Back to My Reality


Vacation is over. It’s now back to my reality:

  1. Trapping feral cats to halt their baby-making capabilities reminiscent of Octomom and her 14 kids.Octomom and kids
  2. Playing tennis in my ongoing attempt to serve an ace before I die. Accomplishing that feat is so far fetched, it likely would result in my opponent having a heart attack from the sheer absurdity of it. So let’s skip this one, shall we?
  3. Continuing to manage 7 animals…like stopping Jack from pouncing on Savannah, cleaning up after Oliver’s hairballs, keeping Nellie from eating poop in the backyard and trying to get Tippy to sit anywhere but in front of my monitor. tippi blocking computer
  4. Enjoying time spent with friends. Oh wait! That’s what I was doing on vacation. Hmm…appears I have a pretty nice life. Gotta love retirement…

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Deja Vu All Over Again

I hate to beat a dead horse. In fact I hate to beat anything, let alone a dead horse. What kind of a saying is that anyway? Now don’t get me wrong. Today I’m not writing about beating horses so you can just forget the opinion you’ve just formed that I’m a dead-animal-beater. I mean really, what’s wrong with you?

No, today’s blog is about how apropos my last blog was. You see, as I write this, I’m on a plane to Texas to meet my friend Sharon and help her unpack hundreds of boxes shipped from her and Jim’s previous home in Perth, Australia, to her current home outside Houston. Being the kind, considerate, thoughtful and giving person I am, I offered to help her unpack. Continue reading

The Big Apple

nycFive friends and I just returned from New York. Three of them had never been so we took 6 days and did every touristy thing imaginable. We rose early and didn’t hit the sack until early the next morning. I’m now home sick (not to be mistaken with homesick). So if this blog makes no sense, there you go.

I won’t bore you with all the places we went and things we did, but trust me, we did it all and saw it all. Instead I’ll tell you the good and the bad of what happens when 6 women travel together for 6 days.

From left: Sharon, Patty, Janet, Sue, Pam, Karen

From left: Sharon, Patty, Me, Sue, Pam, Karen

We started splendidly, getting to SFO in plenty of time. Already a victory with 6 women, wouldn’t you say? When we noticed our boarding passes said TSA pre-approved, we high-fived our luck, knowing we’d pass quickly through security. I did, however, somehow manage to misplace mine between checking in and the security gate. (Found it.)

Anyhow, we stayed in Brooklyn in a family-oriented community called Carroll Gardens where Brownstones line streets framed with beautiful old trees.

Our Brownstone

In front of our rental

Our first meal in Brooklyn was rather late so when we got to the restaurant, they were out of most menu items. Pam ended up with tomato soup we’re pretty certain was a cup of spaghetti out to dinner

The next day we headed for the World Trade Center but before we reached the subway, Sue realized she forgot her scarf. We waited while she ran back for it. Once she joined us again, she discovered she’d forgotten her purse. And they say I’m the one who forgets things.

World Trade Center Memorial Fountain

World Trade Center Memorial Fountain

Anxious to try New York’s famous Cronut (croissant-doughnut pastry), we visited Dominique Ansel Bakery. Our opinion? Save the calories for a Serendipity Sundae as big as your head.

Cronuts, among other goodies. And yes, we at them all

Cronuts, among other goodies. And yes, we ate them all

A Serendipity sundae

A Serendipity sundae

nyc serendipity Sisters Patty and Karen will talk to a wall, so on our subway rides they became best friends with anyone sitting near them, from gangster-looking fellows to elderly ladies. People on subways tend to keep to themselves; there’s little talking. But not whenever we boarded a train. We conversed with everyone around us. Seems a simple smile and hello go a long way, even on a New York subway.

Waiting for the subway

Waiting for the subway

We actually found New Yorker’s to be very friendly. Maybe they took pity on us obvious tourists with our map. Everyone we encountered was pleasant except for the owner of a bakery in Brooklyn. He was like the soup Nazi from the Seinfeld program. He was so rude I thought he was joking. But no.soup naziGoing home, we hired a driver to take us and our boatload of luggage to the airport. Felix was awesome and got us there with time to spare. Then we realized Karen’s luggage wasn’t in the car. Holy crap.

Felix drove back for it with our promise to make it worth his while. But he narrowly missed the cutoff to check luggage, so Patty stayed with Karen and they took a later flight home. They didn’t get in until 2:30 a.m., 7 1/2 hours after our scheduled arrival.

Us abandoning Patty and Karen at JFK

Us abandoning Patty and Karen at JFK

We, on the other hand, didn’t have it much better. President Obama was at SFO so we were stuck in the plane on the tarmac for 3 extra hours. I almost regretted voting for him.

Damn Obama

Guess I’ll watch my fourth movie

All told, we took planes, trains, automobiles and a boat. We spent 146 hours together and shared a home with only 1 1/2 baths for 6 women. We walked 56 miles, eating, drinking and sightseeing our way through Manhattan. And best of all?

We returned home not hating each other one single bit.

NYC backdrop

NYC backdrop

Empire State Building

Empire State Building

Times Square

Times Square

No Place Like Home

Okay, so I slacked off this past week. I went on vacation with 5 girlfriends and ignored my laptop. Hey, can you blame me? But I’m not leaving you high and dry. What does that saying mean, anyway? So I decided to re-post one of my previous blogs which is similar to what next week’s blog will feature. Except it will be entirely different. Confused? I know how short some people’s attention spans are (not that yours is) and I’d hate to make that awful mistake of boring you with redundant material. Only I’m doing that this week, aren’t I? Hum…you have a point there. In that case, I’m relying on your poor memory not to recall this February 2013 blog. So sit back, relax, get your cup-o-joe, maybe a nice danish and enjoy No Place Like Home.

Don’t Be Stupid

happy birthdayOn Wednesday my friend Sharon turned 58. For this I’m grateful for two reasons:

a) she’s like a sister and, 2) she saved my life.

A much younger Sharon and me

Sharon and me in our younger days

Now don’t get me wrong; Sharon didn’t give me her bone marrow or anything. Not that she wouldn’t if I needed it. No, she saved me in a more adventurous way.

As you know if you’re a faithful reader, I once blogged about our rafting trip, Who You Callin’ an Adrenaline Junkie? But this time I’m writing about it from a I’m-grateful-to-be-alive perspective.alive Continue reading