Thursday Thoughts #21 --- Wardrobe

While I am not a style maven and many people who know me will agree, I do think the praise over Michelle Obama's inaugural wardrobe is a bit hyped. I tend to like sophistication and simplicity or drama and elegance for wardrobe selection on important occasions. Jackie Kennedy represented the first and Nancy Reagen the second. I think the tremendous support for Obama is giving Michelle a bit of a pass with their praise in her wardrobe. I am not awed by what she wore. (But none of this is important in the grand scheme of things anyway.)

I haven't ridden a horse since I was 11 and yet I seem to be enthralled by cowboy boots. They are practical and comfortable...but expensive. I got these beauties for Christmas and have worn them twice. In second photo Xman must have one of my wardrobe genes as he stole these from his grandfather who also has not ridden a horse for decades.

I wish I would have had this outfit below, when my little ones were the age where Mom was still the primary source of sustenance. It is called a h**ter hider and only other mothers know what is going on here. This is my sweet daughter in Williamsburg a year ago.

We have little, if any, snow in our area this year. The weather woman said a few mornings ago that she was going to start a snow-watch. She wanted the children who watch the show to put their pajamas on inside-out and backwards and do a little dance before they get into bed each night! I guess that "wardrobe" is an elective subject in getting a meteorology degree. (Since I started this post we have had an icy snow storm plummet the area. Who knew that weather women and their junior fan club had that kind of weather-power?)

My 'cruise' wardrobe planning is going slowly. What does a white...really white...elderly woman wear on a 4-day cruise? I frequently wish I had Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility . I do not want to hide how I look, but how cool would that be for taking photos of everyone?

Another of my holiday gifts was lounge wear. I got tired of hanging out in faded sweats and yesterday wore a holiday gift --- a lovely soft pink velvet outfit...pants, shell, and hooded jacket around the house. I was doing laundry, cooking, and most importantly keeping a warm fire going in the evening. By bedtime as I changed into nightwear, I realized that I would have been better off wearing the faded and stained sweats. Housework is not for sissies.

In my twenties I wore 5-inch heels, in my thirties I graduated to 4-inch heels, my forties 3-inch and my fifties 2-inch heels. Today I wear comfortable bedroom slippers in the cool weather and go barefoot in warm weather and it seems that one's feet stretch when not routinely confined in shells of leather. I have learned that my feet do ache when wearing some shoes in my closet when I head into the city. Lately I don't get my bra on until midday...from what I have learned about shoes.,this does not bode well for the future. (Not that I need a bra !)

Habitual Carelessness

Retirement has been a wonderful gift for which I am daily thankful. I have good health and reasonable economic security, neither of which I take lightly, as I know like everything else in life, both of these will change over time. My life today has been the result of planning, learning, hard work, but mostly luck. I am lucky to be born in this great country. I was lucky to be able to go to college and pursue a career. I am lucky to have two beautiful and healthy grandchildren and two wonderful children. I am lucky to be married to a patient but energetic man. I was lucky enough to never win the lottery or some contest which would be a true burden in this simple life I now have.

Thus, I do carry some guilt with me as I do not think I have 'earned' this.

I carry some more guilt because I have not yet ventured out to share this time in a structured way with others who are not so lucky in this new community where I live. I am guilty because I do not feel lonely for being able to go for days at a time without meeting or talking to anyone, especially when my husband is on travel. I could so easily be a hermit.

I think this temporary withdrawal is because I was so bitter about the mediocrity and falseness of my last 5 years of employment. I was paid very well by the American taxpayer and not allowed to accomplish anything. I worked with people who created budgets that were never implemented and listed goals and milestones that could not be met without a fixed budget which we never got. It was a Dilbert world without the humor. (Our illustrious leader was a political appointee...need I say more?) Thus, I retired early taking a cut in retirement income. As a Type A, the alternative would have been slitting my wrists.

Perhaps, this procrastination now is because I feel as if I still have wounds to lick and a mind to heal.

But I have also learned that all those times I used to tell myself, "Once I get some free time..." have arrived. "Once I have more free time" I will exercise every day...not happening. I will sew those curtains after the New Year...fabric is still sitting in a plastic bag. I will paint the front room built-in so that it matches the trim...guess I will wait until spring so I can open the windows. I will repaint the trim in the kitchen so that it matches the cabinets...ditto. I will start with babysteps and drop by the local library and see if they need a volunteer or have a list of volunteer programs...soon I hope. I will garden more...that one is easy to do.

It is scary how easy it is to procrastinate especially when there are no immediately seen consequences for your bad habits.

Thursday Thoughts #20 --- Being Thilly

The recent time spent with my grandchildren helps me keep my perspective as I age.

• When the first grandchild was born, my daughter asked what I wanted to be called...grannie? grandma? I said nonna which is an Italian way of saying grandma. Xman's version as he learned to talk converted this to Neeeena. My new granddaughter struggles with pronouncing nonna---now neeena--- and calls me nana. I feel like a fruit.
• My daughter's in-laws wanted to be called Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop and my daughter now says her children do not have grandparents.
• Sha, my granddaughter, was fighting a cold and some intestinal issues during the visit. When her mother said one afternoon, "Oh no, there she blows!" this meant one of two things, neither of which I will detail.
• Sha spent many minutes each day with her nose pressed to the window to watch the birds at the feeder. That window now looks like some abstract art as it is covered in snot.
• My daughter and I could only exchange short sentences due to toddler interruptions and got very good in talking in code as we tried to have adult conversations throughout the long weekend.
• I continue to find little things as I clean the house...an empty sippy cup, a little ball, a lego piece and I have to take a deep breath so that I don't tear up.
• The place at the foot of my bed where Xman's portable bed goes when he visits seems very bare after he leaves. I am just getting used to sleeping without the night light.
• While putting on Xman's shoes for his departure I said that winter was very cold outside but I was sad we have not had any real snow yet. He took my face in his two little hands, brought his face close to mine, and looked me in the eye and said "You have to be patient, Neena. It will snow."
  
  
• Chocolate cake works every time!

The Gene Pool

When this little gal was born all her elders played that familiar guessing game of who she took after. Many of us agreed that she looked very much like her paternal grandfather who is a handsome, sometimes funny, and usually simple and conservative man. But I am of the opinion that looks don't count for everything and children frequently become a blend of their elders good and bad characteristics. Therefore, I sometimes look for something of myself in her eager personality and activities.

My daughter took the photos below while I was playing a game with my grandson. As you can see, the gardener in me seems to have inspired the gardener in her. I am hoping this is a sign of the future where we can plant and cut flowers, grow and taste the freshest of vegetables, and perhaps, create little garden rooms of imagination and fantasy.

The Big Event

The past few days have been an exciting lead up to one of the most important days in the history of our nation. The BBC is setting aside 5 HOURS for this event, so I do not think it is hyperbole to say it is a very significant time in our history. This is one of the most anticipated inaugurations in our nation's history and also one of the most protected. I will not detail the 3,000 restrictions that are being placed on attendees including carrying nothing larger than a lunch bag to some of the areas. My lovely daughter and her two children are fleeing the area and joining me at the house late Sunday night through Tuesday evening...or perhaps staying until Wednesday morning. She is not going in to work on Monday or Tuesday. Why is this, one might ask?

• The highway and bridge she takes to get into work will be closed as will every other bridge in the immediate area.
• The garage beneath her office where she regularly parks, which is about a mile from the Capital, will be closed to the public.
• Everyone will be forced to take Metro or a bus or walk. (The Metro is a VERY crowded trip on the 4th of July when there are fewer people coming to the city.)
• The events begin Sunday and go through Tuesday.
• There will be hundreds of celebrities.
• They are predicting 4 to 5 million people will attend. It will be miserably cold, so I am predicting about 2 million people.
• Someone said there will be 5,000 port-a-potties and an 'expert' analysis said that is not near the amount needed. (That should be fun in cold weather.)
• Every hotel is full and some folks are renting their apartments for $1,000...my son, whose apartment is walking distance from a nearby metro station, considered this but then got cold feet as the day grew closer.
• There will be great concerts...some free and some requiring tickets.
• There will be a parade...a very cold parade unless you are marching in it.
• There will be 10 inaugural balls (and no place to sit at these balls if one wears high heels.)
• Therefore, even those attending will have to brace themselves for a challenging event. My daughter is afraid she won't make it to work...much less make it home to pick up the kids from day care on those days.

And thus, I will not have the courage to go myself, even though I think it is a big deal. I will raise a glass of bubbly to the big screen TV and wish him a decent first 100 days but not expect more than is realistic in these difficult times. (For a little more inspiration...go here.)

Life Stories #23--The Mark, the Patsy, the Dupe

Years ago, when I was living in Indonesia, I spent much time discovering many wonderful temples and architectural wonders in this exotic country. One of my very favorite places to visit was the famous Buddhist temple of Borobudur, "a mountain of a thousand statues." When it had been excavated and the jungle cleared by the British governor, Sir Thomas Standford Raffles, the temple was open to theft and destruction over the ensuring years and that can be seen when touring the temple.

After newly arriving in Jogajakarta, and once the rainy season had slowed and the muddy roads had dried, my family and I went to visit this famous temple for the first time. This temple is one of the most visited Buddhist temples by tourists from all over the world, and can be quite crowded most days. There is a narrow initial entry, and as we approached the steps, the ventura effect of the narrower entry with the wave of many tourists caused us to be pushed closer and closer together until we were shoulder to shoulder with many others. There was a young man in front of me assisting a frail elderly woman make her way slowly up the steps. The crowd flowed around me on either side and as I was pushed forward into the couple tried very hard not to knock them to the ground. The elderly woman was barely able to make it up each step and it was impossible for me to get around the pair and so I accepted my fate of inching upwards. People kept pushing me from behind and it took all my energy to just maintain my balance.

Finally we reached the plateau above, and the crowd dispersed and I could breathe again. I pull the canvas bag from off my shoulder where its weight had caused some strain and that was when I notice a clean razor cut in the side small pocket where my wallet of Rupiahs and my International driver's license had been stored. I knew immediately when and how it had happened and did not bother looking for the team of thieves.

Several years later I was vacationing with my husband and children in Spain. We had arrived a few days before in Madrid and were getting an early morning start for a drive to the ancient city of Toledo. Hubby was having some health problem, which I cannot recall, and so we parked the car at the side of a lovely tree-lined street and he walked across to a corner pharmacy. I waited in the rental car with the two little ones in the back seat. The early morning light was lovely and golden as it filtered through the trees. A young and very attractive man stepped out of the nearby alley ahead of the car and leaned against a brick wall and smoked a cigarette enjoying the morning. A middle aged couple, just beyond him up the sidewalk, were sauntering arm and arm towards us lost in each others company. In less than three seconds as they passed the man he had removed the purse from her shoulder. She let out a small scream and tried to hang on, but was too slow in reaction. The man disappeared down the alley with her purse. The couple ran after him, but he evaporated into some well planned escape route. By the time hubby returned to the car with his curative, I had decided to be far more alert the rest of the day.

Again, several more years have passed, and one spring afternoon I had left my work for a meeting in downtown Washington D.C. It was April, the Cherry Blossom Festival was in full swing, the weather was wonderful, and I left my meeting early deciding to play hooky the last hour of the day and walk under the Cherry Blossoms at the end of the Mall. As I crossed the Mall a woman of about 35 approached me. She asked if I knew where the Metro station was. I was slightly suspicious but pointed the way. Then she asked if I knew how much it would cost to go from point A to point B. I told her that they had posted the rates at the station and again started to walk away.

She immediately began to follow me and launched into a long and detailed story of how she had passed out from some illness the night before at a restaurant, had been rushed to the emergency room of a city hospital, had called her sitter that night to watch over her daughter, and had just been released this morning. Her Priest had sat up with her all night and both were relieved when her illness proved to be minor. Her priest had just dropped her off to take a metro home and she realized that she had absolutely no money in her purse. Did I have any dollars to loan her? She had to get home and release her sitter.

I stopped in my tracks and studied this very intelligent face. It was a very compelling story and I cannot replicate the skill with which it was told in this writing. But, even though I knew this was a scam, there was something making it hard for me not to believe her. I took a breath and then looking her in the eye, I told her she should go into acting. She said something to me in response that I cannot write here. But the little Catholic woman had learned some pretty saucy language outside of her church. She stomped away already looking for her next victim. Had she broken into tears, perhaps I would have given some money.

And then just a few years ago I had blogged about this little incident.

Messin' Around

These photos are somewhat degraded as I resized for the blog, but I am having so much fun today with Paint Shop Pro. I have used this software for years, but never really got into some of the nicer features. As I wrote, I have downsized the photos above for blogger. For instance, my son's girlfriend is gone from the photo above. Any photographic detective could see it on the full resolution image, but not your average viewer. (I am not removing her from the photos by the way...just experimenting.) And then the poor photo of the red-bellied woodpecker which I shot through the dining room window (no way I am going outside) has been greatly enhanced. It is not a great shot, but you should have seen the before!

Thursday Thoughts # 18 -- Things I Have Learned from Mother Nature

Mother Nature never throws anything away. She always recycles. But, we live in a culture where it is considered good for our society to get rid of the old stuff and make room for the new stuff. This includes housing and so a healthy economy means we build more houses and sell more houses. We buy more stuff and get rid of old stuff. This is good for the economy. When I continue thinking along this path it all looks more and more like a giant pyramid scheme to me.

The old adage about bending like the willow so that you don't break leaves out all the gray nuances in life such as when you bend, and maybe aren't watching, sometimes someone will come along and chop off your head or make you feel as if they have while you are trying to adjust to some major change in your life! (another post)

Some days I don't feel as industrious or energetic as I think I should at this elder age and then I see this:

and realize I have not a clue about industriousness and probably wasn't very high energy when I was younger either, and then I try not to be so hard on myself.

When we first bought this vacant peninsula of land a lovely swan greeted us at the dock as we ate our recently purchased Dunkin Doughnuts' breakfast. I forbade my husband to feed the swan as I didn't want swan poop all over the dock in the future. Today, years later, two lovely swans were cruising near the dock and I handed hubby a slice of stale bread and told him to go down to the dock and feed them. They swam eagerly forward, picked at the stale bread, turned up their noses and swam away. Even in nature fresh ingredients are important.

Having a good group of friends to hang out with and party all night is one honest way to make it through a long cold winter. Boy were they noisy last night!


Below is another less demanding way to pass the gray winter days but I think just as psychologically restorative. (As anal as I have been criticized for being I did not screw the containers together alphabetically!)

The Invitation

I got this in the mail the other day. It does not mean I am important because anyone who contributed to Obama's campaign probably got one of these. I have gotten invites years ago from Bill and Hillary, but they looked more like invites to a 'party' whereas (note the use of the archaic here) this one looks like an official document, is letter size, card weight and is even embossed.

The odd thing (other than the fact that I am not going) is that this also came along with an ad for a half dozen items I could purchase to remember the important event. Mugs, coins, whatevah. That sort of took away the dignity of the whole thing for me. Having worked with archivists who preserve realia for a living I am not much of a memorabilia collector. Just something more to dust or store.

Leftovers

Nothing like following up a post about losing weight with a post about food. But I actually used a Good Housekeeping recipe (instead of putting it in a notebook for oblivion) the other day for Peruvian Fish Soup. My husband had traveled years ago in Equador and said he had eaten a Peruvian fish stew that was very good and so I had to try this when I found it. It turned out so delish that I am going to share. And, yes, it is relatively healthy and low-calorie.

1TBsp. veg oil
1 med onion chopped
1 Serrano or jalapeno chile (we used two but made sure to remove the seeds)
2 cloves fresh garlic
1 tsp ground cumin
2 bottles clam juice (I only had one, but it didn't seem to hurt the flavor)
1 can diced tomatoes
2 cups water
1 lb. red potatoes in 1 inch chunks
2 limes
1 1/2 lbs cod fillet (I had a pound of frozen bass from last summer's catch)
1/2 pound med scallops (bought these on the day --kind of expensive!)
1/2 pound clean squid (I opted out of this ingredient after spending the $$ on scallops)
1/4 cup loosely packed cilantro chopped.

This soup was divine and just a little hotter then next day after all the spices mingled. If you want the directions to prepare this ( it take 20 minutes to prepare and about another 30 to cook), let me know in the comments below and I will email you!

Pretentious Vanity

It is pretentious for me to hit my sixties and say that I do not care how I look. I have drawers full of cosmetics and face creams and hair goo. If I didn't care how I looked, I would throw all of these out and go plain Jane. I do go plain on most days. Putting on only moisturizer and hair conditioner to keep me from flaking away. Some folks were born into that gene pool of aging gracefully and look just as good without makeup as they do with it. Sissy Spacek comes to mind. She looks 16 and has looked like a teenager her whole life.

I don't care how I look (just stop by for a visit) when I am lounging around the house, when I am cleaning the house, when I am stacking wood, blogging in the early morning or when I am digging a garden bed. I really do not care, because the evidence of my actions excuses my messy looks.

I care just a little how I look when I have gotten through rolling on the floor with a toddler, cooking a rather industrious meal for guests, or changing planes at the airport. I do want a brush through my hair and some lipstick help before I settle into that next plane for hours.

But, I am nervously vain about appearances when I am going on vacation to areas where the climate insures that one does not wear many clothes. All the make-up and hair spray will not make me look healthy in a swimsuit.

Last year we agreed to a Disney Cruise with my daughter and her in-laws this coming April. Yes, a cruise where the majority of passengers are below 3 feet in height. Yes, we agreed to being confined on the ocean on a boat with tiny cabins and hundreds of busy activities run by scary high energy employees in costumes...not my idea of a vacation, especially when you shell out such sums of money for this. But I was determined in my elder years to be more generous in avoiding regrets by failing to do things in life that seemed regrettable and thanked them for remembering us and purchased the tickets.

My appearance concern starts escalating because I will be with a 60-something grandma that has a lovely figure and two nicely built thirty-something females, one of whom used to be a professional cheerleader. You know the type, artificial breasts, straight blond hair and the sweetest little face. I have been trying (without success and empathizing each day with Oprah) to lose about 10 more pounds so that I don't look like a walking light bulb. Yes, a low watt bulb, a dim bulb but a bulb none-the-less. I am a healthy grandma. I am not asking for a 50 pound re-make here, just a little reshaping.

Can I lift 12 pound free weights for 20 reps ? Yes. Can I run a 3 minute mile? Yes. Can I do 80% of that nasty yoga tape before collapsing in a sodden lump on the mat? Yes. Can I do 5 minutes of very intense ab work? Yes. Can I lose more weight around my mid-section? Apparently not.

Last week I avoided the 3 ten-minute miles on the elliptical every other day (YES, dear readers, 3 TEN MINUTE MILES(!)) in favor of an old 'Firm' tape that used to push me to the limit with both weights and aerobics. The d**n thing runs for a full 55 minutes and I was determined to make it through the entire excruciating ordeal at this re-start of a new direction in my weight loss program.

I made it. My form was somewhat sloppy, but I made it to the end of the tape. I was sweating and breathing heavy...but I made it.

The very next day I could barely make it out of bed. That afternoon it felt as if knives had been plunged into my thighs, buttocks and calves. The day following that I took that forest hike I had written about on my other blog and I honestly thought I would DIE from the pain of just walking. The vision of being carried out on a stretcher by two forest rangers did not seem unrealistic. Two more days and some yoga later and I still consider it a torture to go up the stairs to blog in the morning. I still take Aleve when I fall into bed at night. I still have not lost the 10 pounds! Yes I have gained a pound...sure, you can tell me it is muscle, but it didn't land anywhere useful that I can see.

Vanity is a most poisonous sin but it does not eat you from the inside out...at least not so it shows.

Being in the Moment

Honoring my ongoing promise to myself to be more 'in the moment', I fixed a dinner of rosemary lamb chops, garlic and curry roast potatoes, and a healthy baby spinach salad with orange-wedges (from my favorite clementines), thin red onion slices and almonds. The meal was beautiful to look at and in honor of being in the moment I did not rush away to take a picture for the blog. (The picture above was taken on another day with silly glasses that do not match.) I took my time to inhale each captivating smell as I sat down for dinner, and while we do not say grace, I was thankful in my heart and soul and to the powers that be for this meal. I slowly chewed each bite of food and let the flavors linger before swallowing. My husband and I respected the value and precious quality of this meal and the quiet time we had to linger over it.

My husband had made a fresh pitcher of cold green tea and in keeping with the spirit of the moment I brought the glass to my nose to inhale as if it were a fine wine before taking my first sip. The green tea had been enhanced with a sliver of the little kaffir lime that had clung to the tree for months before falling to the floor when I turned the tree in the sun that morning. When I inhaled, the aroma was like a verdant spark. It was lime but not lime. It was like a sweet floral perfume but not heavy or out of place. It was better than even drinking the lovely green tea itself. This gift from the 4 foot citrus plant in a green plastic pot tucked in the corner window was one of the best gifts I got over the holiday season.

I will try to be in the moment more often.

Venezia

"Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee, And was the safeguard of the West."
Author: William Wordsworth

The husband has found a new good friend and like puppy dogs they have taken this mild winter day off to do what is shown above. They have driven down south with a boat in tow and will spend the night in a hotel. Thus I have two precious half days to myself.

In the last few hours I have just finished reading:


and was feeling a little cold and wet like the characters in this mystery that trudged through Venice in search of the murderer during the high water season.



I put on the above music, which was a holiday gift, as I prepared a light and warming lunch and when finished eating I continued my immersion in all things Italian.

As I sat on the couch, I tucked my stockinged feet under me and opened Michael Krondl's "The Taste of Conquest" which is about the "rise and fall of three great cities of spice" and once again found myself back in Venice but at a much earlier time when European involvement in the spice trade flourished. And, of course, the first city he visits is Venice. It appears that Venice began with salt and war...no surprise there and since they controlled the trade sold salt to Italy at an 80% profit.


I visited Venice a number of years ago and it is a city that is overwhelming in its beauty and somewhat frightening in it decadence. It is my understanding that because the city is sinking its population is dwindling. All things change and nothing stays the same.

Well, excuse me, must get back to my reading.

Re-arranging the Furniture

The danger of changing ones blog is like the danger of changing the furniture placement in your house. If your family has been away for a while they can stub their toes as they come inside and then may look around and wonder if they entered the wrong house. Blogs styles become familiar and comfortable to readers but I was getting bored with the Tuscan architecture. Let's see if I can stay happy with this.

Thursday Thoughts #17 for the New Year

Looking back is not something I enjoy doing as the road back is longer than it used to be and the scenery starts to blur as I squint to that far horizon.

1. 2008 was a big year for me as I retired in so many ways...not just from the daily grind. I began to let go.
2. 2008 was the year I got better at being a grandma. Instead of staring at how fast they were growing I started to participate in the event.
3. In 2008 I lost 10 pounds...no more and no less...but there is yet 2009.
4. In 2008 I evolved into a much better cook with the time to be creative and invented new dishes with all the herbs from my garden and ideas I gleaned and modified from my many cookbooks. I learned that you can teach an old dog (cook) new tricks.
5. In 2008, speaking of gourmet cooking, I made S'mores with the grandson and I haven't made S'mores in decades!
6. I have pretty much taken 2008 as a laid back vacation doing only what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. I am so thankful for such luxury.
7. In 2008 I lost 100's of thousands of dollars (I have lived pretty frugally most of my life) in the stock market and I don't care because I realize I don't need much in this new life I am living.
8. I do need $1.99 persimmons and I splurged and bought 4 of these beauties yesterday.
9. In 2008 I did not beat myself up for wanting alone time anymore and accept the fact that this is one of the ways I charge my batteries and restore my soul.
10. In 2008 I also accepted the fact that just looking at a flower or interesting plant this year can restore my soul for the rest of the day.
11. In 2008 I also learned how high energy my husband is and I am trying to meet his needs as we walk together into these days ahead.
12. 2008 was the year my youngest turned 30. That was harder on me in many ways then when I turned 60!
13. My resolution this year will be to get back on a schedule and try to give more of this precious time I have to others.

I made it to 13 and that must bode well for the New Year, doncha think?

The Dinner

The restaurant she had selected was a high-end seafood chain located in the Galleria near the more expensive stores. She had hoped that the empty parking spaces outside were a clue that the restaurant would be quiet inside, but the holiday season had packed both the bar at the front and the tables in the various rooms with festive customers.

She and her husband were led to a room near the far back and that helped reduce the din. Trying to look a little fashionable, she had carefully dressed in a loose fitting black turtle neck sweater and a faux suede skirt cut on the bias that allowed her new tan and dark brown cowboy boots to show. The weather had turned unusually warm which meant the brown tights she had decided to wear instead of a slip were making her a little uncomfortable. Her husband, who spent much of the last few weeks in jeans and sweatshirts, had found it more difficult to dress wanting to wear the new mock turtleneck sweater he had gotten as a gift and finding most of his slacks too dressy for the casual knit. He finally decided on a faded pair of Dockers. They looked like a typical middle class retired couple pushing unsuccessfully for an upper middle class look.

Their waiter arrived almost immediately upon being seated. His head was covered by a thick heavy thatch of dark hair shooting every which way and his face was covered by a dark beard making him look very much like a terrorist rather than a waiter, but his smile was easy as he filled the water glasses. She ordered a holiday cocktail to help her relax and her husband ordered the usual soda water.

They both checked their phones for messages and then made idle conversation hiding the slight tension as they waited for the third party to arrive. She had called him twice during the afternoon and didn't get an answer. Finally she pressed upon her husband to call him once again just before they parked the car, and that was when their son returned the call to say he was finishing the final load of laundry and would be running a little late.

They were in the middle of the 'calamari trio' appetizer when their son showed up dressed casually and with his favorite torn jeans. (Did every pair he owned have torn pockets?) He order a soda and she had mixed feelings about his avoidance of a bottle of beer. It was good because he had to drive out later to his apartment and meet up with friends for the rest of his birthday celebration, but she wondered if this meant he would keep his guard up during the entire meal.

Small talk about the crowds and the holidays and the sales drifted into talk about the Christmas day memories with the little toddlers. She and her husband ordered the special with the recommended glass of wine. By the time they were well into their entrees the conversation had drifted comfortably into politics and religion. The subjects that all were in agreement on and safe in discussing during the rest of the meal.

As the final espresso was ordered her son began a story about a friend of his and the friend's girlfriend at a recent night out. Her son had been scolded by the girlfriend because he had brought another friend of his with two twenty-something sisters who were in town for the holiday. The girlfriend seemed to think he was trying to fix her boyfriend up with one of the sisters and angrily reprimanded him, and the whole event sounded like the Bachelorette or one of those other inane junior high level reality shows of this thirty-something generation where the women are so insecure that only 20k of plastic surgery will calm them down.

At the end of the story, her son smiled and said he felt sorry for his friend and then said he was glad he wasn't dating anyone right now.

They paid the bill and then walked to their cars and exchanged some gifts and Christmas cookies she had made. She hugged and kissed him goodbye and drank in the smell of him under the aftershave, perhaps clinging a little too long as she knew it would probably be months before she could get their paths to cross again. He opened the door to his car and gave them that familiar sideways smile and little wave before he ducked inside.

Well, she thought to herself, that went as well as can be expected.

Notes on "Busy"

Val was so kind to comment on the post below. In answer, my days were filled with a visit to the Botanical Gardens in Washington, D.C. which have the best display of miniature trains interspersed with houses, figures, etc. all made from plant life. It is a magical land and captured both the granddaughter and grandson and it was free.

I also went to the grandson's pre-school holiday program. This included quite a number of songs that they had memorized and a jingle bell ringing as they sang Jingle Bells. As you can probably imagine, the little boys got quite carried away with the bells wringing as they had been standing still for most of the program.

Holiday at the daughter's house was wonderful with Xman understanding the gift part of Christmas for the first time. He was so excited and thrilled to be passing out gifts to everyone. My son came early the night before and I was overjoyed to spend time with him and see that he seemed to be weathering the recent breakup with some balance. I hope to see him tomorrow for dinner.

Busy, Busy, Busy

Been just a little busy and except for the first photo you can see I have been away from the house. The arrow in the first photo is to illustrate the numerous places that busy hands go while you are measuring flour. You may need to click on the photo to understand.

I am now catching up on blog reading.

Away Today

Life Story #22- The Rest of the Story

As some readers may recall, we left our newly married royal couple in a small cabin in the woods as the night was falling in the tropical forest with what seemed like a not so happy ending. Fortunately, with the resilience of the young they awoke to a much brighter day and after a breakfast of eggs and fried breadfruit and sliced papaya, they packed their chariot to begin the second day of the 'rest of their honeymoon.'

A wedding couple does not have to stay in a 4 star hotel for a beautiful honeymoon on the Big Island, because most of the real tropical beauty is away from the hotel's boring swimming pools and crowded beaches. (Besides if you are graduate students, you barely have two nickels much less $200 for a night in a hotel.)

Hawaii is called the 'orchid isle' and it lives up to this name with orchids growing wild everywhere, even along the roadside, causing the Princess on their second day to ask the Prince to stop the chariot every few minutes so that she could bury her face in their sweet smelling blossoms. A drive down the 'chain of craters' road where they eventually had to come to a complete stop because of the cold lava that merged like frozen molasses across the road, amazed them both.

Hours later, the newly-weds danced under the giant tree ferns, picked ginger blossoms for the dashboard of their chariot, visited historic Cook's Monument at Kealakakua Bay, let their fingers trace centuries-old petroglyphs in the volcanic stones nearby, explored dark lava tubes and soon forgot about the prior day's disaster.

But when they stopped for a family-style lunch at Volcano House, they were reminded of the prior day's debacle as they sat at a large, rustic, round table with the other tourists for a family style meal. The initial noise of the restaurant was that of normal conversations among happy tourists, but at their table the conversation among the fellow diners dwindled immediately into uncomfortable silence as people politely passed food and surreptitiously directed side glances toward the Prince with his oddly deformed lip. This deformity also meant his enunciation was muddled and the Princess had to speak for him when he needed food passed. Suddenly the Princess realized what it must be like to be a person with a deformity in a society where everyone else is "normal." This was an eyeopener and gave the Princess a new appreciation for the "commoner".

The Princess explained that they were on their honeymoon and had had an early mis-adventure with a honey-bee. The atmosphere at the table immediately thawed and idle conversation began once again with everyone wishing them a happy future.

The following days were somewhat of a blur visiting Pahoehoe Point, Kamuela, Kohala Road, and Saddle Road, until on the next to the last day the couple reached the end point of a paved road at Pololu Valley. This point is the start of goat trails to five deep and beautiful valleys on this side of the island. The royal couple had brought their rustic backpacks and proceeded to descend into the northern most valley, Pololu, by following a trail down a 420-foot cliff face that zigged and zagged sharply toward the bottom. (Reminder, this team was not very worldly).

When they reached the valley the cool ocean breeze across the crescent beach was very welcoming. They paused for the traditional peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunch (not exactly gourmet) and then climbed up the next very steep ridge and descended into the next valley. The climbing and descending were so totally exhausting that after crossing a number of streams, the small shelter of Australian pine trees at the base of the valley near the ocean was immediately chosen as the evenings camp spot. The royal team set up a primitive campsite which consisted of two sleeping bags, a plastic drop cloth and some cooking utensils---such luxury.

During the day as they had crossed each river in both valleys, the Princess noticed that the streams were filled with dead or dying, floating, dangerously red centipedes and the evening music that accompanied that night's dinner was the sound of a nearby violently crashing surf against the rocks blending with the sounds of squealing wild pigs up in the valley. The Princess had visions of either drowning in the encroaching surf waters, being attacked by a wild boar, or being bitten by one of the four-inch long centipedes that had washed down the valley and that could seek shelter in her sleeping bag.

The plastic drop cloth that was to be used as protection from the impending rain, became a sail that captured the choking campfire smoke when the wind changed direction from blowing onshore to blowing offshore---as any naturalist would have known. Not much honeymoon lovemaking or much sleep for that matter took place! (Looking back on this beginning it is a wonder that we ever had any children.)

The Royal Couple survived this final night of celebration of their marriage and looking like mud-covered warriors and being given second and third glances by the mainland tourists in the parking area, they returned to their chariot to begin the life of a more normal couple. But that is several other life stories and adventures for a later book.