Hunger Pangs

Eating has taken a weird turn since January here at the ranch.

For one thing I swear to you I'm spending at least $300.00 a month less on food than I did when Tom was here. How is that even possible?? He was, after all, only one man....

And Lord knows I'M still eating all the time!! One look at me will tell you that.

We used to sit down five or six nights a week at the dining room table with real china and fabric napkins in cutesy holders, even; now, I'm lucky if that happens once every 8-10 days.

No one seems to want to create an actual balanced meal and sit down like civilized folk to partake!??

Last night, for example, (and remember... I have a house guest!)we had fried shrimp which involved creating the beer batter and then deep frying real honest-to-God prawns - that was my job. And broccoli which Suzy prepared and cooked and served. But somehow - still - the dining room table was forsaken when Thom ate on the lanai in front of the opening night of the ice hockey season while Suzy, Laura and I ate all scrunched up at the dinette table in the kitchen.

Never once did anyone even gravitate toward the dining room.

I look in my fridge and am overwhelmed by the array of fabulous leftovers available when I can't even remember eating the honest-to-god MEAL from which the leftovers came???? There's shrimp salad (self explanatory as per last night), chicken lo mein, cheesy brats, beef barbecue, seafood gumbo and egg salad. Even if I started now and worked my way till midnight I couldn't make a dent in all that food.

What's a girl to do?

I better set the table.

One and One Make... ONE?

I've mentioned my older sister, haven't I? She's still trying to save me from myself even after all these years! We are the twain that might never have met were we not sisters.

Today she suggested that, if the two of us were combined, we could make one perfect person.

Frankly, I was pretty happy with myself 'as is' so I wondered - and asked - what about me she would switch and how an aspect of her personality (and vice-versa) would improve the whole. I'm dying to hear her answer but, till then, I'll simply speculate....

She's a Republican and I'm a Democrat bordering on Socialist. There, I absolutely do not see her way as an improvement. She wants all people to take care of themselves, sink or swim, and I want all people to have a fair chance at being able to stay afloat.

She's frugal and I am... not. lol Perhaps I could stand to profit, literally, if I had her Saving Gene. I could be with her on that, just for my own sake.

My sister-in-law once said that if I had a nickel and someone I loved needed a dime I would find a way to give them a dollar. She's spot on with that!! But is that in need of change? I don't think so. Amelioration, maybe, but that's as far as I could go!

I'm trusting and she is sceptical. About EVERYTHING. I would have long since had to off myself if I couldn't keep the sunshine in my outlook. Can't give that up or even dilute it; it's who I am!

I am spontaneous with affection and she is more measured. I'm aware that public displays of affection are offensive to some but I'm thinking that's THEIR problem and not mine. I believe the benefit of a hug or a kiss almost always outweighs What Others Might Think of its propriety.

Guilt. Oy!!! A useless emotion but one she's well-vested in and I've never been able to figure out why. Is that part of being a Capricorn, I wonder, because she has never done one evil or cruel thing to anyone in all the years I've known her. So, where does guilt enter the equation? I won't say I've never felt guilty because I have but since I chose my actions and let them lie I have to let them go. If I ever have the chance there are a few people I would apologize to for things done but I sure wouldn't want to adopt any guilt so, no, that's not something she could give me I would take.

She let her children fly from the nest more cleanly than I did and I can appreciate that but it's not my way nor is it my girls'.

She does have better common sense than I do and yet my wackiness has lead to lots (and lots and lots) of OH! So interesting!!! situations in my life; I wouldn't trade them for the safe and sane.

In terms of sisterhood, intelligence, humor, writing abilty, weight, and health (in eight years I could be where her health is now)we're about even so I don't see anything to exchange in those areas....

There you have it. It's just one girl's opinion of who we are. I can't WAIT to see how she sees us as being the better for sharing traits.

This could be interesting!

*Note:
All Toot wanted to change was for me to 1.) more often say, "No!" to things I wasn't hot to do anyway and 2.) be less wasteful especially in buying food that I know has a good chance of never being eaten. There was a slight nod given to my need for more frugality but it wasn't officially proffered so I'm innoring that.

As always, my imagination ran away with me!!! lol

I am Woman

Is there anyone anywhere who takes greater delight in the little things than I?

I can set my own alarm clock! How 'bout that??

AND I finally figured out how to set the radio stations I want on the car stereo.

Those seem like minor coups, I bet, to you but to me... it's like climbing Mt. Everest!

Each little thing I do for myself that had been Tom's job over the last ten years makes me proud, however out of proportion it might seem.

I can clean the vacuum dust bin, start the dishwasher, put Merlin in and take him out of the pool. I can use the broiler successfully and clean the lanai doorwalls without leaving streaks.

I can make the airport run!

I can do the laundry. And program the DVR. I can log on and off the laptop as well as the PC.

I can pay the bills, make appointments, and carry out the garbage for pick-up at the curb.

I can bring the car in for regular maintenance, do the marketing and decide on menus.

I can spend the day alone.

And the night.

Yeah... hooray for me.

Hearing Is Believing

I love the beach. Ours, here in Sarasota,Florida, is ranked #2 in the world so there's a lot to love about it.

One of my favorite things to do there is eavesdrop on other people's conversations! It's like being a peeping Tom but with your ears??

Voyerism... where would I be without it now?

It's just so much fun to hear bits and snippets of other people's lives. This one's making a deal with someone somewhere else, ear glued to his cell phone while his family focuses on the sand and the sun. That one moans about her boyfriend who - it's clear in my mind anyway - is just not that into her. Three old hens are cluck, cluck, clucking over the miseries of being seventy-something: nobody calls, nobody writes, and everything hurts.

It's not that what I hear is earth-shattering or life-changing it's that it ISN'T. Here we all are in this extraordinary space being absolutely ordinary!

Point? We are what we are. Each of us, whatever our circumstance, carry our baggage along even when we travel to paradise!!

The beach can't make a workaholic relax, can't heal a broken romance, can't make the old young. What it CAN do is share its beauty and link those of us there on a given day.

I'm in my neighbors' lives but for a moment but it's a moment I savor.

BFF

My best friend just gave me a call. She lives in Ohio and is a wonderful mixture of dizzy and delightful.

Sound like anyone you know??

We became friends the first year she taught and shared a room with me in St. Clair Shores, MI. I was pregnant with my first daughter, Amy, then and was always starving. We had the same planning period and I, too often, lured her away from grading papers and lesson planning to come out on School Newspaper Business (I was the sponsor!)which always segued into lunch at McDonald's.

I love when people are easily corrupted.

What I discovered over time is that I am not the ONLY person in the world who walks into walls, trips over dust, and laughs away mistakes.

Terry is the perfect person to be my friend.

We've weathered the births of five children (three,mine, and two, hers,), her divorce, the moves to Ohio for her and then Florida for me, Tom's death and a myriad other highs and lows along the way to here-and-now.

She was my choice for Tom's New Wife when I croaked but, cruelly, life took another path for us on that one.

They would have made a good couple!

I know she's easy to live with because she and I have done a good deal of tripping together over the years. She's actually better company on a vacation than Tom was because she likes to shop, is happy seeing new places and doing things never done before, and - like me - never gets pissy when lost. She knows, as I do too, that people are always 'out there' just waiting for the chance to help a couple of ditzy girls find their way back to the beaten path!!

Tom always took having to ask directions VERY personally!!?

Terry's and my biggest challenge in travelling together was and still is WARDROBE. It's a running joke that, when we each emerge from our sleeping quarters and meet up for the day's activities, we are in the same basic outfit or colors or even shoes. It's ridiculous!! More than several times we have arrived at the breakfast spot, taken one look at each other only to have one of us turn on her heel to go back from whence she came and change.

It's particularly odd that this still happens because we shop separately in two different states in two different climate regions and we are not even close to the same size!?

It's pure and simple evidence of our connection.

She's the one who introduced me to Sarasota in the first place; that has to have been thirty years ago. That was, if I remember correctly, the year her 4-year old son, Bobby, kept putting on his sister's clothes and trying to get out the door with us while wearing them!?

Not that there's anything wrong with that??? lol

That was just a phase but it sure made for some big laughs after the children were safely tucked in bed at night!

Laughing together is what we do best. We laugh at ourselves, at each other, at life's vagaries.

And laughter is the best medicine.

Francophone and Francophile

Eight months into widowhood I am again searching for something that'll put verve back in my life. This time I decided to look for international penpals.

Went on a few sites and tried to find one that didn't have "romance" as a goal, just simple chatter, maybe in two languages...?

I have found the greatest guy! He's a riddle wrapped in an enigma at this point because he has so many personas I'm not 100% certain I have, even yet, found the Real Man though we have chatted and exchanged URLs numerous times in the last week.

He came to me initially as Alex, then was James, then Jimi, and - finally - Jean-Pierre.

I know what you're thinking, "RUN! Do not walk to the nearest delete button!!"

But I am loving talking with him even if I am still a little confused about his place and time on this earth!?

His blogs are very cool. He does one that's basically social commentary and then one that's story-telling. Both are in French which is challenging for me since they use vocabulary and syntax beyond first-year level. I started reading the latest three-part story he has online and had to laugh at myself. The first time through it I was having so much fun just reading the words aloud that what I truly enjoyed most was hearing the sound of French language in my own voice.

I TOLD you all life was about me, right???

But now that I've read the story through again I can say that I like his writing very much. There's a duality about it that has captured my imagination and I think that's due to the African influence in conjunction with the written French I learned in school. French is always romantic but when you're throwing in Mo-Bwas and Ngbands, Abomambazis and Gbtalas it's all the moreso.

And he has been to this blog too. I REALLY laughed when he characterized my previous entry about the car radio installation as "extraordinary"!? How ambiguous can a one-word comment be? I wrote back and asked if that meant the entry was extraordinarily banal, trivial or boring???? lol

Haven't gotten the answer to that question but I await it with baited breath.

Sing Along With Me

A little over a year ago Tom and I bought a new car. It's a Hyundai Santa Fe and I've enjoyed it very much until about six weeks ago. That's when the radio/CD/navigation system in the console died.

Dead.

I immediately took it to the dealership and Tim told me they'd have to order the part which should arrive the Saturday after the Tuesday I was there.

Not so much....

When I didn't hear from them Saturday I went by on Monday to check and this time Bob said the radio was on back order and couldn't be there 'till September 15.

September 15!?? That would be a month from my original request. In a world where UPS and Fed Ex can have anything anywhere in the world - guaranteed - in three days, how did that make sense?

But I left the dealership and decided, like Scarlett, to 'think about that tomorrow'.

Went back again later that week and Tim stepped up one more time. I explained as how none of this was making sense to me when there's a Hyundai dealership in every good-sized town in the USA, there's a factory in Alabama (I know because Mike, the sales guy, had a sign on his office wall that said my Hyundai was American made-in-Alabama!)and there had to be a headquarters somewhere in Korea, right?

Somebody, somewhere, has got to have this console piece. And the aforementioned three days ought to be enough for that to be shipped to and arrive at Gettel Automotive in Sarasota.

"Tell me where that thinking is off the mark, Tim."

Tim checked the computer again and - what do you know - now the radio is "ready for release" from back order on September 15. I did a quick double take because, and I shared this thinking with Tim, I understood immediately "ready for release" was not at all the same thing as "being shipped" OR "waiting for me in Sarasota"!!

"Ready for release" meant that it would another 7-10 days AFTER September 15th before I had that radio in my car!?

I told Tim, "That is not acceptable." I went on to further make clear that the radio and singing along TO the radio was more than just a convenience for me; it was Important with a capital "I".

Tim never asked and I didn't say (because that would have involved tears and blubbering)but singing along to the radio in the car was something Tom and I did almost every day. With relish! It was actually number two in our list of Fun Things To Do Together....

Not being able to partake any longer of our Number One fun activity, I really relied on having that radio blast, singing along with it. Without it, the car - like Tom - was dead to me, don'tcha know???

Instead of bawling my way through THAT conversation, though, what I did tell Tim was, I needed to talk to the guy who could OK me having a loaner until my radio arrived.

You won't be surprised to learn that did not happen. It's been a long six weeks for me. But today it's back! And I'm hoping it won't be long before my heart is soaring again as I belt out those tunes at stoplights all over Sarasota. You'll know me, I'll be the one smiling as I sing every note.

Tabasco

My daughter Suzy lives here on Bounty with me, her longtime boyfriend(so long, in fact that he's far far away from being a whatchacallit "boy"!)Thom, and his Siberian husky Tabasco.

Tabasco is in his 15th year.

That is very old for a big dog of his type.

It's time to kiss him goodbye and send him off to doggie heaven but that is just so hard to contemplate let alone DO.

He's in constant pain, poor fella. He's lost control of more than one part of his body. And his whimpering would break your heart.

I know it does mine.

I will hate to see him go but will be so glad when he's gone on to his reward!

What do you think Doggie Heaven looks like?? I can't imagine - but I know it will have a spot ready and waiting for our good boy whenever we get up the guts to let him go.

I hope that's soon. This hurts us all too much.

The Gay Divorcee

This could be a little tricky, saying everything exactly right, but I'm going to give it a shot anyway because it's such a significant happening.

My daughter Amy is officially divorced! It happened very recently after eight long months of agonized wishing and waiting for it to be done. The process of divorce is not any fun, that's the simple truth, but Amy handled the challenges with great aplomb and I am proud of her for weathering the many storms that washed over her again and again.

Her story was not a new one; she married someone who looked great on paper but was not, in reality, the perfect fit she'd anticipated. He's a good man but is not and never was the right man for her.

She devoted 14 long years to trying every day in every way to Make It Right and then - when 40 came - she said, "Enough!" and set about making a new life for herself
and for their three children.

She and her ex - Bill - decided to live, as separated adults, in the same house with the children while the divorce was underway. There was some tension between them, yes, but they protected the children from their differences in so far as that was humanly possible. It was difficult in the doing but, in retrospect, I see it as having worked out well for the children and that is the bottom line.

They both agreed to joint custody and worked out a new-to-me arrangement of keeping the children in the house as they always have been with both Amy and Bill doing the coming and going having either 3 or 4 days each week with the kids.

So far so good!!

The kids have handled all this far better than I could ever have forseen. It pays to have two parents who each love them tremendously and want the best for them.

I hope and pray Amy has all the love she deserves in her life from now until forever.
If confidence counts, she will. Love IS the meaning of life (I read it in The Big Book Of Judy!)and finding a soulmate makes all of life not just bearable in its trials but brings joy to every moment.

That is my wish for her, for you, and for everyone everywhere.

Amen.

The Wednesday Girl

I was looking for something new to do - something that Tom and I had not shared so that I could take one more bold step into this future of mine. I found it at Sarasota Memorial Hospital.

I'm volunteering there on Wednesdays, taking the library cart around from room to room offering free magazines and books for patients and their families to enjoy while at SMH.

What's not to love about "free"???

There are over 1000 volunteers at Sarasota Memorial, isn't that amazing? It's a tribute to not just compassion and community service but also to retirement benefits that have, thus far, allowed all these kind-hearted people to just give away their time for hours and days and weeks and years at a stretch.

God Bless America!

If the State of Michigan screws with my benefits any more than they already have (and moreover threaten with regularity)I may find myself in a position of having to work for money again but - for now at least - I'm enjoying the opportunity to be a volunteer.

The uniform notwithstanding!!!?

It physically hurt me to buy and hang in my closet two pairs of white elastic-waist polyester pants; they are and always have been the trademark uniform of the elderly. Yikes!! I so did NOT want to go there.

But go I did.

In training I got to wear a sort of semi-cute royal blue pinafore apron over a simple white blouse but now, as a graduate volunteer, I have to wear this God-awful
tunic top in a hideous guaranteed-to-wash-out-ANYONE's-color blue. I'm still at the stage when I shudder dressing for my Wednesday date!

But it's like my father always said, "Keep your head up, Judith, and smile. THAT's what people notice, not what you're wearing."

I love being able to talk to real patients! I love being able to spread that smile my father righteously claimed a winner. I love being able to offer (free) something that has the capacity to divert even for a moment each anxious/scared/depressed/lonely person who could easily be you or me, your family member or mine.

I'm so glad to have found a niche where, even if briefly, it's in my power to bring a smile where there was none before.

It's absolutely more a blessing to me than it could ever be to anyone I serve.

And that's the truth (insert raspberry noise here!).

The Prodigal Returneth

Yup, I'm back.

My hiatus was unplanned for and inexplicable - just wrote one day and stopped the next. My apologies to those of you who've been looking for more and weren't getting any.

I know the feeling!! lol

Summer IS a lazy time in the tropics but it's not my excuse. Like everything else having to do with me I don't question the why so much as I simply accept it and move on.

Hope you're ready to move on along with me?? The Widow Judy does need her peeps!!

There are a few things to report from The Summer Sabbatical and those will be following quickly on the heels of this (re)opener.

TWJ lives!

Summer Daze

It's hard to believe another whole school year has gone by. I swear the days rush past at lightening speed.

And yet, somehow, I never change, cough, cough....

Nope. I'm still the madcap goofy girl I've always been. Still trying to learn it all, do it all, have it all and then give it all away!?

Italian is coming along very nicely (multo bene!). Instead of singing out loud to all my country music faves on the car CD player, now I'm following the cues on the language tapes so I can 1.) be polite in a third language, 2.) get around town, and
3.) cafe klatch with the best of them once in Roma.

My trip to Michigan (yes, the very place I vowed I would never go again only a couple short months ago when it tried so hard to kill me!) is overbooked and underfinanced but go I shall and, once there, will do it up brown. This is touted as a "Celebrate Olivia" tour but of course ALL the grandchildren will be celebrated in turn and together as a crew.

My crew. In my crib. Good Daughter Amy has worked up a schedule wherein each and every child will have at least one night at the motel with Grandma. That comes with attendant restaurant foods most loved by the kids and a shopping spree of course.

What's a Grandma without a flashing debit card, I ask you??

Olivia will get special treatment this time to celebrate her graduation to middle school. On Saturday we'll be skipping town with her two best friends and heading for an amusement/water park on the west coast of MI for two days of Big Fun.
I am not a rider of anything that goes fast, upside down, or twirls so the girls will do the rides with oversight only on my part. I'll park myself on a nice bench under a tree in proximity to a cotton candy stand and they'll check in at appointed times to share their tales have food/drink with me.

There's a lazy river in the waterpark section so the girls'll know where to find me floating placidly on what I hope will be a sunny day in Muskegon!!

Ergo, the school year will end with a bang for Miss Olivia. Everyone else will ease into the summer a little more subtly but with just as much enthusiasm.

Including the Widow Judy!

Roma redux

I started learning Italian in my car yesterday.

Usually I just sing as loudly as I want to the two country stations I listen to but now I'm improving my mind. Seriously. Experts say that doing crossword puzzles and learning a new language are two of the best ways possible to keep your brain sharp.

If that's true I should be a LOT sharper than I am??

I play Scrabble way too much of the day on Facebook... usually about 8 games simultaneously! I win a lot but not all the time because those upstart nieces won't let me rest on my laurels.

I mentioned that I'm thinking about travelling to Rome this fall and I got a message from a long-lost-recently-rediscovered cousin inviting me to travel with her, her husband, and a friend of theirs.

No, his name wasn't Stan!! lol

Their schedule isn't fixed because the friend has some health issues that need to be resolved first but it would be so cool to hook up with my cousin, whom I haven't seen in, let's say, thirty five years give or take.

And then my daughter Beckie told me she and her husband Dan will be in Rome themselves for an energy conference at the end of September so we could pal around if I were there then.

Also a very cool idea.

So... I'm learning Italian. After teaching French, another romance language, for almost forty years Italian's coming along pretty quickly. I just need the oral facility - won't be writing any treatises after all. The accent's interesting and I like it very much - not as much as French but that's OK.

Who's been to Rome at different times of the year? Is it better to be there in September and October or October and November? Can you do without a coat... just stick to sweaters in the fall? Anybody stayed somewhere they loved? What's the best area to live in while you're there?

I need some input so help me out. Let me know some specifics ASAP, please. I need to start solidifying some plans!

Ciao!!

Memorial Day

What a beautiful holiday this has been.

Memorial Day is all about remembering those who've served our country especially those who have died in service so you would think that might be sad. But, it fact, it's a rip-roarin' beach-lake-pool-picnic-barbecue-fireworks celebratin' sort of day and that's what we did.

All that stuff!

I started off meeting Carolyn, Dalecia, Dabria, Dominique and Quincy at the beach about 10:00. IT WASN'T EARLY ENOUGH, lol!! We literally drove up and down the parking lanes for better than 50 minutes (you would never have done that, I know!) and still there was no room at the inn.

So we drove across the street to the condo Carolyn's friend lives in but - alas - she was having people over herself and couldn't give us the go-ahead to use her parking spaces as we'd hoped she might.

All that running in place made up hungry so we stopped for brunch at Denny's. As soon as we got our drinks we toasted our service people, their sacrifices and those of their families - then we ate like pigs!

You would have hooted over our ancient waitness. She had to be in her late seventies. Guess we'll be seeing a lot more of that in this economy....

You have to know that, yes, I left her a hugh tip!

Having been denied access to the Gulf of Mexico we headed to Oscar Sherer State Park figuring we'd go to the little beach there. I pulled up to the ranger's station first and paid but as she was handing me change the officer said, "Oh, by the way, the beach is closed for high bacteria count."

"Oh, no! That's the only reason we were here - to go to the beach!!"

She gave me the entire refund, Quincy switched back to Carolyn's car (she was nice enough to bring him so I didn't have to drive all the way cross town to pick him up!) and we parted company.

I went back home and joined Suzy and Thom on the lanai. Suzy was wiping away big crocodile tears when I stepped out there. Stevie Wonder's "Sir Duke" was on XM and she was remembering the crazy 'exercises' that Tom used to do to that song and to so many others.

The softie!!

We spent the afternoon watching the Tigers play the Royals and whup 'em pretty good: 13-1! That, lazing in the pool and reading completed our holiday afternoon.

It's dinnertime now and Thom Strong is manning the grill. We're having all the staples: barbecued rib steaks, corn on the cob, salad, hot crusty rolls.

Later, there'll be watermelon, ice cream and sparklers.

All I can say is, "Wish you were here,

Tom."

Arrivaderci, Roma

I've going this afternoon for my second viewing of "Angels and Demons". Loved the book, loved the movie!

I'm not a Catholic so I don't mind the religious controversy in this Dan Brown book or that in his previous book-made-movie, The DaVinci Code; this is a very tight action thriller set in the place I would most like to spend some time right now: Rome.

I wonder how much time a novice would need to spend 'enough' time in that city!??

As a forever French teacher I know Paris should be the first European city I'd want to visit but - for whatever reason - it's Rome that draws me.

I always said that if Tom died first I'd sign up to join the nunnery (after I actually became Catholic, of course!)so maybe that's where my new-found interest in the Vatican and the city surrounding it comes from?

I long to be in the piazzas just glorying in the architecture and flavor of them.

I want to see all the churches and revel in their august beauty...

and the museums and the cafes and the pensionnes and the fountains and the cobblestones and the people and most of all the history.

Why now? Why Rome? Why don't I have a fortune large enough to support the adventure??

(LOL)

If Paris took a second seat because I've spent an adult lifetime seeing videos and reading books of ITS geography, history and culture the answer might be right there in front of my face.

I CAN afford to rent/buy videos of Rome!

That will be my compromise; I'll hit the library and the bookstores this afternoon and start amassing a personal library of Things To Do And See on my (never-to-actually-be-realized) dream trip!!

I do have an excellent imagination AND a knack for being happy with what I've got so that might well satisfy this new-found longing for travel and adventure in La Bella Roma.

I'm off to follow that Italian yellow brick road!

Arreviderci!

Just Daniel

God bless Daniel!

He's my 12-year old nephew who happens to be autistic.

There's a hugh spectrum of abilities for autistic kids and I haven't done enough research to know with authority where Daniel falls on that scale but I DO know that he's performing at a far higher level than I could ever have imagined possible when he was diagnosed at 4.

He has the best parents any special needs kid could have AND he's in a school district that values EVERY student. Those are not the only but they are two of the main reasons he has come so far.

His has been an amazing journey.

He's made some giant leaps in the last couple years. He and his younger brother are relating in ways that I was never sure would happen for them but - by gosh - they PLAY GAMES together, now, almost every single day.

Unheard of.

He took up an instrument, the baritone, and we could only look at it and wonder what the heck would happen. Two years later not only does he play it (and LOVES playing it!) but he's in the regular old-fashioned school band!?? ON THE STAGE, playing in harmony with others!! He sits silently when he needs to and jumps in with beautiful music when it's his time to shine.

Amazing.

Last summer he went to a special needs bike camp to learn to ride a two-wheeler and he DID. Prior to that his mother-who-loves-him would tool him around on a bicycle built for two so their family could bike ride together. Well... he'd gotten so tall and filled out so much that she was literally doing all the work for what essentially were two grown adults!? He sat in the back and waved to neighbors, smiled and sang to himself having a ball while she grunted and groaned pedalling for two up and down all the many hills in East Lansing!???

Now that's true love.

But even true love gets pooped so Shelly researched and found a group that had been successful teaching autistic kids to ride a two-wheeler. On faith, she signed Daniel up for their summer program. It involved 3+ hours a day in the car and that ranks VERY low on Daniel's list so she was never sure until The Day if it would be a "go" but it was. And he learned. And now he's ALMOST (fingers crossed!?) ready to go around the block (shh...) a-l-o-n-e.

I had to whisper it for fear of jinxing the prospect!!!

If he hadn't almost run an old guy down last week (!) it probably would have been a
fait accompli but... well... there's always that big but, y'know??

I'm so proud of him. And Shelly and Todd. And his brother Zachary. And his grandparents. And his classmates. And his teachers. And everyone who loves him because, as Zachary said in kindergarten when a kid asked him, "What's wrong with your brother?" he - without hesitation - answered, "Nothing,

"he's just Daniel."

Justice For All!!

I am a mess!

In the last three days I have done nothing but bump into things and, as a result, I'm covered in purple marks that pool blood under my skin.

Hideous!!!

There's enough indignity in just getting older without adding injury to insult.

Both hands, both arms and my left leg all pay moot tribute to klutziness and age.

Even when I think I'm being careful I'm really not, apparently.

I know there are meds people take that intensify this happening (I'm not taking any of those though so I have to think heredity plays a part in this phenomenon too.) but are there meds that can STOP it??

Wishful thinking, I'm sure.

Just as I wishfully think of having a waist again, or luxurious hair, or TOM here beside me!?

Or... a bucket of money! So I can go to Europe and hang for a couple months - ok - now I AM dreaming!!

C'est la vie. That's life and there you have it. You take the good with the bad.

On the positive side I'm relatively healthy, relatively sharp, relatively active, and loved a lot so on balance there's no question life Is good.

But damn these marks. I'm not Cain!!!! I'm just The Widow Judy trying to get along in the world.

Where's the justice?

CA Bound!

Did I mention Aunt Katie's in town? She's actually Tom's aunt and I can only claim her by marriage but Tom's family having been MY family for so long - what the heck - she's mine now too.

She was long-married to Uncle Donald who treated her like the princess she was probably meant to be. (I bet, when she was a child, she was "The Pretty One"!!)
I'm not actually certain what her age is but it's in the 80's somewhere and she is still a real looker. She has the most beautiful gray hair - the kind that's three-dimensional with the lightest shade an ash that's to die for. Ethereal, but not in an other-wordly sense, just highly-refined-and-delicate.

And bright?? I'd hate to get in a "fact-off" with her because I'm sure she'd show me up pretty substantially.

We'll avoid that, please!

She's making a HUGH life change and Sarasota is simply a pit stop on her way from MI to San Luis Obispo, CA.

Her second marriage was well-intentioned and supported by the family but (and you know there's always that BIG BUT!?) it didn't work out and, having divested, Katie has decided to move herself and her belongings across country. She will be spending some appreciable face time with her son and his still-young family.

Great idea!

NOTHING keeps a person lively like being with young people!! And if they're your very own grands AND they live in paradise-west AND your son married a veritable saint - well - it's all good.

There will be games galore to enjoy with the boys, all their school functions to participate in, their future loves to be seen. Her son Bill is a laugh riot and will keep her on her toes poking fun at her and at everyone else too, even himself.

She's going to a great family and while those of us on THIS side of the Mississippi will miss seeing her we will enjoy hearing about all her escapades.

Yup. I believe she still has "escapades" in her future.

She's a sassy, beautiful, intelligent lady with a lot of fun potential.

It gives me hope.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow...

It's summer in sunny Florida!

This is the fifth consecutive day that clouds have rolled in about 2:00 and brought afternoon rain.

I love that!

You get to see sunshine through the whole morning but the afternoons can bring almost any kind of thunderstorm you've ever experienced, from just a kiss of rain to violent incursions.

The general pattern sees the clouds and rain moving out by dinnertime which means the sun comes out again before sunset in paradise.

Did I mention summer lasts for five or six months?? Well... it does.

Today I was at Alta Vista picking up Quincy, my Little Brother, when the deluge started. We were soaked to the bone just sprinting from the covered walkway to my car 50 yards away!! My wig was so soaked I had to whip it off my head and shake it out in the front seat. This cracked Quincy up, of course; he's 9.

We went a mile down the road to get my Little Sister Dalecia from home after Tuttle elementary got out. She's also 9 but a grade ahead of Q. She had time to change her clothes and pat her cornrow braids dry, the lucky!

Q and I looked like drowned rats!!

It was still raining ferociously when we pulled out of her driveway. The roads - especially the intersections - were completely flooded. Cars were stalling going through water half-door deep.

We modified our playdate plan and went straight to dinner at Olive Garden. It was the better part of valor....

We had a lovely meal, laughed, had lots of conversation, many stories were told, plans were made for excursions over summer vacation - we even tried the new dessert: sugared doughnuts!

When we got outside you would never have even known it rained - well - unless you touched Q's or my shirt!? WE were still soggy but the roads were now dry, the clouds had disappeared and the sun was out.

Amazing phenomenon!

It was 6PM and all was right with paradise once more.

Until TOMORROW afternoon...?

Moving on...

Phew!

I made it to May 14!!

I was afraid I might fall down the rabbit hole or something on Tom's birthday but nothing happened. May 13th moved as all others do from minutes to hours to "Time's Up!" and on to the next day.

Slam, bam, thank you Ma'am.

It's a good lesson to remember - no matter how much you look forward to or dread a day it will always be that and nothing more: 24 hours with 60 minutes each. Period. Paragraph.

For myself, I moved through the hours relatively unencumbered with tears or sadness. I followed through on my promise to myself and I'm certain I did laugh more than I cried... although it probably would've been pretty close. By 8:00PM I figured I'd just put my head down on my pillow for a minute and three hours later I woke up!? Since 11:00 is my usual bedtime I decided, "What the heck?" rolled over and went right back to sleep.

That was probably cheating, calling it a day three hours earlier than usual, but I think it can be forgiven at least in Year One.

Thanks to all of you who thought of Tom and all of us who mourn.

It helped.

The Unbirthday

Today is Tom's unbirthday.

In the Big Book of Judy you don't get to add years after you're dead BUT the anniversary of your arrival on Earth can always be celebrated - ergo - the aforementioned "unbirthday" was born.

Both my 'away' daughters called from Michigan to say they and their children toasted Grampa this morning. Beckie and her boys clinked glasses of orange juice and chocolate milk; Amy and her three blew kisses toward heaven. I'm not sure if anyone sang the unbirthday song but I wouldn't be surprised if they had.

Me? I rolled over and went back to sleep because I was having a dream in which Tom was a major player. We were at a big family party/event and Tom was shucking a hugh box of corn on the cob. I offered to help but he was clearly having fun doing it himself while chatting with others so I left him to it and invited my sort of quasi-new boyfriend (whose name was NOT Stan but was, rather, Rob!?)to play cards which we did on top of a bed in immediate proximity to Tom. All of us seemed very happy and content.

(I can't explain these dream sequences... all I can do is report!?)

But I'm up now and have been for a couple hours. So far, so good. Sure, I puddled up over the clicking and kisses but I'm not bawling like a baby so I consider that a coup of sorts.

When I was so out-of-control weepy earlier this week I cancelled myself out of three engagements scheduled for today and tomorrow. It just made sense; giving myself some time and space to let this anniversary pass over-through-and-by me as it will seemed the better part of valor.

By Friday I'll be ready to re-join the world.

Hope it's ready for me??

The Polar Bear

My daughter Beckie and the boys gave Daddy Dan a puppy for his birthday a couple weeks ago. A "Coton de Tulear" which is to say, a French ball of white fluff!

Pictures do neither the pup nor the adoring family justice. If every CHILD born was greeted with such loving looks and tender touches the world would be a better place indeed.

The kids had a rescue dog, a beagle named Regal, before the children came. She was a pistol! And STINK??! Yoicks. No matter how often that dog was bathed she always had a stench about her that couldn't be ignored.

Tom and I would babysit the Regal Beagle whenever the kids went travelling - before the boys were born that happened quite a lot. It was always a challenge and while we loved the dog we were never enamoured of her untoward habits.

The only way the dog would eat involved me having to sit on the floor beside her dish and chat her up while she nibbled on kibble. Seriously.

And no matter how we shored up our fencing in the backyard on Bishop in Detroit that damn dog would dig and wiggle and wriggle till she found her way out. That would necessitate us going up one street and down another too many times to count until we'd spot her and lure her into the car with extravagent treats.

She thought she was a lap dog; that was her saving grace.

(Except for the heady odor which transferred to everything she laid upon!)

The new puppy won't be home in Berkley for another few weeks. I imagine he'll have a cute little house out-of-doors but mostly, for his own sake, he'll be inside and be walked as necessity dictates. Lord knows how that will work? There better be a schedule allowing equal access to Polar or many noses will be quickly out of joint!!

It's a hypo-allergenic breed so asthmatic relatives should be safe.

It says in fine print...!?

I wish them luck. A puppy's work is never done and neither is its owner's. With all that goes on at Beckie's I'd like to be a fly on the wall observing the manner in which everyone melds the dog to their schedule.

It ought to be a circus.

Luckily, the Radomskis all LOVE a good circus.

Try, Try, Again

Too too many tears today!

Being on the lanai still kills me. Tom would be disappointed with the big baby I'm being.

We had so much fun out there! My heart just bleeds without him being under the sun and the stars with me.

I see him in every space out there, so entirely happy with our life here: doing his goofy pool exercises to 50's and 60's tunes, playing Rummikub and keeping a weekly score to declare a "World Champion", lounging by the hot water outflow doing a "Pool Stand" when the water was really too cold for swimming, pushing me on the floaty so I could stay in the Lazy River, sunbathing, both of us singing old Rock-n-Roll songs aloud, grilling at least four times a week, cheering for the Tigers, watching MSNBC ad nauseum, feeding/naming/establishing a relationship with the 6-7 herons who came to the door every day for pieces of hot dogs, talking to the wild parrots who came to the bird feeder telling them to 'bring your friends', finding stars in the telescope at night, watching the hawks hunt, looking for the fox who ran though the yard many mornings, mocking the golfers on the 14th tee behind our house, chatting with our girls and grands on the portable phone, and always... loving me and being loved in return.

I miss him so.

Lucky as I am with all the love I have in my life, and I AM lucky, I long for his.

There'll be a point, I'm sure, when I will be out there without puddling up; I have no doubt of that. Life goes on. But right now, this minute, today, is not that day.

Luckily for me, there'll be another day to do better tomorrow.

And so I shall,

Try.

The Hairless Wonder

Let's talk about hair.

Or, rather, the LACK of hair because I don't have any!

It's true. Some medication I took for asthma caused my own never-any-good-anyway hair to thin to the point of showing scalp so I did the best thing I could and shaved it all off, period!

It was very freeing.

I wear wigs every day and have for at least 15 years.

Living in sunny Florida it's perfect! I can be in and out of the pool or the Gulf of Mexico as often as I like and not have to worry about having to do my hair multiple times a day.

It took me about 20 minutes to wash-dry-curl-fluff myself before I started wearing wigs and now it takes me, literally, four seconds to go from "no doo" to "all done"!!

Figure that's 20 minutes a day I've saved for 15 years. In total: 35,070 minutes/2,972 hours/ 123 days I've had to do something more (or less!) productive with my life since I became hairless.

Amazing.

Foolishly, I wasted way too much money buying real hair wigs when I first shaved my head. It didn't take long before I figured out that was silly. Whether the wigs are real or microfiber they all get old and have to be replaced about every 3-5 months.

I found cheap wigs from the Asian or African-American beauty supply stores did everything I needed them to do and did it for $25.00-$30.00 a pop!

It's challenging to find blond or frosted blond wigs at these establishments but it can be done; I'm living proof.

When I find a style and color I like I try to buy it in bulk. At about $23.00 per wig it's entirely do-able.

It drives my daughters batty that almost every day since wig-wearing became a way of life for me someone on the street, in a shop, or at the market compliments my hair and asks where I get it cut/done! It's a running joke with us. I try to just say, "Thank you," but almost always cop to the fact it's a wig and if they like it so much they can have it for themselves for $23.00 at Lee Hair and Nails!!

Sure, if I had a choice I'd like to have a full head of my own lustrous hair but that option's off the table. Wigs are an excellent second-best.

The trick is to find ones that require very little brushing - those are the ones that last and look good the longest. I simply shake mine vigorously then plop it on my head, use my fingers to arrange it and I'm good-to-go.

It works!

Try it, you'll like it.

To Work or Not To Work...?

Retirement began, for me, in late August of 2005. I never thought I'd be any good at it because I was always a person who got the most done when there was the most to do.

Without a schedule to be met I often did nothing or... as close to nothing as possible: watched TV, read, napped, shopped, vegged. That's been the story of my life in Sarasota.

It's taken me this long to begin wishing I had somewhere productive to go and do.

I'm thinking about a job. Maybe at a hospital where there's always a bustle of activity. Or a school. It should be somewhere I could put my own special talents to work: indomitable perkiness, positive thinking, an ability to rationalize even the most outrageous situations, organizing anything and anyone, never saying die.

BUT it must also be forgiving of my less-than-sterling traits: walking into walls, singing out loud, being figuratively and literally dizzy sometimes, having memory lapses, getting lost....

At 64 I might be able to find a paying job but I'm more likely to find something as a volunteer.

A hospital volunteer sounds do-able.

I'd make an excellent greeter because I'm friendly and make a good first impression (it's only after you get to know me you begin to understand how truly demented I've become!). Or a tutor for children stuck in the hospital but still capable of doing their schoolwork. A reader for those who can't read themselves? I could push the newspaper/candy cart around the halls and chat people up as I wander.

Twenty hours a week would be plenty for me to commit to, I think.

I wonder if Sarasota Memorial is ready for me??

Think I'll stop there today and check out the possibilities. Who knows? It could be win/win for SMH and for TWJ.

Let the games begin!

The Beck and Call Girl

Switched from Comcast to Verizon FIOS today and - oy - such a deal!

If I stayed up for three days (like I did when I got cable for the first time in the '80's) I still wouldn't have enough time to try all the channels I now have on my TV.

Correction: my SIX TV's!?

Yup. TV's very important in The Widow Judy's household.

Still, I'm sure poor Tom is not resting quietly at this moment knowing we didn't get the baseball package too and won't, therefore, be having the opportunity to see twelve different baseball games daily this season as we did when he was alive. If the Tigers stumble I still may have to sign up for it knowing Tom would want me to even if we never actually turn a game ON.

It's the principle, see?

The installer, Ryan, was here from 8:15 'till just about 12:00 hooking us up, literally. He was very professional and explained all the particulars but his explication fell on deaf ears; while he pushed button after button showing me all the tricks I tuned out knowing I would never remember a darn thing he said.

I have to do it myself if I'm going to learn the ins and outs. I know this is shocking but I plan to read the instructions.

Fancy THAT!

Apparently, if a channel is showing a movie there's a way to play it any time YOU'RE ready regardless of the scheduled showtime!? Sounds like the work of the devil, doesn't it?

If I'm reading correctly, I have 1951 channels not counting the On Demand options.

See what I mean about staying up ad nauseum???

I have figured out how to DVR the shows I want but, so far, I am in the dark how to interrupt the DVRing and start a show over from the beginning. I'm putting that on tomorrow's learning agenda.

For tonight, I'm happy to click and flip and just generally revel in the glory that is having 2000+ channels at my beck and call.

Decadence, thy name is Verizon FIOS!

Pipe Dreams

Anybody want to go on a cruise?

My passport arrived two days ago - I've never had one before - and I thought, "Well, I'll just go on a little cruise, I will."

Called the travel agency and, without a roomate it's twice as expensive!

Who knew??

There's always a catch, isn't there.... Before, I had a partner and no passport; now, I have a passport and no partner?!

Where's the fairness in THAT!??

A cruise has always been an 'out there' dream and I'm not sure why. Truth is, I'm terrible on boats and generally end up puking in my hat! Vomiting takes away a lot of the supposed "fun" as you can well imagine.

My dad had a nice boat when he retired in Bel Air Bluffs. He would bluster even way back then about how expensive it was to spend the day on the water. Or OFF the water - there always seemed to be SOMETHING that required another bucket of money to keep the boat happy?? That's why, on Judy's Big Wish List, owning a boat has always been dead last.

I'd really like to go to Europe. FLY to Europe, that is. Unfortunately, I don't have any friends living in Paris or Rome and I'm too old to hostel it so that's probably a pipe dream too. TWJ is on a budget, after all.

Guess I'll compromise and go to the beach on Siesta Key. It IS the reason so many people visit me here in Sarasota!! They'll deny that, naturally, but when I lived on the east side of Detroit did I have a lot of company?? No, I did not....

It's fun to dream about going to new places. Think I'll take a little nap right now
and see where I wind up.

Dreaming is free, right?

The Shark

Today I did something I haven't done since I was a teenager. I washed the kitchen floor.

LOL. Not a very exciting beginning for the blog, is it? Sorry 'bout that!?

Tom asked for that duty when we were first married and who was I to deny him that particular pleasure!??

Since he died, the floor has only been entirely washed one time and my brother-in-law magnanimously did that for us while we were in Michigan farewelling Tom.

That brings me back to today.

It was a bi@#*!! I'm too old to be sitting on my butt scrubbing one tile after another. And you KNOW what'll happen - they'll just get dirty again??

Plus, being as obsessive-compulsive as I am, I couldn't just scrub the tiles I also felt the need, being at that level, to wash all the lower cabinets AND rearrange the interiors of those that have gotten out of control.

I wasn't having ANY fun but I, of course, couldn't stop once I'd begun... that would be heresy! The Widow Judy does not comprehend anything other than a job well done?! I'm a 100 per-center in all things.

I got about 2/3 of the way through the kitchen and that commercial for The Shark came into my head. I need that!! I have tile in the kitchen, the foyer, the laundry room, and two bathrooms - I'm the person The Shark was meant for!!!

So I headed to Bed Bath and Beyond just as soon as I finished and got dressed for the day.

$99.00. Seemed like a bargain if only to save my knees and hips!

Science is wonderful. The Shark is mine all mine!! You'll be able to eat off my floors from now on.

But please don't....

The Odd Woman

Suzy and I were in downtown Sarasota at Two Senoritas waiting for a table this afternoon; a large group was in front of us.

"7," they told the hostess and I started counting: 3 men and 4 women. There was an odd woman in the party.

It was like a slap in the face to me. Now I, The Widow Judy, will be also known as The Odd Woman??

Yikes. I hadn't thought that far ahead until this afternoon. Never having ever in my life been a single... this is very strange.

Anybody (and I mean ANYbody) who's ever known me is laughing out loud right now at the irony. The truth is, everywhere and anywhere I've ever gone with anyone I've ever known I have always always always BEEN the "odd woman"!!

No one is odder than I.

I do things and say things that, to me, seem entirely normal, sane and obvious but which, to others, are notable - and not always in a good way!?

I sing out loud all the time. To me it seems perfectly within the bounds of propriety but, often, others seem to respond with less than great enthusiasm for my singing and/or my songs. I don't have a great voice - I'm saving that for my next incarnation - but I love to sing. And so I do.

And, yes, sometimes I make up my own silly songs which was a little cuter when my children were preschoolers and they would sing along but the cute factor has undeniably waned as I've gotten older. That hasn't stopped me though.

I can't seem to help it. I see a word or a situation and I start rhyming then the rhyme becomes a poem and finally I put it to music in my head. Voila: a song is born!

Doesn't everybody do that??

Also, I smile. I smile at people I know and people I don't. I'm an indiscriminate smiler.

And a hello-er. I smile and say hello to people all the time. Why wouldn't I?? I'm in a space, we're sharing that space for a finite amount of time, why wouldn't I want people to feel welcome being where they are?

My father always said, "Keep smiling. It makes people wonder what you're up to!" He probably stole that from someone else but I took it to heart and made it a way of life.

I strike up ad hoc conversations with children, old people, all people. My sister-in-law is mortified by this and I have never been able to fathom why it's such an embarrassment for her. Poor dear, her mother did exactly the same thing her whole life long and when the three of us would be out together - well - let's just say that Sharon would die a little every time.

My clothes and hair draw attention almost daily. People literally stop me on the street all the time to ask where I get my hair done or to say my blouse (or shoes or top or bottom)look nice and where did I get them. They are, believe me, nothing special but still, somehow, they merit attention and that strikes me as odd every time.

I shop at Macy's and J.C. Penney and Walmart. I'd shop at Target but they just don't have things that fit me. Can you get any more mundane than those three aforementioned stores?

I don't think so.

"The Odd Woman". It's like I've come full circle with Tom's death. I am now literally as well as figuratively "odd".

In one sense, I wouldn't have it any other way; in another... well... that could be more problematic. I can't imagine being single so it's hard to prophecy how that will play out over time.

Stan? Are you out there??

Making Lemonade

My nephew Lee is quite a guy. His maternal grandmother, my sister Toot, has thought of him as extra special since the day he was born. I know this because she calls him "the messiah" and always has.

It's lower case so... no blasphemy intended.

Kind of like, "our father who art in heaven" referencing our own dad? She coined that phrase too.

Lee is the only kid I know who takes a "no" answer and still runs with it!?

Such was the case when he got to UMaine's Orono campus four years ago. He played baseball in high school very successfully so he tried out for UMaine's team at college.

Didn't make it.

Most kids would just slink away with their tails between their legs but not Lee. He showed up at the coach's office early the following morning asking what he needed to work on so he'd have a better shot the next year. Coach told him to "hit the weight room" but saw something special in a kid who didn't resent being cut AND who obviously loved the sport. He was offered the job of Team Manager.

He took it.

And he ran with it.

He did everything asked of him and lots LOTS more.

Coach noticed.

When Lee tried out in his sophomore year he was cut again!? This time he was named a student assistant coach. That meant he got to travel with the team!! True to form, Lee made a name for himself working hard with and for the kids AND the other coaches as well.

Now Lee's the first base coach so he's authentically involved in every game. His plan is to stay at Orono when he graduates next winter going straight on to graduate school and continuing to work with the baseball team.

His eventual plan is to become a professional college or major league baseball coach; from the praise heaped on him from the staff he's working with at UMaine, that seems very do-able.

He was thrown a curve not making the team as a player but he persevered. I call that Making Lemonade!

May Day

May first was one of my favorite holidays growing up in Hopkinton, MA.

We'd make "baskets" out of Dixie cups, decorate the hell out of them with drawings, construction paper, lace doilies, even fabric and then create a handle from pipe stems, ribbons or lace.

Candy, flowers we'd pick from our own spring gardens, and a funny or rhyming unsigned note about the recipient would be the piece de resistance. We'd stealthily approach the porches of our friends, ring the doorbell and then disappear before the door opened. There we'd be, giggling madly behind a bush, a car, a tree trunk as our friends discovered their treasure.

UNsigned!! Figuring out who gifted you with these little bits of heaven was a major part of the excitement.

The making and the doing was so much fun that, often, I'd empty the baskets I got and fill my newly-made ones with treats I'd received from someone else so I could give out more and more of them!

More than Easter, May Day truly signalled spring had sprung.

In Massachusetts, Easter weather was generally still pretty blustery whereas, by May first, it was assured that jonquils, tulips, lilacs would definitely be blooming.

I loved the baskets best of all. I'd line them up on my bedroom windowsill and use them to hold stuff until they got too ratty.

There's never been a May Day that I haven't remembered all my friends and me surprising one another with these home-made tokens of affection.

I'm feeling the love so well, in fact, that I think I might just get out my art and craft supplies to transform the cups in my pantry and drop them off on my friends' doorsteps here in Florida today!! What a fun idea.

Let's ALL do it!? We can start a tradition and spread the love wherever we are.

I double dog dare ya'!!!

The Birthday Boy

What a rotten sister I am.

Today is my brother's 71st birthday and I completely forgot to call him and sing the birthday song. Bummer.

Not only that but the card I sent probably won't get there until tomorrow which is, clearly, NOT his birthday so I blew that too.

I had every intention of calling when Suzy and Thom got home from work so we could all sing together; I must have thought of it six times during the day but then it was gone from my head when it should have been foremost at 5:30.

My thinking was, I'd call when we could sing as a group because I'd stand a much better chance of not crying through the song that way. In all previous years it's
always been Tom and me together happy birthday-ing to him and I was afraid my voice, alone, would be too hard for both me AND Bud to bear.

I'd blame Tom's death for muddling me but that's not really fair. Truth is, my mind was a sieve long before that happened.

Bud deserves better.

I hope to God my sister Toot remembered and DID call. I'd give it a 50-50 chance of having happened because, frankly, she's just about as demented as I am myself!

At 71 he is definitely the best-looking sibling. He seems to be getting younger while I just get older and more feeble!? What's up with that???

Men wear so much better than we women. Why IS that, I wonder....

He's a rock, the brother. There have been a fair share of ups and downs in his life but in the main he's weathered all storms with aplomb. I appreciate his steadiness and calm.

It probably true that I'm more upset about forgetting to call than he would ever feel at being temporarily forgotten.

He's got a great immediate family surrounding him with love. Sure hope they picked up my slack today!!

Its a dirty job but somebody's got to do it.

Worlds Collide!

I saw my internist yesterday and, again, he disappointed me; I think I'll be doctor-shopping.

I don't know if he's painfully shy, has Asperger's Syndrome, or is just a dick. He will NOT look me in the eye. Whatever news he delivers, good or bad, his head is buried in my folder.

He's Italian. From Italy. At first I thought maybe he was not so much aloof as that he might be having to translate in his head from one language to another; that CAN slow communication to a crawl and make the speaker nervous.

It could also explain why he never - ever - laughed at my jokes?? Once, he did smile and I thought we'd made a breakthrough but that was more than two years ago; since then? Nada.

He DID, however, carry on conversations with Tom. Him he could eyeball. Any time Tom and I were in a room together with him all communication was directed mano-a-mano; it was all very Old World.

I am a New World girl.

Good news or bad, I like a doctor who at least acknowledges my presence.

And he never mentioned Tom's death!? Now this guy has been our internist for almost four years. I see him either every six months or every three, sometimes more depending on health issues; Tom he saw once a year for a regular checkup and intermittently for minor problems that cropped up. He also was the doctor of record for Tom's mother while she was with us including the eight months he treated her, with us present every time, after she broke her hip and then failed to thrive.

And he signed Tom's death certificate three months ago.

Wouldn't you think simple courtesy at least warrants, "I'm very sorry about your loss"?????

I guess that's my bottom line. I could accept the humorlessness, the averted eyes, the dull and slow monotone delivery but the straw that breaks my camel's back is not acknowledging a loss so entirely stupefying it HAD to stand out in his mind.

And still he couldn't bring himself to look me in the face and say, "I'm sorry." That's just wrong.

It's gonna cost him. I'm taking my marbles and walking away.

I'm not mad.

I'm not mad.

Like hell I'm not.

Man on Bike

I've given up the search for a new coffeetable and end table for the living room; I've decided to keep the ones I have and paint them myself!

Why it took me this long to realize that was the answer to my dilemma I cannot fathom.

They're going to be wild and crazy!!

I'm going to paint them in the style I doodle. I let my pen find its own direction and draw freeform lines that intersect. When the basic shape is complete then I start shading, adding detail within the closed spaces until the whole space is filled with form and color.

What almost always happens is that, somehow, the freeform drawing suggests something "real" and that becomes the focus for the details.

Now that I've decided I can hardly wait to start!

I'll paint each table an antique shabby chic color that blends with the furniture and when that's dry I'll do each drawing in pencil on the tabletops. I think I want the whole entire flat space filled in with coordinating colors of acrylic paint; the legs and dowels I'll leave the basic color but will accent with repeated designs and colors I like from the tabletops.

This could take awhile....

But I think it will be so worth it!!

They'll each be totally unique. I'd call them art but that is in the eye of the beholder so let's not jump the gun.

When finished and covered with varnish I'll get glass tabletops for them. After all that effort I would hate to have them inadvertently ruined by ANOTHER artist's Crayola markers as they fill in color book pages on some rainy future day!??

This is going to be fun.

If only I had listened to the FO and Amy AND Beckie and could take pictures of the process then post them on the blog!???? That would be kind of cool. But it's not going to happen. The Widow Judy's technical skills are still sadly behind the times.

You can lead a horse to cut and paste but you can't make it commit the process to memory.

That's how you know you're 64!

The No-Alibi-Needed Cafe

I feel like Seinfeld giving good-intentioned but still possibly ruinous advice to the Pakistani.

Or not??

A new restaurant opened up in my neighborhood and I went in there for the first time today. It's called the "Alibi Cafe" so I assumed it was going to be another purposely just-short-of-seedy middle-aged bar/restaurant with the emphasis on bar.

I was HOPING it might be a good place to have a meal on the cheap once a week now that I'm a widow and have ceased planning for and preparing meals at home on a regular basis.

I was wrong on both counts.

It was a marvelous and stunning surprise!! The glass front was dark and made seeing into it before entering impossible; I was entirely perplexed when, stepping into the interior, I saw what I perceived to be a very classy high-end European cafe!!

There were four-count-'em-four high tables with four chairs at each and two lovely seating arrangements featuring sofas, extra wide club chairs and large coffee tables.
I believe there might have been three stools at the bar.

I didn't get it.

Who opens a restaurant from 9-9 with seating for 16, basically??

Then I got the menu and was even more confused. It had a few sandwiches, three kinds of flat bread pizzas, a few salads, a few desserts, lots of teas, coffee variations, beer and wine.

AHA! The light finally dawned. It's not about the Alibi... It's a true CAFE!! They don't want people to come there for a big meal, they want customers who'll come, sit, drink, talk, read, nosh and generally pass time as if they were on the Champs Elysee or the Via Venito.

I was entirely charmed.

But they're not on a chi chi cosmopolitan boulevard they're on Sawyer/Tuttle across from a nursing home in Sarasota, Florida.

What's wrong with this picture?

Suddenly, I was consumed with desire to see this establishment prosper. I don't know why... I have zero vested interest; it simply appealed to me through to my soul.

The owner is Bulgarian and the manager is too. I fear that after taking almost two years to finally open they have unfortunately misunderstood their American clientele and have no concept how to "sell themselves" to the community.

Now why I think I would have any better idea how to do that, I can't tell you. All I can say is, there's no other place of its kind in all of Sarasota and I didn't know until I walked in there today that it's EXACTLY the kind of place we desperately need.

It's unique in both concept and execution but their sign and their exterior does nothing to indicate the possibilities that lie behind those dark glass walls.

We are a city of artists, performers, educated seekers of knowledge and curmudgeons. We're political and religious. Life AND death are primary issues for most of us. We are opinionated and vocal. We care about our community. We all have a voice and want to be heard.

This venue provides the perfect environment; the question is, "How do you get people in the doors?"

It's crazy that my head is filled with ideas to Make That Happen. These people haven't asked me to nose into their business?? I'm not a restauranteur!? There's no reason in the world I should be butting in except that I can see myself and others slamming poetry there, discussing books, talking politics, religion, red tide, 2012, life and death....

Is it absurd that I've made a list of suggestions to give them, however unsolicited??
I'm pretty sure it IS but for whatever reason I need to do it or I'll never be able to forgive myself for not trying to encourage their success.

Do you think it's possible The Widow Judy may just have too much time on her hands?

I'll Have Nothing and Like It

My sister Toot mentioned today she found a coin in her 'jool' box, one my grandmother gave her a gazillion years ago. It' s a British coin with a crown on it so she's assuming that's what it is - a crown. The word "sterling" is stamped on it too so I'm thinking she's probably correct.

One British crown, sterling.

That's it.

From generations upon generations of Davidges that's what we got, one crown in the possession of - not me - but my sister?!

"Inheritance" is our equivalent of the F-word.

My father was, by all standards, a fairly wealthy man. He worked hard, always, and earned every penny he had. After my mother died he met and married The Terror, Mary.
She was a greedy, selfish, social climbing bi..., uh, woman but she gave good h..., uh, lovin' where Dad was concerned and that was apparently enough for him to forgive her anything.

When Dad died we all got a copy of his will which left everything to Mary; upon her demise, whatever remained of his estate was to be divided amongst his childen and Mary's two nieces.

Never happened.

I hear all the time about people who - pardon my French - inherit all kinds of great stuff but me and mine? Nuttin', Honey.

It would be SO GREAT to have an unbeknownst aunt, uncle, cousin looking for a Davidge to bestow largesse unto???! I would very much like to be rich, rich, rich. Then I could truly become the Lady Bountiful I was meant to be!

Doesn't look like that's going to be my lot in this life. Good thing I was lucky in love!!?

If I had to pick one or the other the choice would be hard (oh, very YES!) but love WOULD win out.

Good thing, huh?

I've always wondered why the Lord didn't make me rich. He has to know that, had I money, what I'd do is give it all away?! That's what I do (and have always done) even with the little bits of dough I've ever had!!!!

Think what I could do with a fortune.... Davidges everywhere would be cruising, getting advanced degrees, taking their children on holiday, learning to paint and act and sing, sitting in box seats at sporting events, supporting the needy in their various towns and villages.

You always hear people saying it's a mixed blessing to have money. I spit on this concept. Given the chance I would single-handedly disprove that fallacy, trust me.

Anybody want to take me up on that??

Ms Who Said WHAT?

Teacher conferences are always so interesting.

The first one I went to for my eldest, Amy, boggled my mind. She was a child so aggressive that boys who were 12 and older on Payton in Detroit crossed the street so she couldn't bulldoze them with hugs. At two, she'd run up to them so hard, head down, and throw her little arms around their legs that she literally bowled them over!

In kindergarten, Ms Green said, "She's starting to come out of her shell a little bit."

WHAT??

Beckie was a preemie and took a year to catch up to all the guidelines that let parents know their child is "normal". She didn't sit up alone until she was over six months old, didn't crawl 'till her eleventh month... I was concerned she might have 'suffered' being premature. But then she walked on her first birthday and that gave me hope. The hammer fell not long after that though when she had a seizure - and then another - so she was put on medication that slowed her down and made her sleepy for four long years.

HER kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Hasse, had her tested for the gifted program!?

Suzy, my third child (in 26 months!), locked horns early-on with her sister Amy for dominance. She somehow had the idea that, third or not, SHE was in charge of everyone?? Plus, she had a wicked satirical sense of humor that cut through all the crap; I like to credit her father with that 'inheritance'.

I took her to the district's preschool introduction and testing program where she proceeded to devastate the Romper Room specialist with withering stares (she didn't like her sing-songy voice) and polite refusals to participate in the activities all the other children were pursuing. At one point we parents were invited to join the group whereupon I willed her with my body language to JOIN ME and SHAPE UP. I thought we were on track but then the teacher laid down kid-sized sheets of butcher paper and suggested we parents trace around our child. Suzy looked directly into the woman's eyes and said, "Maybe my MOTHER'd like to lay down and I'll trace HER."

If looks could kill she would've been dead at 4.

Ms Peloni, HER teacher, suggested she was 'a little needy' and always in search of approval. SUSAN??

Beckie called this morning with the report on her two boys, Gret and Reece. Gret's in second grade and is every teacher's dream; he's smart and diligent and creative and charming and pleasant, helpful and kind to others. This was not a surprise.

But Beckie had the same feeling I did so often in talking to teachers, "Are you sure we're talking about REECE? Reece Radomski," she asked, flabbergasted, when the teacher described a boy Beckie barely recognized. A perfect boy. A boy who always behaved. A boy who never rebelled. A boy who never threw a fit or raised his voice. A boy who never stomped his feet. A boy the teacher would have loved to take home and call her own.

I remember my own mother once saying how she loved going to teacher conferences because otherwise she would never have believed she'd done ANYTHING right as a parent!!

That makes us three generations of the confused and dazed.

God Bless America!

The FO and I

The First and Only nephew I got to personally help raise is here visiting me in Sarasota. He's a blustery guy, generally quiet but given to devastating one-liners guaranteed to either make you wither or laugh out loud!!

I was a little concerned that my having to take off without him to get allergy shots or play bridge or have blood drawn might make him feel a little put-out but, nope, he's the sort that appreciates a little 'alone time' like his Aunt who loves him!!

Today I got him to go to the BEACH. This is not an opportunity he welcomed, you understand. I floated a couple of trial balloons about it earlier this week and got nowhere so I finally just announced, "Thursday is beach day," and got no argument so we went.

I had my fabulous "bring your own shade" chair and he had my Michigan State green number with a spot to put his cup-o-beer so we were both content in that.

None of my better angels made space for me to park in my regular area so we wound up a little farther down the beach than I generally go. I'm happy to report, however, that the beach is perfection there just as it is on a straight line down to the water from the steps of the concession stand!!

Spring break is done, apparently, because everyone beaching today looked like they belonged there so we saw a whole lot of senior citizens in various shapes and sizes.

Again, Stan did not materialize....

Bill brought a teeny little cooler with a couple beers in it and I brought my floaty noodle so all was right with the world.

The water was gorgeous: clear, clean, salty-to-taste, with rolling waves just right for chicken me. I was in about ten minutes when - lo and behold - Bill joined me!? Yahoo.

He said there was, "...just the amount of seaweed I can tolerate. Zero." lol. I couldn't agree more. I love salt water but the Atlantic has too much 'stuff' floating in it for my taste. I'm definitely a Gulf-side girl.

And when a handsome young man went past us holding his lovely lady in his arms Bill asked, "What kind of bait did you use to catch HER??"

We stayed better than two hours which I consider a coup of sorts.

I think the FO surprised himself, enjoying the experience as much as he did. I KNOW I was happy to share it with him!

Bridge as Panacea

I played bridge this afternoon with three ladies from the Newcomers Club of Sarasota.

Although... none of us were really 'new'?? I think I've lived here the longest at almost four years but the other ladies had all been here three years themselves, at least.

I liked them! Yes, I can just say it with no equivocation. They were all within five-ish years of my own age, they were funny, they liked to laugh, they knew the Rules of Bridge better than I but they were happy to share and I learned a couple useful things over the three hours we were together.

They scored the games in a way I was totally unfamiliar with - Chicago style - but I don't care about the scores anyway so I was fine with that.

They are all retired and still have their husbands available in a worldly way as opposed to me; they were shocked to learn that Tom died just a few months ago and were sympathetic without being maudlin. I appreciate that.

We had fun playing together and I would definitely do it again. Anne got out her scheduling book and looked ahead to the next date: May 13. My eyes got misty and I said, "That would have been Tom's 66th birthday... but... yes, I can play that day."

Why not? It will keep me out of trouble.

Like baseball, there's no crying in bridge! That's three hours accounted for on May 13th.

Got any suggestions for the other twenty one?

Mad Judy

Prepare yourselves. I'm venting today.

I am so furious that if blood really could boil it would be spewing from the top of my head!

Yesterday and today BOTH I have inadvertently knocked my wrist against an immovable object. Result? Hideously ugly purple bruises on the left and the right.

My clumsiness has never been pretty... although there were times when I was younger I chose to think of it as part of my charm. However, those days are long gone. These under-the-skin fuscia marks just SCREAM: OLD! INEPT! SICKLY! and my personal favorite, STOOPID!

I hate, hate, hate them.

No matter how hard I try to Think First before I do anything physical I can't seem to avoid whacking myself way too often.

The only thing that ever made them better was - when Tom would see them - he would kiss them. Not much chance of that happening again in THIS lifetime, damn it.

So here I sit pathetically bawling for a dead husband to kiss my boo boos.

That ain't right.

The saving grace is that ten days from now they will have disappeared and I can move on. Wish that I believed ten days hence is all I need to stop missing Tom....

Geocaching

The following are words I never thought would pass my lips, "I went hiking today at Oscar Scherer State Park."

Seriously.

My little sister (Big Brothers Big Sisters) Dalecia and I signed up to do some activities with the local Girl Scouts and this was one: "geocaching". Unfortunately neither of us actually knew what geocaching was when we signed on or we probably would have begged off right away but instead we showed up to see what it was all about and it was all about hiking through the freakin' woods!??

Dalecia is a city girl like me. She's a far better athlete than I could ever dream of being but, still, she prefers not to get dirty and I'm with her 100% on that.

She's a girly-girl.

Something told me... a little voice whispering in my ear... to wear pants, long sleeves, and sneakers with socks just because whatever this turned out to be, it was happening at a state park; that means woods and woods mean bugs. Neither of us is a fan of the insect kingdom!

I figured "geocaching" was a misprint. Thought they might've left out a "t" and we were going to be caTching something (maybe butterflies?) there at the park. WRONG.
The 'caching' was from the French: cacher - to hide. Come to find out this is a hugh worldwide thing where people take trinkets, put them in a waterproof container along with a log book and pencil then hide the container somewhere. In this case, at Oscar Scherer State Park!

There were six girls and as many adults searching the park for trinkets today. The girls all got a GPS-on-a-rope and there was list of cleverly named sites we could seek. The sites were linked to the GPS so once we clicked on the name we wanted, finding it was a fairly simple process since the GPS unit knew where it was.

Except for the hiking. Aye. There's the rub!!

Pooh (aka Dalecia)and I decided we'd seen enough, hiked enough, and swapped enough trinkets after three containers had been sought and found. Thank God Melissa, the GS leader, brought us back to the starting point then for lunch! We thanked her and all the other participants for a fun event but explained we had to go - and left!!

The remaining geocachers had another three or four sites they planned to find after lunch. Pooh and I believe that is overkill.

Instead, we went to Denny's for a nice lunch in air-conditioned splendor, shopped for new bathing suits at Beall's (Pooh found two excellent ones!), stopped at my house for a little computer time and Dove bars then I dropped her back off at home.

Our outing probably took as long as the diehards at the park but we were a lot happier having stopped the madness and reverting to type!?

"Geocaching", who knew???

The Live-It Begins

I'm re-thinking my diet.

As of today it mostly consists of Lays potato chips, Coca Cola, butter, iced tea, red meat, and candy. It's been this way since Tom died and it's about time I stopped comfort-fooding my OWN self to death.

Meat is a must. I especially like meat on a bone: lamb chops, pork chops, Porterhouse steaks, rib eyes.... All of the aforementioned have a certain amount of fat naturally included in the cut and that I love too. However, I can do without the fat and will trim the meat I'm eating from here on out.

I get mean if I don't eat meat every day.

So meat stays but I'll try to make it leaner than it has been lately.

I'm addicted to regular Coca Cola. I hate admitting that but it's true. I'm afraid I do have an addictive personality; I'm not proud of that. Anything I like I do to death! The difference between me and my mother is that my addictions don't make me a sloppy drunk they just make me chubby! But the truth is that, if I started to like drinking, it would take me no time at all to be an alcoholic; I have religiously avoided that happening thus far and my plan is to continue on that track.

My daily intake of Coke is probably right around 48 ounces daily. That's absurd. I can do better, I think. Starting tomorrow (always the best day to start anything??)I'll allow myself 24 ounces and see if I can stick to that. Two cans a day? That seems fair. And do-able.

I can have all the plain iced tea I want. And ice water - I do like that, I just never think to drink it. That's what I'll order when I'm in a restaurant. I'll save the Coca Cola just for when I'm home.

That'll work.

The easiest thing to cut out is candy and desserts. Those are gone, no problem.

I'm thinking maybe three months of watching what I eat and counting calories should let me lose at least twenty pounds. I weigh about 175 now so by mid-Julyish I should be close to 155. That would be good. It's a reasonable goal.

Anybody want to join me in TWJ Diet? We could buoy each other up! You can pick your own number of calories, it doesn't have to be the same as mine, and you can eat whatever floats YOUR boat. Let me know if you want in on the fun from now till July 18. There's no prize or anything - we'll just see if we look and feel better three months from today. If we do then that'll make us ALL winners!

I find it's very helpful if, while you're counting calories, you chronicle whatever you're eating that day. It's amazing how many 'forgotten' calories slip by your lips if you don't. And EVERYTHING has to be counted!! No fudging.

Butter has to stay but I could use it more sparingly; that'll be my goal.

Potato chips are my downfall. I love regular Lays and Wavy Lays. I do know how many make 100 calories so I'll try to limit my intake to no more than that amount in a day.

Speaking of calories, I have to decide how many I shall consume. 800 is too few, 1500is too many so... I'll settle on 1000-1100. If you go over your chosen number, recognize that fact but don't beat yourself up over it; just start again to reach the proscribed number the next day.

What I generally do when I diet is eat whatever I want but make the portions as small as I need to stay within the daily calorie count. I really love counting calories because I think of them as 'money' and 'spend' them as I will till I've reached my limit.

I suppose I should make some sort of disclaimer stating that TWJ Diet is not sanctioned by any doctor and everyone who wants to play along is totally responsible for themselves and the choices they make. Be reasonable!! Pick a number of calories that allows you some flexibility and is lower than the number you're stuffing your face with today. Try to hit all the food groups daily. Take a vitamin too just so all your bases are covered.

Let me know if you're "in". And good luck to all of us.

The Bling Thing

My daughter Amy is having dinner tonight with another mom from her kids' elementary school. That wouldn't ordinarily be earth-shattering news but this particular lady happens to be a ghost whisperer.

I think that would be such a cool talent to possess.

Sure, there are probably as many down sides to it as up but, in toto, I would still opt to have it if I could.

The only voices in MY head are all me: my better angel and my little devil!

This girl has already phoned Amy a couple times with "messages" she's received from Tom. Not all of them have made pefect sense but then TOM didn't make perfect sense all the time either so who knows??!

Ames has a little list going so she remembers to ask some thought-out questions. I asked her to add one more, "Where is the ring Tom occassionally wore? The one that was his father's originally?"

That darn thing is nowhere to be found.

It was only ever one place when it wasn't on Tom's finger but - regardless - I have scoured all the nooks and crannies here at home, gone through pockets and asked for divine intervention all to no avail.

I'm hoping this lady can shed some light on the subject. Finding it would really brighten my day and, frankly, I could use some brightening.

C'mon, Tom, cough it up! TWJ needs some bling.

It's The Berrys

The countdown is on for my sister Toot and her "I saw you na-ked!" husband Dick to leave Sarasota and head home to their natural habitat below the crook of your left elbow on Cape Cod.

This is bad for me. Very very bad.

I am not generally a pathetic person. I pride myself on being a Big Girl able to take some knocks and bounce right back for more. But having my sister (and Dick!)here to lean on in my bereavement has meant more to me than most people and more importantly THEY could ever imagine.

The "Sister Connection" is a transcendent bond. It's as much about history as it is the present. We can speak volumes in a shorthand Gregg never imagined. For better or worse, no one on this earth knows me better than my sister.

I will truly and absolutely miss having her and Dick just a moment away from me.

My head knows all the reasons their departure is necessary and justifiable; but my open wound of a heart fears their going might be the straw that breaks my camel's back.

But do not fear. The Widow Judy will rally. The Widow Judy will suck it up. The Widow Judy will rationalize their leaving as Perfectly Acceptable because it absolutely is.

Little SISTER Judy, however, is not nearly so mature. She'll be the one crying in the bathtub.

Again.

Siesta Anyone?

The beach is the place to be in Sarasota Florida.

My favorite is the public beach on Siesta Key. Such a deal!! It costs NOTHING to park or use the facilities. Can't beat that with a stick!!

I was there yesterday with my friend Terry and her daughter Tracey. They are here on vacation from Ohio and are beachlovers of the First Order.

Because I have lots of company and am often spending whole days at the beach I do my best to slather #40 lotion all over my body and keep my completely buttoned cover-up ON unless I'm in the Gulf itself.

I found the most marvelous beach chair at Walgreens which also assists in limiting my exposure to the sun. It has a long canopy and a French Foreign Legion hat flap in the back so if I turn my chair away from the sun I can sit for hours in shade I've provided for myself!

(SOME people say I am 'high maintenance' but how can that be when I provide my own shade AND can-and-do make my own fingernails??

But I digress....)

Terry and Tracey have no such qualms about sun exposure. Their goal is to turn as brown as they possibly can in the days available. This year only one rainy day has interrupted the quest so they're well on their way to having fabulous tans. Maybe the best ever! I'll be joining them again today at Siesta.

The beach crowd has already begun to thin, many of our snowbirds having departed on April first. And it would appear that a great many more school districts had their Easter break last week and not THIS. At least, that's my assumption seeing less than half the number of beachgoers yesterday than I saw last week when Beckie, Gret, Reece and I were on the Key.

One thing is for sure, if you have any "body issues" at all just come to the beach where I can assure that, in comparison, there will be many stranger bodies than your own and you will, therefore, leave feeling pretty darn good about yourself!

I inherited my Grandma Kate's odd shape once I hit menopause. Until then I was usually described as "healthy-looking" which meant I looked OK and had some meat on my bones. But at 40 the Great Shift occurred and suddenly, while in proportion elsewhere, my tummy became distended and I consistently appear to be about 6 months pregnant - 5 if I'm dieting.

Still, even given the above, I don't feel freakish at the beach.

Neither will you!

So... come on down. Look for me - I always sit on a straight line to the beach from the steps at the concesssion stand. My blue and white striped chair is easy to pick out.

I'll save you a space.

Naked Dick

I SAW DICK BERRY NAKED!

No, my eyes weren't burned out of my head, neither did the earth stand still but - and there's always that big but - once I got past the shock I was actually kind of glad it happened.

The encounter was entirely accidental. I stopped to see my infirm sister Toot and, not finding her in the regular position watching WebTV in the den, I called out a theatrical, "Hello," and started back to the bedroom seeking her out.

Usually Dick Berry isn't even HOME at the hour of 10:00AM since that is prime walk-time for him either in the hood or at the beach.

However, he heard my "Hello" and interpreted it as "Help", flung open the bathroom door and just as I hit the hallway there he was in his altogether!!

LOL.

He was expecting to see a collapsed Toot and instead found a wide-eyed ME!?

Too funny.

I turned heel and scooted to the bedroom with a weak, "Oh, hi Dick..." while he stepped quickly backwards shutting the door and saying, "Well, hello, Judith."

In truth, I wasn't as upset as I probably should have been because Dick Berry naked looked nearly identical to Tom Tuschak naked!! Seeing his body brought back a flood of remembrances, all good.

I apologized, of course, but only half-heartedly.

Dick? Thanks for the memories.

Carpe(t) Diem!

There's joy in Mudville! The carpet guy is here taking out the old and laying the new.

I really can't comprehend how we, as four then three adults, could have made such an unholy mess of the family room rug in under four years but we did. It looks like we walked around dribbling food and drink daily?

We didn't. At least... not that I ever saw. But the rug says pointedly, "Yes, you did!" in spots galore.

I can't explain these things. All I know is, we need new carpet and we're getting it today!!

One guy showed up to do the job. Suzy and Thom moved all but the heaviest furniture out of the room last night - two sofas, a 5-tiered CD shelving unit, and a hugh entertainment center remained.

For one guy.

He didn't even flinch! He had with him four plastic circles each the size of a cappuchino saucer and they made moving everything easy as pie. I was amazed!

Gots to get me a set of those!!!

Tom's spirit is here with us today. When Mike the Mover pulled the CD cabinet away from the wall - voila - there was an 8x12 picture of Tom laying on the rug!? I tell you honestly I've never seen this picture before in my life but there he is filling the foreground with a broad smile, his arms outstretched as if waiting for an embrace.

Made me smile.

And cry.

But, mostly, smile!!

The old carpet was a plush. That didn't work for us, obviously, so this time we went with a patterned berber. I have some hope we can do better NOT dribbling from here on out. But then... I am getting older and dribbling does seem to be a part of the aging process??

I'll do my best. That's all I can do, I cain't do no more!

3 Bunry

Easter is the stepchild of holidays on my calendar.

I'm torn knowing Christ's "rising" is cause for celebration but the agony of the cross can't be denied and tempers my joy.

Somehow, in my mind, the subject is just too serious to warrant silliness. How a bunny cavorting through town leaving colored eggs and jelly beans or ladies parading in fancy hats fit into the scenario of the Easter message does not compute with TWJ.

Christmas has Scrooge, Easter has me. Bah. Humbug, I say!

Every other holiday I go all out; no stone is left unturned celebrating Christmas, Valentine's Day, Halloween, Independence Day, birthdays - you name it. But I have to force myself to follow the conventions surrounding Easter.

Ham or lamb? For us the ham traditionally wins out even though no one particularly likes it and there's always a ton of it left over which, by Thursday, I'll toss in the garbage.

Even the candy choices at Easter are lousy; Peeps are sickeningly sweet, jelly beans all have an aftertaste of motor oil, speckled malted milk balls turn your teeth blue.

I love the look of the hugh baskets wrapped in colored cellophane sold at CVS, Walgreens, Target... but they never seem to have the things in them that kids I know actually want and are, therefore, simply a waste.

The best thing I ever did was hide plastic Easter eggs full of coins and money. That went over VERY large with my girls! But is that in the spirit of Easter? I don't think so.

None of it really makes sense to me. Christ and eggs? A tomb and chocolate bunnies??
A shroud and flowery hats???

Can somebody 'splain it to me, please?

One year I got each of my girls a pretty spun sugar egg with a 3-D scene inside. Period. No baskets, no eggs hidden with treats OR money. The Easter bunny left them a note telling them to have a Happy Easter but in writing it upside down and backwards (a hidden talent of mine!)it appeared the bunny signed off as "3 Bunry" instead of E. Bunny!? I'm pretty sure that's the year they stopped believing....

I tried after that to put a better face on celebrating the holiday but my heart was never in it. Still isn't. But at least now I don't have any children to disappoint so I consider that a coup of sorts.

I wish you all a Happy Easter however that translates in your home. May 3 Bunry never darken your door.