Wouldn't It Be Easier To Move...

Day One...Bathroom redo...

Imagine this...cool white tiles but some random black ones thrown in for a checkerboard pattern at the top and at the bottom.

A rainshower shower head.

Lots of room...we made our shower bigger...and took out the seat...not because we wanted to but because it collapsed...

sort of.

Peace.

A moment with green tea organic soap from The Fresh Market.

Skin that is cleansed and smoothed and clean in my own shower...

Not the one down the hall.

Reality bites...

Day One...Bathroom redo...

Three men...very nice men and one young man...going up and down the hardwood stairs at least five hundred times with bucket after bucket of old icky tiles...

Drilling and hammering and drilling and hammering.

Me tense...my first redo...jumping up to see what anyone needed about a million times...

Lucy...staring up at the ceiling and ducking...all day long...

The amazing thing is that our contractor is a neat freak...he came, he saw and he conquered our bathroom.

No one needed me...I offered fruit, juice, water, sodas...no one wanted anything.

I offered the kitchen table for their lunch...they ate outside...

I think I was an actual pain in the neck to them.

Finally I got the hint and sat in the family room and read and watched tv.

I will be better tomorrow.

They left the house spotless.

I will be spending the next week and more with my new friends.

Should I try chocolate chip cookies?

Happy Birthday To My Sister!!!

Happy Birthday to my sister Paula!!!

My mom would be really proud of my sister. She would have loved the way my sister is a sweet and loving grandparent to her grandchildren. My sister is way too young to be called Grandma so her grandbabies call her something else…something that does not even sound like grandma.

My sister was the one who was physically the closest to my parents…She lived in the town we grew up in only blocks away from my mom and dad. I think my mom and dad always felt safe with her nearby. She would stop and see them every day, shop for them, bring them the paper, bake them treats, bring them special foods and later on do their banking and bill paying and appointment making. She was their rock. I know it was hard for her. 

My brothers and I tried to relieve her as much as we could but it could never ever be enough. She willingly cared for them and did as much for them as she could. I know she thinks she did not do enough but that is so not the case. She did so much and my mom and dad are proud of her and will always smile at her from heaven. My mom always used the word “my” before our names. She would always say “Oh my Paula or My John or My Jimmy or My Patty”. I know that even when she was so ill and so unsure of things…her face lit up when she saw her Paula. I can only say this again…my sister was her rock. I was the weak one while my sister did the stuff that needed to be done. My sister Paula did the hard stuff.

 I would breeze in and try to take up the slack but my sister was the one who did what needed to be done day after day after day. When we were little we would always play together. My mom always dressed us alike for some odd reason. We had the same dolls but with different names. We read the same books. We played with the same friends. When I was finally given the responsibility of watching my sister Paula…I inadvertently lost her. We were mere blocks from our house at our town’s July 4th Festival. I remember putting her on a baby merry go round…then I got distracted with my friends and turned away from where the merry go round would stop. In those few seconds she stepped off the merry go round, was rescued and brought home to my mom by our neighbor. You can imagine how mad my mom was when I came home without her. I had a long story ready in my head about how I lost her…but she was safe at home eating cookies. I don’t think she even knew she was lost.

My sister Paula remains the anchor of the four of us today. She doesn’t want this…she doesn’t need it…but she is my anchor…she will always be where I call home. She is who I check in with and talk to not every day but a few times a week. Her cooking is what I want. Her house is where I go for Thanksgiving. And she was the last of us to see my mom and dad alive. Just one more way that she took care of them.

Happy Birthday, Paula!!!



Zucchini Update...

Everyone in my neighborhood seemed to be dealing with the zucchini crisis yesterday.

I was determined not to join in.

Then zucchini guilt overwhelmed me.

I made two loaves of zucchini bread.

I read some comments on my blog.

I grated zucchini for future use.

I made zucchini pancakes today...Mario Batali's recipe from this month's Food and Wine Magazine...yummy...they have ricotta cheese inside of them...

really yummy.

I am going to put grated zucchini in pasta sauce.

Thank you, Kathy!!!

I am going to put grated zucchini in the freezer.

Thank you, Jen!!!

I am going to make grilled zucchini pizza.

Thank you random lady on Allrecipes!!!

I feel quite satisfied with my zucchini success.

Hmmm...what veggie should I conquer next?

Werewolves And Zucchini...

I have read so much about this book this week...both in ShelfAwareness and in the upcoming Sunday New York Times book review section...

And it will be sad and sweet...I am sure...finding out what happens in the last book of this trilogy.

And...why is it that it takes zucchini about five seconds to flourish and multiply!!!

What in the world will I do with all of them?

I have tried...cake, bread, fritters, pie, pancakes and simply sauteed and grilled but they just will not go away!!!

Woodstock? Lost On Me...

On our way back from Massachusetts...while I had my head in my Kindle...my husband apparently mentioned to me that I could fulfill a lifelong goal of his if we ventured a bit off of our route and went to Woodstock.  I apparently nodded in agreement.

My husband says I did so enthusiastically.  I do not remember being enthusiastic.

What seemed like hours and hours of windy bathroomless country roads later...we pulled into this sort of huge grassy area.

I guess I was a little whiny.

But...

who knew a grown man could cry over the Who...being there...years ago...I was clueless and speechless.  And Janis and Jimmi and Crosby, Stills and Nash and Young...and Grace Slick?   All of the above reverant names to my music loving husband.  He literally was once again speechless...as  I was once again clueless...

My music involvement basically revolves around sound tracks...Dirty Dancing and Twilight and A Night At The Museum...music my husband openly scoffs.

The above is a photo of Lucy and Patty at the head of the Woodstock bird.  I have to say I thought the Woodstock birdie was the one on Charlie Brown.  Lucy was not that happy and my hair is pulled back into a ponytail because the wind was really blowing on both of us.

We were supposed to have a lovely picnic there...this involved my husband wolfing down his sandwich to take more photos...and taking Lucy off to touch almost every plaque at Woodstock.  I just barely stopped my husband from driving into the famous farmhouse. 

I saw an entire scary side of him I never knew existed.

Apparently it is thrilling to see the pond where naked stoned music lovers had mud fights.

And a magical bus painted in all of the colors of the rainbow.

This is a much better photo of the Woodstock birdie.

While munching on my chips and organic tuna sandwich...I watched my husband take photos and movies of everything in sight.  I could almost see what he was thinking.

I could sense that he wanted to have been there.

I can't say that I even remember Woodstock or noticed that it was going on.

My husband is in shock at this statement.

Is there a moment in your history that changed you forever?