Something Beautiful

As encouraged by Donna, here is something beautiful - a view from my patio in Margate, FL.

The Big Apple

A few years ago, I started taking my daughters into NYC to have dinner and see a show for their birthdays. Laney's is Sept. 2 and Laurie's is Sept. 11th (yes, her b'day is 9-11!).

Oh, we have so much fun! Laney gets to dress really *chic* and Laurie and I gawk. Last year, Laney's shoes were the fashion statement. They were 3" or 4" spike heels, very pointed toes in a pale magenta-ish color. She wore very cool jeans that accented her toned, lithe, runner's body, her jacket matched her shoes, a big bead necklace accessorized the outfit perfectly. Her hair was styled in a very cute flip at the ends which she dared to move (even her hair obeys). She was stunning! Laurie and I wore, um, um, uh, we were dressed. To this minute I still don't know how she walked the streets of Manhattan with those shoes. To her credit, she didn't utter one word of complaint. It's amazing what one will one endure for the sake of fashion.

This year, we're going again. I am flying up to NJ and will have the tickets to see The Producers waiting for us at the St James Theatre box office. I purchased the tickets and want to tell you about that experience.

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I had a discount code to purchase the tickets and found that I couldn't use the code online. I needed to order the tickets by phone. The orchestra seats that were available for the date we wanted were way in the back and off to the right. I found some good seats in the fourth row of the mezzanine when online and I asked the agent for those.

Agent: Those seats are not available.
Me: I just saw them online.
Agent: There are 100 agents, someone else must have gotten to them.
Me: I see them here on my screen.
Agent: Well, that's the problem, you have them on hold!

I closed the online window and the agent graciously waited for the seats to become available.
I thanked her for her patience - told her how much I appreciated her kindness.

Agent: OK, I have the seats here, they are $101.75 each x 3.
Me: Oh no, I forgot to give you my discount code.
Agent: Oh, that's bad. I have to leave this screen and start over. You may miss the seats afterall.

Now the agent tells me the seats are gone and the best ones she can find are four rows behind.
She tried to find better seats but couldn't - I know she tried because I could hear a series of clicks followed by a "no", "sigh". Frustrated, I finally agreed to the less desirable seats. Then-

Agent: Wait just a minute. I think I have those good seats. Boy, you sure must live right.
Me: You have them, really?
Agent: Yes, I do. They are available. Like I said, you are one lucky lady!
Me: You know, the Bible says that the steps of a man are ordered by the Lord. I believe the Lord went before me and provided those seats for me.
Agent: Yes, He did, because I never saw this happen before. God does things like this to show us His grace is real. This is so much fun, I am enjoying my job today.

I had so much fun, too. We went on to finish the transaction while talking about the goodness of God and the blessings He brings into our lives for no other reason but because He loves us.

God loves you - you are created for His pleasure! Rejoice in that knowledge today, dear one.

Friends

Our friend, Richie, has been in intensive care since last Saturday, 8/20. He went to the emergency room on that day b/c he had a pain in his back that he could not tolerate. He ended up having surgery to repair a ruptured aortic aneurysm which the doctor gave him a 20% chance of surviving. When he was wheeled into the recovery room six hours later we were euphoric. We continue to praise God for sparing him and keeping him. Since then he has been set back by "shock lung", a.k.a. acute respiratory distress syndrome, which can happen to people who suffer trauma. Today, he is doing a little bit better. We are told that his recovery will be in baby steps.
Our days have been occupied with praying for and visiting with Richie. Not that he has any idea we are there, he is being kept sedated b/c he is on a ventilator and gets very agitated when awake. So when we visit, we watch the numbers on all the monitors, count his respirations, try to count the tubes which are coming and going into his body, and PRAY.

Richie has been my husband's friend since high school - that was over 50 years ago. The first time I met him was on the first date with my husband. He was the best man at our wedding in 1970 - he's family. He genuinely cares about our children and grandchildren and they feel the same about him. He is a true friend. We are sad that he is so sick.

Joe is talking! 

The Boys, minus Baby Tom 

Boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy & more boys.

The Boys

These are the men in my life - the photo on my computer screen. My son Jon holding grandson Joe, John (with the hat) Jeremy holding Tom! My heart skips a beat when I walk into the room and see my computer screen.

Mail and stuff

I am finally down to the last pieces of paper from the stacks of our mail and our son's mail which was waiting for me when I returned home last week. Although we use online banking and bill pay, there is still a mountain of mail when it stacks up for 50+ days. My dear husband had short stacks of it in several places, he probably thought small doses would make it easier to handle.

I haven't really been able to rest, knowing there was all that work to do. I don't know how to pace myself when there is a big job to do. My usual approach is to tackle it as soon as possible and not stop until it's done or my eyes can't focus or my body refuses to move any more. If my husband is around he will make me quit - if I make a big fuss about quitting, he'll go to bed and leave me working. He's Irish, but he's no fool!

So now that I have one more item on the desk - correspondence with the IRS that needs my attention *groan!* - I am mentally preparing a list of decorating projects I have put off 'til the fall. I'll have questions about color and such, but I'll keep you posted.
And, I will finish my France scrapbook.
I'm thankful for free time.

Nobody cares about you...

...they only care about their own butt. That's what Laney said when I told her I didn't want to join the gym because I don't like people watching me.
Then she made me call for an appointment to tour the facility, which I did.
Then, she went with me, and brought the grandsons.
Then I signed up! What choice did I have?

In the beginning, I felt like a child whose mother left them in a scary place with strangers. Then I would remind myself of those encouraging words from my daughter "Nobody cares about you, Mom, they only care about their own butt", and I would concentrate on the workout. I found that she was right, people weren't interested in my reflection in those mirrors, they were looking at themselves.

That was more than three years ago.
Since moving to FL last year, I've been walking - and I mean WALKING! And because I left my car in NJ and we only have husband's car, some days I walk 7+ miles to shop, do errands, etc. While walking, I listen to books on tape which I borrow from the library or occasionally call friends and family from my cell phone.
That plan worked fine for the FL winter, when the temperatures are in the mid 70's to mid 80's with low humidity. BUT NOW, in August? Temperatures are in the 90's with the humidity at almost the same degree morning, noon and night. Uggghhh! It's sauna like conditons.

So - I joined another gym. I took advantage of the special family add-on at my husband's gym (he has always belonged to a gym). So now, if I go to the gym with my husband, (which is what he is hoping for) there will be someone there who cares about me - and my butt!

Camping

My grandsons and I recently returned from an 8 day camping trip in the Adirondack Mountains on Lake George, NY. It has been my family's summer vacation spot since I was 10 years old. My parents found camping to be an ideal vacation for their family of eight children. To date, all of my brothers and sisters camp with their families. Some summers six siblings (with spouses and children in tow) can be found at Roger's Rock Campground on Lake George during the last week of July and the first week of August. We follow much of the tradition started by our Dad, who loved the mountains and lake. During the day we hike the trails, ride bikes, swim, fish, enjoy boat rides, waterski. In the evening, we build campfires, roast marshmallows, play cards, board games, sit and talk.

Boy, did we have fun this year! Reasons why?
1. My dear, dear, husband didn't join us and, although I missed him, I didn't miss the all the camping rules he enforces. I won't elaborate for the sake of space and time. This can cause stress.

2. My dear, dear daughter (the mother of the two grandsons) didn't join us either.
Laney has a difficult time keeping the woods clean. There is no electricity in the woods. She rakes the ground, sweeps out the tent and expects it to stay that way. We are surrounded by dirt and trees, in the midst of spiders, flying insects, birds, and small animals but she strives to maintain the campsite as though it was her living room. This can cause stress.

The kids know this about her, too. Here's an example -
John, Jeremy and I passed a campsite on the way from swimming which had a huge indoor-outdoor carpet spread out across the dirt, ending about three feet from the fireplace. Their picnic table was in the center of the carpet. When the boys saw it they said:
John: "My Mom would love that carpet. (laughing) If she had that, she would try to vacuum it."
Jeremy: "Yeh, and she would say, 'BOYS!, (imitating her stern voice) take your shoes off before you come on the campsite!'"

We were free! Bedtime was when we were too tired to stand up. Mealtimes were whenever we were hungry and snacks couldn't hold us. No showers (for the boys) although they did brush teeth at night. No rules! Except for the Candy Bus rules which were: shop the candy bus only once per day and only buy snacks, no toys.

Our tent wasn't the neatest, our campsite wasn't very neat, either. We did get to see the star studded sky one late evening. It was awesome! We took the boat to Prisioner's Island and caught mussels, which we had for dinner that evening. We built a sand mansion. I read a paragraph of the book I brought along. (Silly me!) We took long walks and bike rides. We went into the village and played games in the arcade. We had fried chicken in the Hot Biscuit, Ticonderoga's leading restaurant, and went to the Wind Chill for ice cream. We talked a lot, about a lot of things. We fished non-stop for two days (they all got away!) and Jeremy said this about fishing, "I want to do this for the rest of my life." John, the little workaholic, didn't talk about working all week. We savored every moment.

We had fun, fun, fun.