Gotta Be Something in the Water

southern kindness

If there’s one thing I’ve noticed during my travels to the South, besides the abundance of fried food, is how dang friendly Southerners are. Could it be something in their water that makes  them happy? Is that why they’re always smiling? Seriously, I want to know their secret.

secret

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying friendlies (as I call them) don’t live anywhere else. But ya gotta admit the largest concentration of friendlies seem to be in regions with twangs or drawls. Take Tennessee, for instance. Continue reading

Getting Lost

Remember way back before apps like Waze came along to get us where we’re going? Sadly, I do. Here’s a post from March, 2015 that makes me happy I no longer rely on Stella, my old GPS..compassI have absolutely no sense of direction. Consequently I’m always lost. That’s unless I’m armed with a device that talks to me and leads the way. In fact, I’m not even sure how I got anywhere until good old GPS came along. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m being serious.

Back in the day, before MapQuest and various technological inventions navigated for us, we relied on paper maps and verbal directions. It was hell. But getting around now is much simpler. Having a sucky sense of direction should no longer be a handicap, right? One would think. But my GPS (Stella) just happens to be directionally challenged.

Stella

Sometimes I’ll test Stella even when I know where I’m going. I’ll enter the address, hit the gas and see what transpires. Invariably, she takes the longest route. Sometimes I think she’s high or maybe in the throes of dementia. Simply put, much of the time Stella has absolutely no idea where she’s going. So that makes two of us. Continue reading

Getting Lost

Remember way back before apps like Waze came along to get us where we’re going? Sadly, I do. Here’s a post from March, 2015 that makes me happy I no longer rely on Stella, my old GPS..compassI have absolutely no sense of direction. Consequently I’m always lost. That’s unless I’m armed with a device that talks to me and leads the way. In fact, I’m not even sure how I got anywhere until good old GPS came along. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m being serious.

Back in the day, before MapQuest and various technological inventions navigated for us, we relied on paper maps and verbal directions. It was hell. But getting around now is much simpler. Having a sucky sense of direction should no longer be a handicap, right? One would think. But my GPS (Stella) just happens to be directionally challenged.

Stella

Sometimes I’ll test Stella even when I know where I’m going. I’ll enter the address, hit the gas and see what transpires. Invariably, she takes the longest route. Sometimes I think she’s high or maybe in the throes of dementia. Simply put, much of the time Stella has absolutely no idea where she’s going. So that makes two of us. Continue reading

No Place Like Home

Re-posted from 2013.

I love to travel, experience different cultures, see how the rest of the world lives. There are many fascinating places I want to visit before I become too decrepit in mind, body or spirit to pack my suitcase. But I also enjoy vacationing in the good-old-USA. Even northern California offers so much that I sometimes wonder why I venture anywhere else.

Recently, I went to Spain, where my godson Eric is a college exchange student in San Sebastian. Talk about a picturesque place. He lives just a couple blocks from La Concha Beach, with golden sand like superfine sugar.

La Concha Beach La Concha Beach

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Vacation Time!

vacation time

It’s not often I get an opportunity to take a vacation. Too many animals, too much to do, never enough time. Well, this time I said pshaw! to all that then called my sister to come pet sit my menagerie of eight. She actually loves it. I know, strange, huh? Next thing I knew I was in Charleston, South Carolina with Sharon, who dropped her hubby off for a boys week of golfing.

Sharon and Jim Ireland

Ready to tee off

Well, you know what they say, don’t you? While the cat’s away, the mice will play. And boy did we play.

mice dancing

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