, Two Sons, Two Dogs

It took some doing, but I spent the better part of today rearranging Russ’ home office to fit an additional queen sized inflatable bed in it. Tonight my best college friend Suzanne arrived with her two very tall sons, Jack and Oliver and their two labradors, Chance and Esme to spend two days with us on their way to Bald Head.

So many times the Lange’s, one, two or all three of us have crashed at the Farley/Worden home in NYC. And when I say crashed, I mean we are feted, fed and entertained in luxury. If I ever call Suzanne and say I am driving through New York, she always says, “How long can you stay?” It is about time I returned the favor.

When Suzanne planned this family vacation she knew that the logistics of moving everyone to Bald Head were going to be complicated. Suit cases had to be fed ex’d, golf clubs had to be shipped. Dog crates had to go on roof racks. Her daughter had to fly in from San Francisco, her husband had to fly in from NYC. And since the dogs are an important part of the vacation they had to be driven.

I was thrilled when our house became a vital stop. This meant that I was going to have some quality time playing games with the Farley’s. Oliver and Suzanne are going to look at Duke tomorrow, but other than that, I bet we will get in more than one round of Catan. Even Carter, who normally won’t play a game with me, was happy to join in the first game of Catan tonight with Jack and Oliver and me.

The young people worked as a team against me to give Oliver, the youngest the victory. Oliver reminded me that I made him cry when he was little and we played Monopoly, so he lives to beat me. What a horrible human I was to make a little boy cry over a game. It made him a much better competitor today.

Shay is the only one who is slightly traumatized by having two big new friends in the house. They came in an drank all her water, then out came their big stainless bowls to be filled with more water and that is when the splashing really got started. It is clear that Shay is much more “Oodle” than “Lab” for she is nothing like a Chance or Esme. But by the time dinner was over she was happy to hang with them, even crying a little when they went in their room to sleep.

I hope that everyone sleeps well. We have a lot of dog and game fun planned for tomorrow.

Shrub Suggestions

Earlier this summer we had to have five large pines removed from the back out our house. In order to reach them our entire side yard of wild hedges had to be removed. Well, they didn’t all have to be removed, but once they started disturbing one section the leftover just looked messy. It was a better plan to have the men with big machines go ahead and remove them than wait and have me do it.

We have a scorched earth area in our yard now that is at least 100 feet long and thirty five feet wide. My Dad saw pictures of it and volunteered to bring a number of his tractors and implements along with Bill, his best guy, to help me fix up the side yard. Of course the best time to do this is in the fall so I have lived with the mess all summer.

Last weekend while I was at the farm my Dad and I went to look at bushes at his good nursery. We estimate that I am going to need at least 16 good sized, fast growing bushes to recreate the screen we need between us and out neighbors. As luck would have it our neighbors have been doing a major lawn overhaul for the last six weeks so they pulled out all their screening shrubs on their side so right now none of us can go in either of our kitchens without being fully dressed.

I am looking for shrub advice from all you fabulous southern gardeners. I m considering a combination of holly and laurel bushes, but don’t have exact varieties worked out. I am not wed to this plan, so I am open to suggestions.

Also I am looking for a reliable vendor who delivers. I want to start with specimens that are between 3-4 feet tall, but can get up to ten. I don’t need to say that I am looking for a good price.

Right now the inventory is low since it is a terrible time to plant, but by mid September I need to get moving on this. Please message me with any and all suggestions. The best suggestion will win a pie of your choice.

Hated Six Months and a Day Rule

For most of our marriage we did not have dental insurance. We just went to the dentist and paid for it. Life was easy. Then, right after I finished paying for Carter’s braces we got dental insurance. It’s good. They pay a good amount. But there is one rule I hate. You are entitled to two teeth cleanings a year, but they must be at least six months and one day apart.

Technically you won’t get two teeth cleanings in every year based on that math. As example let’s say you got your teeth cleaned on January 2, since the dentist is closed on January 1. The next day you are eligible to get your teeth cleaned is July 3, six months and one day later. The next time you re eligible after that is January 4, then July 5. OK if you start at the first of the year it works out you get two. What if your first cleaning is June 30 so the next day you can go is Dec. 31, but the dentist is closed. So you have to wait until January 2, a new year. You only got one in the first year.

This issue really didn’t bother me until I had a child who goes to college far from home. First it is next to impossible to get her an appointment on a day I know for certain she is going to be home and then what are the chances she is going to be home even close to six months and a day when she is allowed to get her teeth cleaned again. It would be so nice if the dental insurance plan would just let us get our teeth cleaned twice a year and when those times are was up to us. Sometimes it might be five months apart and other seven. Not a big issue in the scheme of things, but is it?

See in their current rules they are banking on the fact that you are going to not always get two cleanings in every calendar year as long as you have to wait at least six months and a day. Most people can’t get an appointment on that exact day, it might be a weekend or a holiday or your birthday and you don’t want to go to the dentist that day. So you push it back a few weeks. But every time you do that it means you are pushing back the next appointment.

I used to make a year’s worth of appointments at a time and always knew which months I would go to the dentist. Not now. I hate this rule! Damn those smart dental insurance people.

Don’t Walk Abreast at Costco

Today was errand day. Since Shay was out of chicken I had to make a Costco run because we spoil our dog more than our baby. It was only once I had parked my car did I realize that the start of college move in had started. I was the lone North Carolina plate amongst cars from a New Jersey, New York and Connecticut. I thought there was a higher number of Range Rovers than is normal for our Costco.

There are lots of benefits to living in a college town flanked by two other college towns, but this time of year is not it. Once inside the giant box I was accosted by parents and their college aged child walking abreast with not just one cart, but also a flat bed cart. I know that it is not official move in day so I am assuming these were either athletes, or upper classmen outfitting off campus apartments. From the number of flat screen TVs I saw being purchased I might have thought they were people building sports bars.

One family had three different TV’s. I saddled up beside them pretending to be interested in a smart TV just so I could figure out why they were buying three.

Daughter: I think that 55 inch is good for the living room and the two 32 inches can go in my bedroom and on the porch.

Father: Do you need one for the kitchen?

Daughter: No, I can see the the living room from the kitchen.

Porch TV? I didn’t see any weather proof TV’s. With all these TV’s how does she have any time left over to study. I wonder if she is majoring in television production?

The worst Costco college shoppers are the international students because they don’t have parents with them and they appear to have unlimited funds. I watched two young men from an Asian country argue in their native tongue as they tried to load a leather sectional onto one of those flat bed carts. I was dying to know if they Ubered to the Costco.

I tried my best to maneuver past these large groups of students as they loaded up on paper products. As I was on the back stretch of the store, with a long clear aisle all the way to the pharmacy area I thought I could make some good time to the cash registers since the students we not there buying number ten cans of tomatoes. Just as I was nearing the pharmacy a lone very elderly woman pulled out of the detergent aisle right in front of me. I thankful I was not pushing a flat bed full of TV’s because I would have run her over.

She slowly weaved back and forth down the aisle making it difficult for me to pass her. God, where are the New Jersey families when I need them to push her out of the way. The old woman paused at the pharmacy and I was able to make a quick curve around her by the vitamins and make the 100 foot slide on into the checkout just behind three other people.

By the time my cart reached the belt I turned to start putting my chicken and salmon up I noticed the old woman was coming up behind me, “You passed me and got my spot in the line.” I looked at her with a puzzled look since that was at least three minutes before. “I’m sorry,” I said “I didn’t realize the line started at the pharmacy.” I wasn’t trying to be cheeky, but really, I did not know there was a no passing zone. “Well, I would have gotten here before you, but I had to come down another aisle because all these kids were blocking the detergent aisle, so I should have been in line in front of you.”

She had to be kidding me, but I looked at her with sympathy and said, “I know, all those back to college shoppers.” I took my chicken and salmon off the belt, even though they we all the way at the cashier at this point. “Please go in front of me.” Shit, not just the college shoppers annoyed me at Costco, but so did the old lady locals.

Life Among Quilters

My fabulous quilting friend Frances convinced me to join the Triangle Modern Quilting Guild which she has been a member of for a while. In the spring when I went to my first quilt show in Raliegh her guild was there so I signed up to join. They meet on Sunday afternoons once a month so I have not attended any meetings because that is not the most convenient time.

This month Frances was going to be giving a talk about the evolution of Modern Quilting so I really wanted to go. Frances helped me out by saying I could go with her because the meetings are held in the pool house of some subdivision in a no man’s land area kind of between Durham and Raliegh. Despite the awkward location, the meeting was exciting, and inspiring.

Other than Frances, and my friend Julie in Maine, I don’t know any other quilters. Apparently, quilting attracts many more introverts than extroverts so I might know some other quilters, but they are keeping that skill to themselves. I have taught myself how to quilt with the help of You Tube so I haven’t had the chance to talk about quilting with live humans.

I went to this quilt show in Raliegh in the hopes of meeting live quilters so I could maybe pick up some useful information. That didn’t happen. I walked around and looked at the quilts, most of which I did not like. The only people who talked with me were sewing machine salesmen. No help.

So today’s meeting was a fist for me. A room full of people who actually quilt. Thee was some business discussed and then Frances gave her talk which sparked a lively discussion about how people learned to quilt and inspiration. After a snack break it was time for show and tell. Frances told me to bring a quilt to show.

The head of the meeting started with the people in the back and asked anyone with something to show to come up. It was fantastic. About a dozen women had something to show. Each one was different, but I was thrilled because unlike the show, I liked all the pieces that everyone showed. It was also a little intimidating because clearly there were hundreds of collective years of experience in the room. But the quilters were friendly and encouraging and treated me so nicely when I showed my quilt.

I am inspired to keep working at this art, even though it is a lonely existence. At least now I have found some kindred spirits thanks to Frances.

Summer Saturday

As a family we believe strongly in gun control. We can’t imagine why automatic guns are needed for anything other than the military. The only thing we like is sporting clays. Russ and Carter are good shots. And Carter really got into shooting at Camp this summer. When she got home she asked if we could go to the farm and do some shooting.

My father, as the provider of all fun outdoor toys, happily obliged. Sadly most of our sporting guns were stolen and the only one left is my grandfather’s old 20 gauge. It was good enough for Russ and Carter to break some clays over the pond.

While they were shooting my Dad and I went to scout out new shrubs for our side yard. I am in the market for some holly and laurel bushes to create a screen along an 80 foot section of our yard. My Dad has generously volunteered to bring his tractors down and help me with this project.

Between providing toys and tools I am very lucky that my Dad is around and so spry and willing to help. To thank him we invited our friends Lynn and Logan to come up to the farm and take my Mom and Dad to lunch with us.

After lunch we spent the afternoon swimming while my Dad told Logan stories. It was a practically perfect way to spend a summer Saturday afternoon with two 80 year olds. The best part was none us of shot anyone.

Summer Corn Salad

What do you do when you discover once beautiful farmer’s market corn in the back of the fridge that you should have made two weeks ago? You make corn salad of course.

My hate of wasting food is well known. I am an expert at repurposing and reconfiguring food that I have previously made. I don’t ever cook anything that might be questionable, but I do find ways to improve ingredients that might be just past their prime.

I had four ears of what once were juicy, plump sweet corn on the cob. Rather than serving it in its natural state I cut the kernels off the cob to cook so I could improve them. I heated a fly pan on high until it was very hot, sprayed it with a little Pam and dumped the kernels in. I let them start to turn slightly brown before I stirred them once. Then after one good stir left them again. After about five minutes in the pan I sprinkled them with a little sugar and salt and cooked them another minute. Once cooled I tasted the corn and it was yummy. The perfect start to a summer corn salad.

Cooked corn kernels

Cherry tomatoes- halved

Cubes of soft ripe avocado

Balsamic vinegar – just a splash

Fresh basil leaves- chiffonade

Mix everything together and season with salt and pepper. Good with everything summery!

Exercise or Friends?

Just as I was finishing up getting my steps today an article came up on my IPad from WebMD about exercise. Now I know that WebMD can be likened to Entertainment Tonight or People Magazine, superficially informative, but not really an authority. Nonetheless I still read the article.

It was making the point that exercise if good for you. So far not news, but it went on to say that it is only good for you to a point and then it is bad. To say it more succinctly, 45 minutes 3-5 times a week is good, over three hours a day is bad. Thank god! What would I have done if the numbers were switched?

According to WebMD and some more reputable medical journal they were quoting, exercise can reduce the number of poor mental health days you have on average from 3.4 to 1.9 a month. I don’t tend to measure things in mental health measurements, because I have other measurements to worry about, but even so I like the outcome.

The article went on to say that team sports and activities with other people were the most beneficial — just because being with other people is good for you. Not that being with other people on the subway is good for you, but interacting with real humans out like is good.

I think that sitting around the stitchers table and visiting with friends, or playing Mah Jongg does the same thing for you. We just aren’t getting any exercise, but the health benefits of friends are better than exercise.

When I was a kid in the sixties no women exercised. Oh, they might have played tennis, but mostly doubles. No one was out walking, not like people do now. The only exercise machine that existed then was that strap that shook the fat around your bottom, which certainly did not work. But they all had friends.

My mother talked on the phone every morning to her best friend Shelly regardless if she was going to see her in the next hour or not. Back then friends got together all the time. My parents never ate a meal at home on a Friday or Saturday night, unless they were the ones throwing the party. Everyone was thin and no one exercised. I can’t tell you a thing about their mental health, but everybody drank like fish so who could tell.

I think exercise has replaced friends and that is not a good thing. People need to exercise because they don’t have anyone to talk to. I like friends better than exercise, but I think I need both. Maybe I should start a study to show that friends reduce the number of poor mental health days. I do know one thing, if I exercised more than three hours a day I wouldn’t have time for any friends and that would cause me poor mental health.

Happy Birthday Mary Lloyd

Yesterday was my darling friend Mary Lloyd’s birthday. To celebrate it Christy and I took Mary Lloyd for afternoon tea, all our favorite meal. Christy and Mary Lloyd are my very young friends. When Carter was little she used to ask me why my friends were the grandmothers. I would tell her I liked people of many ages.

There is nothing better than having an older friend to tell you what you can be expecting and a younger friend to explain what all the new fangled stuff is. I am thankful for friends of many stages. I especially cherish Mary Lloyd on her special day and am ever grateful to have such a kind an compassionate person who likes to do many of the same things I do like needlepoint and Mah Jongg.

So happy birthday Mary Lloyd. Thank you for keeping me young. I hope you got to put your soft clothes on early.

Cauliflower Quinoa Yumminess

A couple weeks ago I went to the very delicious Elements in Chapel Hill with some friends. We all decided the cauliflower quinoa dish was divine. So today my friend Nancy asked me if I had recreated it yet, because she was waiting. So I made my version for dinner tonight. Even Russ, not a cauliflower eater, said it was good. To top it off it is also vegan.

I changed a couple aspects of the original recipe. I roasted my cauliflower in the oven for ease, rather than grilled. I also used regular quinoa and not red, because that was the kind I found in my cabinet first. I did not make crispy quinoa because I did not want to add the calories or time. It was all just as good.

The key was the Trader Joe’s Marcona almonds because they have a touch of rosemary in them. I made a soy reduction sauce from sugar, rice wine vinegar and soy sauce and it was the bomb. Thankfully Carter wanted Greek salad for dinner so I have a whole leftover meal I can have another day.

1 Head of cauliflower broken into florets

1/2 cup of quinoa

1/3 cup of Marcona almonds

1/4 cup of dried cranberries

Soy reduction sauce

2 T. Sugar

2 T. Soy sauce

2 T. Rice wine vinegar

Preheat oven to 400°. Cover a cookie sheet with foil and spray with Pam. Put the cauliflower florets in a single layer on the foil and spray them with Pam. Put in hot oven and roast for about 20 minutes or until the edges start to brown.

Put one cup of water and a little salt in a sauce pan on high heat. Add the quinoa and stir. Bring to a boil, reduce to simmer and cover the pot. Cook the quinoa for 16-20 minutes, until all the water is cooked out. Just be careful not to over cook it so it sticks to the pot.

Put the cranberries in a small ramekin with 2 T. of water and microwave for 30 seconds to reconstitute them. Drain of any remaining liquid.

In a very small sauce pan put the soy reduction ingredients. Heat on medium and swirl the pot around until the sugar melts.

Assemble the dish by putting the cauliflower in a shallow bowl, sprinkle with as much quinoa as you want. Add almonds and cranberries and drizzle the sauce over the top.

Make three servings.

Unfinished Treasurers

As the great clean out continues I feel lighter and lighter. Even though I only do one or two cabinets a day it still stakes me quite a long time to deal with what I find. Today’s treasures unearthed include the invitation and gift list for our wedding. It was tucked neatly inside a stationary box that held the last few envelopes from our first formal Mr. & Mrs. stationary. It was such fun to read through the list and recollect who gave us what.

Less fun, but interestingly in the same cabinet was every checkbook, both personal and many businesses and all their deposit slip pads. I am not sure what some banks think, but for one account I came across five hundred deposit slips for one account. I have no problem disposing of checks from accounts long closed, but held on to the deposit slips for the active accounts even though I make all deposits on my phone.

The one bit of anxiety all this cleaning out does is it creates many new chores. One item I found today is a large 98% completed counted cross stitch sampler. I can’t remember when I started it, but Carter commented that she remembered me working on it when she was in Pre-school. It definitely was a multi-year project. What I want to know is why I did not finish it back then especially since I was almost done?

So after the days organization was done I sat down to work on this sampler. I realized that all the cross stitching was done and all I was left with the back stitching. Granted it is my least favorite part, but it is not so horrible to just give up on the whole project. I am glad that since I started needlepointing I have never started and abandoned a project. I have bought canvases I have never started, but once a stitch goes in I keep working at it until it is done.

It won’t take me more than a week to finish this cross stitch sampler and when I do I will feel like that is a big check off my 15 year list. Of course I could have done it long ago if I hadn’t lost it in the disorganization.

I am ever hopeful that once these areas are organized they will stay that way. Once when Megan Ketch was still our full time baby sitter, like fifteen years ago, I paid her to reorganize our linen closet. She thought it was a horrible job but she was an expert organizer and needed the money. The linen closet was also the storage area for all extra health and beauty items, so she had to go though years of first aid kits and tiny shampoo bottles from hotels around the world. I have to say that Megan would be happy to know that the linen closet has remained organized since her first big purge.

This is my goal. Get my office done and keep it done for the rest of my life in this house. Once it is complete and the weather gets cooler I promise to tackle the attic. I think it will be about January.

The First Sort is Easy

With Russ off in DC for the day and Carter staying quiet in recovery at home I continued the great clean out of my office after Church. My office has built in book shelves with cabinets and a huge stand alone bookshelf also with cabinets beneath. I have four filing Cabinets and six drawers. Then there are the endless decorative boxes and baskets all filled with random you know what. The goal of this great organization has not been speed, but thoroughness and thus it is moving very slowly.

If you were to come in my office you might not notice how much work has been done at first glance. Yes, you would be hard pressed to look at it today and say, where did the nine garbage bags of stuff already removed hide? It still looks full. It is amazing how much stuff a cabinet can hold. From one I removed two dozen software boxes containing, user manuals, CDs and other documentation for programs I used five or six computers ago. Why did we still have them? Russ thought they were needed for the computers we still had that used them. Why do we still have those computers? Since they are not in my office that is a question for another month’s clean out project.

As I sort and dispose of the unneeded and unwanted I often come across something I keep, like many random photos. I put those aside in another place in my office awaiting the “second sort” where I will put all photos and memorabilia in chronological order and then into scrap books. This is where the real work will begin. I think I stopped printing photos about 2006 so all these photos I am coming across now are pre that date. Sorting them is going to be a brain taxing event.

I do feel better than now I have all three of my glue guns and their associated glue still housed together in one clear plastic shoe box so I can find it when Christmas decoration making comes around. Also sending ten boxes of giant paper lips and an unopened box of industrial sized binder clips to Russ’ office is a better place than at my house. Not much paper is getting clipped here these days.

I hope that I don’t give up on this clean out and reorganization project until it is all done, but I fear even getting to the second sort. Along with photos I have not done my files. This is not as daunting as the photos, but still requires an attention to detail I can’t do while walking on the tread mill. Filing has always been my least favorite task and I can see that my life time of ignoring it is going to catch up with me here. The one thing I know is I don’t want to leave this mess to my child so I figure if I start now I can get it all done before I leave this world. Pray I live a very long time.

The Only Thing About Jersey

There was a very short period of my life when I lived in South Jersey. It was early in our marriage and I moved from DC to Russ’ small house in Palmyra. It was a cute four square house that Russ and I renovated so we could sell it and move to North Carolina. We lived between Jim the lineman for the electric company and Jim the lineman for the telephone company. Needless to say I was madly in love, but ready to move because I was just a little bit of a fish out of water in South Jersey.

There were no good grocery stores, no farmers markets, no one without big hair. The best restaurant in town was the Red Lobster so if you wanted to see a marriage proposal all you had to do was be there on Friday night. The staff was great at hiding the ring inside a lobster tail or a cheddar by biscuit.

There was hardly anything about South Jersey that I thought I was going to miss when we thankfully moved to Durham. I was wrong. I miss the Commerce Bank. Don’t get me wrong, I am perfectly happy with my bank here, mostly because my Banker is my friend, but no bank here had what Commerce Bank had, a coin sorting and counting machine in every lobby of every branch. And it was free to use, even by non-bank customers.

This was long before Coinstar moved into grocery stores and started charging a ridiculous percentage to count and sort your coins. On Saturday morning at Commerce the machine was busy with kids and their coin jars. It was a brilliant marketing tool. Once a kid poured his jar of coins into the machine and got to watch the works as it sorted and counted their money, with a small slip of paper produced at the end with their total which they took to the teller, they were hooked on this bank. I was hooked too. I would carry in a big sack of the coins Russ and I collected and loved turning that annoying change into twenties.

It was a free service. Girl Scout troops would bring their cookie money in, as would people who had yard sales. If I had played Mah Jongg back then I could have brought in my Mah Jongg winnings. Now that we live in a North Carolina I have to sort and roll my own Mah Jongg winnings. I refuse to pay CoinStar a percentage of my hard won gains.

So today, as I rolled my coins I pined away for Commerce Bank and South Jersey. I wonder if the two Jims still live on either side of Russ’ little house. It wasn’t a place that people moved away from, but that was just because they didn’t know they could and they too loved Commerce Bank.

The Only Thing About Jersey

There was a very short period of my life when I lived in South Jersey. It was early in our marriage and I moved from DC to Russ’ small house in Palmyra. It was a cute four square house that Russ and I renovated so we could sell it and move to North Carolina. We lived between Jim the lineman for the electric company and Jim the lineman for the telephone company. Needless to say I was madly in love, but ready to move because I was just a little bit of a fish out of water in South Jersey.

There were no good grocery stores, no farmers markets, no one without big hair. The best restaurant in town was the Red Lobster so if you wanted to see a marriage proposal all you had to do was be there on Friday night. The staff was great at hiding the ring inside a lobster tail or a cheddar by biscuit.

There was hardly anything about South Jersey that I thought I was going to miss when we thankfully moved to Durham. I was wrong. I miss the Commerce Bank. Don’t get me wrong, I am perfectly happy with my bank here, mostly because my Banker is my friend, but no bank here had what Commerce Bank had, a coin sorting and counting machine in every lobby of every branch. And it was free to use, even by non-bank customers.

This was long before Coinstar moved into grocery stores and started charging a ridiculous percentage to count and sort your coins. On Saturday morning at Commerce the machine was busy with kids and their coin jars. It was a brilliant marketing tool. Once a kid poured his jar of coins into the machine and got to watch the works as it sorted and counted their money, with a small slip of paper produced at the end with their total which they took to the teller, they were hooked on this bank. I was hooked too. I would carry in a big sack of the coins Russ and I collected and loved turning that annoying change into twenties.

It was a free service. Girl Scout troops would bring their cookie money in, as would people who had yard sales. If I had played Mah Jongg back then I could have brought in my Mah Jongg winnings. Now that we live in a North Carolina I have to sort and roll my own Mah Jongg winnings. I refuse to pay CoinStar a percentage of my hard won gains.

So today, as I rolled my coins I pined away for Commerce Bank and South Jersey. I wonder if the two Jims still live on either side of Russ’ little house. It wasn’t a place that people moved away from, but that was just because they didn’t know they could and they too loved Commerce Bank.