Impatience, Impatiens

I’ve always considered myself a patient person, not always, mind you, but most of the time. I am certainly not patient or forgiving when I’m driving and someone cuts me off. I curse and hold up a finger. When our son was really young and asked what it meant I told him it meant “wait a minute.” He believed that for years.

I’m patient on supermarket lines, I’m patient with (most) people, I listen well, I like to think I’m a good, loyal friend. Indeed, I have high standards for myself and used to think everyone was like me but Life taught me that lesson the hard way several times over. How do you know differently if the way your family acts is the only way you know?

My friends are all very different from me but now what keeps us together is not lunch dates, meeting in the city on a weekend for brunch or long telephone calls but stupid text messages or IM’s.  I confuse them all the time as my adult children roll their eyes and grimace.

I hate that, text messages to say Happy Birthday, text messages to say Hello, text messages to find out how a surgery went, text messages to show your deepest sympathy and one death announcement I had to read about on Facebook. It’s all the norm now.

Of course, my adult children, think I am old-fashioned and nuts. Beside that the iPhone to me is a strange and complicated piece of equipment, why can’t we just use the phone as the phone was really intended? To talk. It doesn’t seem popular anymore except for those of us “oldies.”

I will ask my kids to call their grandparents and they will do that responsibly but they will say “they weren’t home, we will try again later.” “Did you leave a message” I ask? A reasonable question, I think, and they look at me like the dinosaur that I am and say with a scolding dismay “Mom, our generation doesn’t LEAVE messages, we just try again later.”

It’s no surprise that I’m not good with change but I try as best I can. Knowing I’m not good with change makes me try harder than most. At this point in our lives my husband and I are waiting for change to happen, waiting for a clue to point us in the right direction on what we should do and where we should go in the future for the next chapter in our lives.

My friends say that “I will know it when it happens” and I believe that is true, but it has been a very long time and being patient has been getting harder and harder. I need to relax, look within and wait for the Spring. I think things will start to get clearer then. If nothing else, the dreadful Winter, will be over and Life will begin anew.


One Of Our Own

When the sudden death of Robin Williams became known on Sunday night, slowly at first, you could hear people gasp as they looked at their phones or their televisions or answered a phone call from a friend. Nobody expected this and many, including myself, said out loud “Robin William is DEAD?” As if this was not entirely possible.

For those of us in the baby boomer age range we took it harder than most, Robin Williams was one of our own, he was in our age group, we felt we knew him a tiny bit, having grown up with him and the shows he was on.

Robin Williams and Pam Dawber as Mork and Mindy

Robin Williams and Pam Dawber as Mork and Mindy (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We started with Mork and Mindy but that never impressed us as much as future roles because then, we thought he was just acting, remembering lines, doing physical comedy to perfection. Only later did we find out that he was improvising the entire time, words bouncing off him like soccer balls on a field.

Many people have died, many actors and actresses, and later, the same day the beloved Lauren Bacall died but yet she was barely mentioned. “She had a good, long life” people said, almost as if her death was not as important as Robin’s. Robin’s death was a choice, some would say, he committed suicide but I don’t think if he was in his right mind that he would have made that same choice. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

Robin was ill, mentally ill and apparently he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease years ago but had suffered with that diagnosis in silence. He was not yet ready to share this new pain with the world. I don’t know what kind of therapists or medications he was on when he died but I am sure he had access to the best doctor’s anywhere. Yet, even they could not help him.

English: Robin Williams, U.S. actor, at the 20...

English: Robin Williams, U.S. actor, at the 2008 BBC World Debate. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My own father had open heart surgery, a quadruple by-pass operation in the city over twenty years ago and no one at that time told us of that depression would be a likely side effect down the road.  He went to one of the best doctors in NYC. While the operation itself “was a success” we had no idea what was happening years after when he sunk into a deep depression. Yes, he did see a professional and he did swallow pills. He wasn’t always depressed, it came and went in spurts but I don’t think he was ever the same.

Deep inside I know he wanted to die but I made him promise me not to ever take his life. He promised. He had physical problems as well and they became more pronounced as he got older and more frail. I knew, through instinct, that he would die in three months time from a variety of reasons. I felt it, I am an “empath intuitive,” I knew from the way my dad showed it to me, the things he said. I confirmed it with a person I trusted.

Let’s try to take care of each other, not only when we seem overtly sad or depressed but also, when we don’t. Look behind the laughter, watch out for each other, be kind always.


Baby Boomers Stuck In Traffic

We’re a generation of being stuck, not really here nor are we there yet, we are right smack in the middle. In the middle of what, you might ask? Well, we are still a little unclear about that too but we know a big change is coming soon. A big, big change. Now, we are just about ready to handle it and we are patiently (okay, not so patiently) waiting for it to find us. It will, I’m sure. We’re looking outside and within.

Thankfully, unemployment has forced many people to plan for the next step in their lives  a little earlier than they wanted. The early push, through, made us go through the stages: the terrified, freaked out, tearful, frenzied stage and we have now started to calm down and have a game plan. We have some sense of what we want to do in the future, which in itself, is a huge step and stress reducing too. We have no choice.

English: Trees and sunset at the beach in Coli...

English: Trees and sunset at the beach in Colington Harbour on Colington Island, North Carolina. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What to do, where to go? Aging Baby Boomers in a frenzy? Yep, I’m right there with you, I agree, “it’s time to figure out our path.” Let’s face it our children are now grown adults, very soon they will be college graduates, they don’t need us, in the same way, as they did before. I’m not sad about that anymore ( of course, I was) I’m proud of both adult children.

It’s time to focus on my husband and me and to start again. Living in the same place for many, many years has been amazing, seeing my children grow from babies to adults has been the best present anyone could have given me. I both love and like these two very different people. They have their own lives and are accepting that their lives will change too, not necessarily by choice but out of necessity.

We can’t afford to stay in the same, expensive neighborhood, (paying for school taxes was FINE and (that were worth every penny  when they were still in school !!! )  but they graduated and they don’t go to school here anymore. It’s time to think about moving on. Where to go? We are not sure just yet but we both agree it’s time think about it. Where to go? The million dollar question. Any suggestions?  One state, maybe one country at a time.

Having worked through the age issue, the comfort issue, I am now looking forward to our next chapter. I know one important thing, for me, I need to live near water and we will rent a town house or condo, not buy, at least not for a year or two. That’s in my comfort zone and it’s my turn to have a say. A strong say.

Picture us anywhere, Florida, Maine, North Carolina, off the coast of Spain? We’re not sure where we are going but we know for sure we are thinking about being on our way.

It won’t be easy, change is always bittersweet. But, overpaying for something you can’t afford just because of familiarity is certainly not the way to go. Change will present itself to us, I’m sure. Our eyes and hearts are open, we’re listening.





Haiku Horizons: Bones

Beautiful girl, love,

light from soul, not bones or weight

Spirit is within.


#FWF, Kellie Elmore

Photographer: Zaire Kacz Model: Morgan Daye PayneLl

“Look Bitches, I so rock this dress and I don’t give a damn what you think. Not YOU, Mom, I WASN’T calling you a bitch, it’s just the other models can be so mean and no, you are not going to drag my tush back to Iowa in two seconds. I promise. Yes, I apologize. OK, fine, I’m calm.

No, it is NOT made out of feathers and no, MOM, damn you I have told for a thousand times it is not the friggin recycled New York Times. It’s a DESIGNER dress, yes one of a kind. I am so modeling it in a show and NO you can’t come to watch. Why?` Because you wouldn’t fit in. I mean you wouldn’t feel comfortable because you would have to stand on your feet all day, yeah, I don’t think there ARE chairs because it’s the runway. Why do they call it the runway? Sigh, mom, it’s just a term because the models go down a long place kind of like the place the airplanes land. No, mom, there will be no airplanes there, you don’t have to worry that they will crash and we will all be dead. I know “mother’s worry” and yes, if i have a child I will know what it is like but I’m not even sure I WANT to have children.

Okay, okay, calm down, I just meant I’m too young. You wouldn’t want me to have a child out of wedlock, right? There, see I told you everything would be fine. Now, daddy is over there in the corner and he told me he wants to take you out to breakfast. Yes, he did and I gave him money so you could have a really nice, long breakfast at The Ritz Carlton. What do you mean you won’t take my tarnished money, Jesus, mom I’m a model not a hooker. I’m sorry I took the good Lord’s name in vain but you have to know you hurt my feelings. Fine, apology accepted, now, just please go so I can finish the shoot and we will get together for dinner later, Ok? “

“I thought they would never leave, and they are never, EVER, allowed to come back to any shoot, DO YOU HEAR ME, SHE SCREAMED OUT OF CONTROL?” The staff nodded quietly, they knew this model’s moods and her habits. She said she needed ten minutes and she surely did. She was a crack addict and went back to her trailer to shoot up so she might be able to get through at least half of the next shoot. They didn’t call it shoot for nothing.

Food Mess Up? There’s Always A Remedy

I’m not saying that I am the most conventional cook or baker, some would say I am very odd and quirky but I do enjoy my own recipes and remedies and basically that’s all that matters to me. I’m kidding!

I haven’t done a lot of cooking lately, but I made a lovely baked ziti dinner for an elderly man in our community who is sick and needed food and at the same time I taught my college kid how to make her own ziti in the process. You can’t get easier than baked ziti.It’s just a matter of balancing the cheese, sauce and noodles. Once I made it and it was like a grilled cheese sandwich, another time I made it and there was way too much sauce. That is why bread was invented, to dunk into the sauce. No problem here. I would have liked to have added chopped meat to make it more like a sloppy lasagna but my daughter is a vegetarian so that was a strict no-no.


My husband has cooked dinner lately, I try to appreciate it every single time he cooks. But, he has a habit of sneaking ingredients in that he KNOWS I don’t like. Perhaps he thinks, that like a 5-year-old, I won’t detect them. WRONG.

He told me he was making chicken burgers which I was looking forward to, he was working and I ate by myself. The chicken burgers looked…interesting three of them looked like they had a special sweet sauce on them, one was plain. I stuck my finger into one of the burgers with sauce and  licked my finger, my mouth burned with fire. The heat of the diabolical sauce filled my mouth and I ran for a tall glass of water. I can tolerate spicy food but that was over the top .I guess I assumed (wrongly) it was sweet. We had peach salsa in the refrigerator and it was up in front so I assumed he used that but it didn’t make sense, I love that stuff.

I then assumed that he must have made the plain one. I took that one over to the counter, seated myself comfortably, took my favorite beverage ( no not a glass of red wine or beer) a Yoo-Hoo and with my fork and knife and


English: Yoo-hoo Chocolate Drink; Ten (10) 6.5...

English: Yoo-hoo Chocolate Drink; Ten (10) 6.5 fl.oz. drink boxes, in package. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

eagerly took a large bite of my burger. Oh dear God, was it me or was my mouth burning ANEW? It wasn’t the old burn but a new source of heat. I contemplated very briefly if my husband was trying to kill me but I knew there had to be an easier way than this.


Since we live in the age of technology I texted him “What was in those burgers?” “So spicy I burned my mouth.” I got the usual male answer “Nothing special, a little salt and pepper.”There was no way that was all that was in those burgers I thought to myself. Really? I asked, are you sure, nothing else? There was a very long pause. “Oh yeah, I put  some Worcester sauce in too.” BINGO!!! He snuck the ‘ol Worcester sauce in, knowing I’m not a fan.



SOME? It must have been a lot because even without the spicy salsa, it was like a flame thrower heating up the top of my mouth and throat. Not to mention he knows, to put it gently, I really don’t like (personal opinion only) Worcester sauce. I was too tired to make anything else and there really wasn’t much in the house to make so I knew I needed to remedy this situation in my own, very special way.


I opened the refrigerator and after surveying the items I took out two things. Mayonnaise and orange marmalade. Yes, you read that correctly. Thank goodness my friend Maureen was out-of-town, she still hates the fact that I put grape jelly on dry pizza. What? Oh that, if you get a pizza pie that is not cheesy enough or too dry I recommend grape jelly or jam. It works wonders. (Don’t judge)

Believe it or not, this combo of mayo and orange marmalade was a nice contrast to the burning meat. It knocked the dreaded Worcester sauce to the side and had a soothing effect.Next time, if this happens again, I might substitute plain yogurt for the mayonnaise but the jam stays for sure. Nice touch.

So next time, if you’ve over spiced your food, remember this, there are always techniques to make things less spicy. More spicy is easy. Just be creative and open-minded. Like me.

don’t worry, georgia


A homemade chicken noodle soup with bread

i’m so tired that my eyeballs feel like they are about to pop out of my eyes and start rolling down the wood floor. i am not exaggerating either.  what I have done is the very same thing i tell all my friends with fibromyalgia or chronic disease: don’t over do it. guilty as charged. but it felt so good to have energy for one day and shop with my daughter and I knew that I would pay for it but you do have to make choices. i picked my girl.

I pushed my health to the background, like that second slice of banana custard pie, that you thought you could sneak in on your plate next to the fresh blueberries and raspberries. It was just a  little sliver anyway.  (yeah, who am I kidding.)  i’m under my blankets and will take a pain pill if I need one and I made a meal for an elderly man who needs my help far more than i need my own help. the fact that i could make someone a meal with snacks that was less fortunate than me, made me feel good. i don’t feel good that often.

I ate some of my own home-made chicken soup today that I keep in the freezer, with its restorative powers, with carrots and celery and all the good stuff to nurse me back to my relative health. sometimes this chronic disease just gets to me. but it gets to all of us once in a while and we always bounce back, there is no other choice.

one day of being normal, two days of feeling like crap. it just feels wrong. and unfair. but mostly i’m tired and need to go to bed early with about five covers over me so I am really hot and feel like i am in a cocoon, like a butterfly,

English: Butterfly, Vindula arsinoe. Français ...

a pretty, colorful butterfly.

i’ll go to sleep early, i’ll watch some junky tv, my dog will be near-by. my daughter was happy yesterday and so was I. the years pass so quickly, I may never have the chance to go “back to school shopping” with her again, she’s 20. But, I would make no changes, none. I would do it all over again in a hot second. moms, you understand. i know you do.

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The Comfort Of Comfort Food


An Orange Julius stall outside Liat Towers, Or...My old friend, Steve, told me that lately he was enjoying ice cream floats as we used to call them. Since then I have been obsessed at the thought of making one. I made one tonight but it was so disappointing. What happened?  I added vanilla ice cream to Diet Vanilla Coke. Maybe it was the substitution of the Diet Coke compared to the “real thing?”  It was nothing special, it fizzed a little and I drank it, but it held no nostalgia and no particular special taste.

I miss Orange Julius. Does anyone remember them? I used to look forward to buying a large Orange Julius when I was a teenager,  there was a stand in practically every mall. They were an icon, a bit of American History. Where did they go? Are there any stores left? I think it may be that if I drank one today I would not enjoy the taste as much as I did years ago. ( Who am I kidding?)  I remember them being sold in the city along with grilled hot dogs, the smell of the hot dogs blending with the sweet smell of Orange Julius. Those are some memories that last a lifetime.

I guess I could try to make one, orange juice, vanilla ice cream,? A melted creamsicle? I don’t know but it wouldn’t be the same as hearing the whirl of the blender and seeing the huge cup it came in with the plastic straw sticking out. I miss my youth, mostly the food. Nah, I miss my youth too sometimes.

Today, I heard a commercial for some chain store selling frozen hot chocolate. “Wow, I thought, how the mighty have fallen.” The frozen hot chocolate was a very special drink made many years ago in a lovely albeit expensive restaurant in New York City called Serendipity. I’d be surprised if they hadn’t patented that name, (a word to the wise Serendipity: check it out). This enormous, delightful drink was shared by my best friend and I for many years. It was our signature place before it was well-known, expensive and crowded.

Frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity

Frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity (Photo credit: Betty B)

When I moved to Boston many years ago,  my friend, Denise, set up her camera outside of Serendipity, had a table covered with a tablecloth and ordered a frozen hot chocolate; she took a photo of it and put it in a frame for my birthday. It was one of the most thoughtful birthday presents I have ever received. I still have it.

We don’t go there anymore, haven’t been for years. We don’t even see each other and our friendship has changed dramatically but I will always cherish that picture, that span of years when we treated ourselves to Serendipity and giggled continuously while munching on our over-sized chicken salad sandwiches on toasted buttery raisin bread. The last time I saw a photo of Serendipity (I think there are two or three locations now) Suri Cruise goes there frequently ( from the magazines.) I’m not sure I would want to go back anymore. We loved it when it was quiet, unknown and quirky.

I associate good times with food, but when things are down or bad I really can’t eat. Food repulses me. The only thing I can eat when I am very nervous or upset are my comfort foods, either an American cheese sandwich (on mushy bread with butter) and a Yoo Hoo or scrambled eggs, toast, butter and jam. No exceptions except in the winter for home-made chicken soup.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of comfort food and that’s alright. In addition there’s  pizza, which to me is comfort food on any day. Any season.

If it makes you happy, eat what you want in moderation and with respect to dietary restrictions. Even so, once in a while, have a bite of chocolate if you really want it. Just don’t have the bar. Live. Be as happy as you can be. Every single day. Be grateful for what you do have not what you don’t.

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