TBT: Reprints from CJ's Whine and Cheeze

 

In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

On a Serious Note

As much as I laugh about OPD, it's also a cover up. It's so hard to watch your parents age and in the aging fail in health. Through illness they are no longer able to do and enjoy some of the activities they once enjoyed. Sometimes they focus more on what they have lost instead of what they still have. I suppose we are all guilty of that.

It's hard being the child and suddenly having to be parent to your parents. You worry did they leave the stove on, or forget medication, or will get into a car accident. They don't handle money as well as they once did. And it's hard to know the boundaries. How do you tell them to give up their independence by handing over the check book or the car keys? Most of all, you want to scream, "Not my monkey!" (translation: not my responsibility), but if not mine whose?

I'm not an evil person because I laugh about OPD. I'm scared. It might not be very long before someone drops a nursing home on me.

TBT: Reprints from CJ's Whine and Cheeze

 In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Sandwich

I've been a bit surprised in my travels with a bottle of whine, how many of us are sandwiched between commitments in our lives: family, parents, work, friends, church, etc. Sometimes it seems no matter how long or fast we dance, we just can't please everyone. So how does one deal with stress and frustration? You just keep on dancing the best you can.

A friend asked if whining...er...blogging was cathartic. Heck, yeah! And it's cheaper and more fun than therapy too. 😉

TBT: Reprints from CJ's Whine and Cheeze

  In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

OPD and Logic

I've been looking through the photo album I got from the Weebles. I'm excited about the photos because I want to use them to create an altered cookbook to trace the family history through the family recipes.

Came across this photo and didn't recognize any of the men. Showed it to Himself and said, "Doesn't this look like the Godfather's button men?" I started humming the theme to The Godfather.

Flipping through other pictures I found the man in the foreground not wearing a hat is my mother's father. (The only grandparent I knew growing up was my mother's mother, ) Called Dad to ask him if he remembered this picture. I don't recall hearing stories of my maternal grandfather having siblings. Dad didn't really remember the picture, but said he thought his father might be in the photograph. He described his father, tall, glasses and always well dressed. (He was a tailor.) The tall man in the back must be my father's father.

"You know, Dad, none of these photographs are labeled. There's nothing written on them to say who the people in these pictures are."

"Don't worry, about that, honey. We (Ma and Dad) know who the people are.

"That's great, Dad, but what happens when you're dead?

TBT: Reprints from CJ's Whine and Cheeze

 In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Friday, October 06, 2006

To Mahket, To Mahket

As I was heading down the Pike this morning, I was wishing I had my corduroy cap from 7th grade. The one that made Dougie Horton call me Kato. It was a cool cap, and I'd like to have a uniform for my new chauffeur duties, and a wicked car like the Green Hornet's Black Beauty.

Anywho, I thought the shopping expedition was going to turn out to be a nightmare, especially with the full moon rising tonight. It almost started that way, and I was so glad I had taken a dose of Excedrin before I left home. I was also feeling put upon, because Dad wasn't going to come shopping. He wanted to go to the Senior Center and sing with his glee club in the afternoon. (Mind, I'm driving in early morning rush hour traffic. Even if he came shopping, and Ma took her customary sweet time shopping, he would still make the glee club with time to spare.) I would have to take Ma shopping myself. Now, it's not that I hate my mother, no matter what Freud says. It's just she is difficult, and misery loves company. I also don't like these shopping expeditions because 1). I hate grocery shopping, and 2.) they are a minimum of three hours long. Ma likes to inspect all the meat in the case. We also can't go shopping at the nice supermarket two miles from the house. I can spit from the backyard and hit the parking lot. Nope, we have to travel two towns over, 15 or 20 minutes away to a market that is always busy and crowded.

Traffic was a bit heavy at the toll booth and then again by the old brewery as they were fixing the bridge over the lake so I was about 10 minutes late. Ma promptly pointed this out to me when I walked through the door. She thought my excuse of heavy traffic was flimsy.

She announces she is ready indignant that I have kept her waiting. Dad has on his hat and jacket. "Are you coming too?" I ask. He starts muttering in tongues and gets in the back seat of the car. Guess so, and inside I am happy dancing. Yes!

We head for the store, and you guessed it in the cheap seats, she is yelling at me I'm going the wrong way. I follow my Dad's example and start speaking in tongues.

The store parking lot is crowded and all the handicap spots are filled. I pull up to the firelane to offload the Weebles. Dad is trying to herd soda cans into a plastic bag. The cans have rolled all over the cargo bay of my wagon. I marvel at the tongues Dad can speak.

I help Ma out of the car and onto the sidewalk. A handicap spot opens up across the parking lot. She pats my hand and says, "I'll be fine. You better go grab the spot before it's taken. Your father knows the routine here." That's my ticket to sit in the car and wait. I happy dance the car across the parking lot.

Waiting was fun. I don't mind waiting. I had brought a pad of paper with me so I could finish my BV fanfic story "Never Fade Away". I also had the latest Outlander book with me. I fished my pad of paper and pencil out of my bag and soon was lost in the ending of the story. About an hour and a half went by, and the story was completed. I reached for the book, and happened to look up towards the door to the market, and there's Ma on one of the handicap scooters with a store clerk and shopping cart in tow. Dad came out a short time later pushing another cart.

Butter my buns and call me a biscuit, I couldn't believe they were done in record time! The store clerk helped put the groceries in the cargo bay. I loaded Ma into the front seat of the car, Dad got in the back, and we headed home "the right way."

Dad made a nice lunch of crabmeat salad. I asked Ma if I could take some family pictures of Grandma and Auntie so I could make copies to use for another altered book. She said I could have the pictures. After lunch, I gave Dad a lift to the Senior Center, and I headed home.

Dealing with OPD is always a surprise, and sometimes it's a good one.

TBT: Reprints from CJ's Whine and Cheeze

 In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

The Wheels on the Bus

I wasn't always an Elder Bus Shuttle Pilot. I filled the position quite by accident in mid-July of this year. Literally. The Weebles had a fender bender. Fortunately, they were only shaken and not stirred, but their little green car didn't fare as well and was pronounced totaled.

Now, they can get around town using the Elder Van. You give the Elder Van 24 hours notice of where you want to go, and for $2 round trip, they will come and pick you up from your home, take you where you need to go, and take you home. When I asked Dad why he doesn't call the bus, he said, "That get's expensive!" As if the Gas Fairy comes every night to my house to top off the gas tank in my car, and the Toll Pike Fairy makes sure she leaves exact change for the tolls under the seat cushions. That's OPD.[ed: Old People's Disease] Then so that no burden is placed on me, he says "Don't worry about me. I'll walk!" That's OPD too. It's an issue of control and guilt. (-;

The first time, I drove the Elder Bus was a lesson in the control issue. Ma had a PT appointment. I had arrived early enough to make the appointment, but she decided she had to wash the kitchen floor. "I have to do this all by myself! Nobody helps me." Another part of OPD is the martyr syndrome. Ma will tell all willing and unwilling listeners how she has to do heavy work because no one else will. I sometimes think I should get her a couple of pieces of velcro. She can stick one piece on her forehead, and its partner on her wrist. Then she can raise her hand to her forehead palm out for maximum sympathy. Of course, I would be happy to help, but she has to ask, and it has to be on my schedule. I can't turn on a dime, but then it's really a control issue. (-; NASA has a 3 day window of opportunity when they schedule one of their shuttle launches. I have a 3 hour window (actually 4 with an hour available in case of doctors running late, accidents and tie ups on the Pike, etc. but keep this quiet as the Weebles don't know about this safety margin.) After she finished washing the floor, a search ensued for  her glasses, the checkbook, and the handicap parking card. My 3 hour window was closing fast. Getting Weebles out of the house is a lot like herding cats or toddlers. Just when you get one going in the right direction, the other suddenly breaks and disappears. Where are my glasses? Get my coat! Did you unplug the coffee? Finally, I got them settled in the car and buckled in. I'm on the way to the therapist's office when Ma screams, "You're going the WRONG way!" I nearly slammed on the brake and activated the air bag. "You should be going down Wilson St! WRONG WAY, WRONG WAY." Suddenly, I'm with the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. Clean cup! Clean cup! Move on down!

When heading towards the center of town, I happen to like going by way of the lights at Bacon St. I can easily make a left turn instead of trying to make the left turn against two lanes of traffic where no one yields. Yielding is not taught in the state's driver training classes. I continue along the way still being yelled at. My patience wears thin quickly. I finally pull the car over to the side of the road. "GET OUT!" I roar. There is some muttering from the front seat, a chuckle from the back. All goes quiet. I'm able to pull out into traffic, and we continue on our merry way.

At the therapist's, Ma has a captive audience. She tells everyone in the office how no one does anything for her. I introduce myself to the therapist to inform her, Ma didn't sprout wings and fly here by herself. The therapist giggles and in a conspiratorial whisper says, "I know just how it is. She sounds like my dad."

So the wheels on the bus go round and round. Tomorrow, we go grocery shopping.

TBT: Reprints From CJ's Whine and Cheeze

 In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Life Is Like A.....

A friend described her life as a casserole, layers of delicious things with surprises through them. My life is more like a brownie studded with nuts. Sometimes you enjoy the crunch, other times you break a tooth.

Dealing with the elder generation is a bit like that. Most times, it can be very sweet and pleasant. Other times, you wind up suffering the complications of OPD. Old People's Disease. My cousin coined the phrase. For example, being called to run out and buy a pair of pinking shears because "they are a good price."

How does one cope? Sit yourself down, listen to me whine, add a few cheezes, and then we'll have a good laugh.

Godzilla's Bird in the Hand

A week or so ago, my friend Andy Fish asked for my snail mail address. I thought he was sending out a promotional postcard announcing an upcoming art show he and his wife, Veronica were participating in.

Last Thursday, I was surprised when I went through the mail and found this large, flat mailer addressed to me from Andy. 

Inside the nicest note I've ever received and a tiny, twee cardinal charm. Andy said when he and Veronica saw the cardinal they thought of me.

Cardinals always make me think of my parents. They loved watching these birds at their bird feeder. After my parents passed away, I started seeing cardinals especially when I was feeling down. It never failed when I was down in the dumps, I'd see a cardinal which I took to be a message from the folks. 

Last Thursday, I was feeling very sorry for myself. Himself had gallantly shared his sinus cold with me, and I was put out that I would have to postpone the runaway weekend trip with Teague to the Berkshires. There was no time to reschedule the trip, and there was something I really wanted to do.

Inside that padded envelope, the teeny, cardinal charm. My folks again, thanks to Andy.

The charm also came with a little card:

The

Christmas Cardinal

Charm

This little cardinal brings

good luck to you.

It symbolizes the power of faith

in all that you do.

Its brilliant red color symbolizes

joy and Christmas cheer,

bringing beauty and warmth

to last throughout the year

Wishing you all the joys

of the season!

This little charm

may be carried in a pocket,

held, or placed on a shelf.

Godzilla holds my favorite pen Man pen, and so the little bird won't get lost among the tools and desk toys, Godzilla lends a hand (along with a bit of museum putty) to guard the little cardinal.

Second on the Second

From October 22, 2015 a Throwback Thursday

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time at this house. My mother's sister and her family lived here. When I was little, my grandma lived here, too. The door used to be the same brick red color.

Because Ma worked, Auntie was like another mother. During school vacations, we would ride the Green Line (subway) with Dad. We would get off the subway at Government Center (formerly Scollay Square). Dad would go to his office in Boston, and The Brother and I (or I would go by myself when I was 9 or 10) would go down the subway stairs to the Blue Line to catch a train to Maverick Square in East Boston.

Even though the Airport Station was closer (Auntie's house was one street away from Logan Airport), we were cautioned to get off at Maverick Square.  We were always told Airport Station was not safe. I suspect it was like we were told there were hobos in the woods. Maverick Square was safer as we could just walk straight down Chelsea St.  No turns and no crossing busy streets.

The door opened into a porch. On the left and up 3 steps was the door to Auntie's house. On the right, was the door that led to the two apartments upstairs. Auntie's husband grew up in this house. His sister and her husband  lived on the second floor. Uncle's mother and a mentally handicapped brother lived on the top floor. When I was little, I called Uncle's mother "The Grandma Who Lived Upstairs". I just remember a tiny, old woman with white hair. She always wore a dark colored dress and a black sweater draped across her shoulders. When The Grandma Who Lived Upstairs passed away, Uncle Peter lived with his sister on the second floor and the top floor apartment was rented out.

We'd knock on the door and waited to hear Auntie coming down the hallway. I can still hear her calling out "Who is it? I always yelled "It's ME!" and she'd reply "Who's me?" before she opened the door.

One thing I didn't like about Auntie's house was the "Buckhowsah", the bathroom, as my grandma called it. The bathroom was at the end of the long, dark hallway, before entering the main house. The bathroom wasn't heated and during the Winter, you could freeze to the seat if you weren't careful.

If the weather was nice, we'd get to play outside with The Cousins.  Take turns riding bikes or roller skating on the sidewalk, playing hopscotch, or marbles using the sewer cover as the playing field. We might get a chance to run errands. Go to the end of the block to Anna's the fruit and vegetable lady, cross the busy street at the light to go to Guy's, the neighborhood grocery store. When I was a teen, we'd go to the barber to get our hair cut by the cute barber.

Summertime, was the best time to be there. Men with trucks would come down the street selling fruit. They'd yell, "Ey waddamalone!" And then there was the man who wheeled a refrigerated pushcart. He sold Slush, a frozen lemonade which he piled into a small, pleated paper cup. On a hot Summer day, it was Heaven in the palm of your hand and all for a nickel.

When I turned 10, I got to have tea with Auntie. She'd make me a cup of tea. It was really more milk than tea with a spoonful or two of sugar in a china tea cup with matching saucer. There would be cookies, too, sometimes the store bought spice cookies shaped like Dutch windmills and Dutch boys and girls. If it was after a holiday, there would be Grandma's bow cookies drizzled in honey and Auntie's sesame seed cookies.

After work, Ma and Dad would come to pick us up. We'd stay for dinner and everyone would crowd around the table in the small kitchen. We'd have Grandma's Cappellini, home-made macaroni shaped like little hats, meatballs, sausage, and Scali bread from Blundo's Bakery to sop up the gravy.

The old folks have all passed away, but the memories and the door remain.

It's your turn to play. From Elizabeth: Now it's time to share your Second on the 2nd.  The rules are quite simple and everyone is welcome to join the fun look back.  All you have to do is bring back a post that you are especially proud of, or perhaps one you shared before anyone knew your blog existed.  Any post, any genre, any artistic endeavor is acceptable.  Join hosts Bleubeard and Elizabeth to see what else is being served up the Second Time Around.

Throwback Thursday

 

Some words of wisdom from my Grandma. She used to say that the problems you think you have are flowers compared to what other people are going through. It probably sounds a lot better in Italian.

Throwback Thursday

 

Some words of advice from Ma. "Don't borrow trouble." She meant when you were going through something try not to think about all the negative what-if scenarios. 

A Matter of Perspective

 Himself's youngest brother's wife came for a visit to pick up seeds that Himself wouldn't be using in his garden this year.

The conversation turned to her hobby which is hiking. She has been hiking portions of the Appalachian Trail. The trail stretches 2200 miles from Georgia through Maine in the Appalachian Mountains.

She told us that a few years ago, she would see lots of women hiking the trail by themselves. 

"I saw one elderly woman on the trail." she said, "She had to be at least 70. And I thought, you go, girl!"

"J, elderly? I'm 68. I'll be 69 this Summer." J is 10 years younger than I am.

"Oh, wait, she had to be at least 80"

"Good save"

The Friday Five Good Things A Day Late

 

Prissy at her 85th birthday 
12. August 2011

Five good things that happened this week.

1. I had a dream about Prissy. Probably because I was thinking of using her zucchini bread recipe. In the dream, we were going to have tea outside, but it was raining. The dream was so real. I felt as if I had been with her. I used her recipe with a couple of minor tweaks to bake 2 loaves of zucchini bread

2. Calli lets me know she wants a "cookie" (treat) by sitting in front of me and looking at me and the cabinet where the treats are kept. I gave her one of the hairball treats.  But she spit it out. Ptooey! I guess she doesn't like those treats anymore.

3. Errands and Harry’s for late lunch/dinner. I had the Coconut Shrimp and a Raspberry Lime Rickey

4. Some hefty thunderstorms rolled through. Knock wood, no damage even though there wre a couple of close lightning strikes

5. And another year around the sun

How was your week?

The Friday Five Good Things

 

Five good things that happened this week.

1.The Eldest and I had lunch at the Farmer and Fork and spent the afternoon wandering around the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill.

2. The Eldest and I binged watched Card Captor Sakura, a favorite anime when she was little.

3. Had a chat with Teague and we made tentative plans to return to Camp Newport during the first week of August.

4. Had a phone call from my cousin remembering 4th of July celebrations with the aunts and uncles at his house when we were kids. 

5. The Eldest came with us to visit the cemetery. The Fourth of July would have been my parents' 80th wedding anniversary. We stopped for lunch at the Cracker Barrel.

How was your week?

The Friday Five Good Things

 

Five good things that happened this week.

1. Enjoyed a nice thank you lunch at Point Breeze with Himself's teaching assistants

2. Himself's college roommate and his wife ran a half marathon over the weekend in Rhinebeck, NY. We met them for lunch at The 51 Park Restaurant in Lee, Massachusetts. Good food, lots of laughs

3. While driving through the Berkshires and admiring the foliage, we saw a bald eagle

4. I had a funny dream about my Ma. I was in a crowded place when I heard my name to "come over here". I saw her in her Persian lamb fur coat, but she was only 2 feet tall like a little doll. So very cute.

5. The operating system wouldn't update so had to do a reinstall and lost some accounting files. Tech support helped me get back on track.

Throwback Thursday - Casper the Ghost Doll

 

It seems like a wave of nostalgia has washed over the Blogosphere. It started with Divers and Sundry posting the song Remote Control and BioArtGal posting a back to school journal page.

The one who sent me wandering down memory lane was Andy Fish posting about his visit to The Harvey Mercheum - A Celebration of Harvey Comics.

I read some of the Harvey comics: Lil Lulu, Lil Audrey, Richie Rich, but I liked watching Baby Huey, Casper the Friendly Ghost and other cartoons on Saturday mornings. 

When I was 5 years old, I had been very ill. It wasn't measles, but I don't remember what the illness was. Maybe the flu. Just that I had a very high temperature and was in bed for a long time. 

 I remember Ma had called Dr. East, and was upset with him that he wouldn't make a house call. Dr. East said Ma could bring me to the office. It was Winter, and Ma bundled me up in my fuzzy, blue jacket that smelled of Mr. Whitaker's stinky cigars. (Mr. Whitaker was the driver that picked me up for nursery school and kindergarten.) Dad wasn't home from work yet and Ma didn't drive a car back then. She called her friend, Isabel, who lived down the street and gave Ma rides into Boston when Ma worked for the Carver Dress Company in Boston's garment district.

The doctor's instructions were to put me in a tub of lukewarm water to try to bring my temperature down along with doses of orange flavored St. Joseph Aspirin for children.

On the short ride home, I remember being very hot and the stinky cigar fumes from my coat making me feel even worse. Ma grumbled that the doctor made her bring a very sick child out in the cold when he barely did an examination and could have told her to put me in a tub of lukewarm water while she was on the phone with him. 

I must have been very ill and my parents very worried. Shortly after the visit to the doctor's office, Dad brought home a talking Casper the Ghost doll for me. This is why I know I must have been very ill. The Brother and I got toys and stuff at Christmas and our birthdays, but not at random times during the year.

I'm sure Ma would have preferred he had brought home a baby girl doll, but Casper became my favorite (even though I secretly wanted the Matty Mattel doll).

I loved Casper and lugged him around with me everywhere until his white, terry cloth body became a dingy grey. The doll I had didn't have Casper's name embroidered on his chest. Casper talked when you pulled the magic ring at the back of his neck. He made a ghostie sound, "OOooooo" and he also said, "I'll play with you." Casper fell out of bed with a loud thunk. He fell out of bed so often Ma and Dad stopped rushing in to check to see if I was alright. Casper's trips to the floor caused some of the phrases he said to run together. My Casper said "Oooo, play iwth youoooo."

Many years later I commuted to Boston University. In the mornings, my dad or Isabel's sister, Josie, who worked in Boston would give me a lift. In the afternoons, I would take the T from Kenmore Square Outbound to Longwood to catch a bus to Natick. Sometimes I would take the T inbound to Boylston and walk down Boylston St. to Park Square to catch the the Boston to Framingham bus. If I was early for the bus, I would window shop at the Boston Music Company or an antique shop next door.

One day as I walked by the antique store, in the window was a Casper doll. Just like my Casper doll. He didn't have his name emblazoned on his chest. I was very tempted to go in an ask about Casper, but a sign at Casper's feet indicated he would cost $100 to bring home. I only had enough cash in my pocket for bus fare so I walked on by.

Y'know, I've always been sorry I didn't check to see if that Casper was my Casper. One pull of the magic ring, one "Oooo, play with youooo" and I would have known for sure.

Did you have a favorite doll or toy when you were a kid?

Tea Stands for Magic at the Cemetery

The weather was so nice three days after Mother's Day and we had nothing planned so it seemed a good time to go to the cemetery to visit my folks.

Before we left, I packed Ma's giant, all-purpose scissors in my bag. Since the cemetery is near Springfield, Massachusetts, I chose an homage to Springfield's favorite son, Dr. Seuss (Ted Geissel) Himself had given me an empty soda bottle because he said when he went to visit his parents' the water in the cemetery hadn't been turned on. On the way, we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a posey of flowers.

As I was at the trunk (boot) getting ready to trim the floral stems, a couple of ladies stopped by to see what was going on. They chatted about the weather and as they watched what I was doing, one of the ladies said, "I hope you have some water, because..."

 I held up the soda bottle. "I brought my own."

"Oh, I thought that was ginger ale."

"Well, it was her beverage of choice."

They smiled, wished us a nice day, and continued on their walk

Entering the cemetery, there was a committal ceremony taking place so I couldn't take pictures. This is one of the flowering trees at the Columbarium across from the area where my folks are.

Funny to see the ginger ale bottle in the photo

Ginger ale was always on the table at any of the family functions.

Flower always brought to Ma and placed on her side of the stone. Dad would have wanted it that way, but I grabbed a couple of stems and laid them at Dad's place.

While I was walking to the grave, Himself said he saw a male cardinal fly into the copse that marks the border of this section of the cemetery. I always associate cardinals with my parents. They loved feeding and watching the birds and after my parents passed, I began seeing cardinal pairs, a male and female. Ma and Dad as my parents did everything together.

I couldn't see the cardinal, but I could hear him singing. Dad loved to sing and he had a beautiful voice. When he retired he took singing lessons from an opera singer. Dad sang in his church choir and with his Senior Center's glee club, the Goldenaires. He later became the director of the his Senior center group.

That morning as I was getting dressed, I was debating between two necklaces and chose the one with the cardinal

After the cemetery we planned on stopping for late lunch/early dinner at the Cracker Barrel, but we were chatting and laughing and Himself missed the exit. He briefly debated turning around, but he was hungry so we headed home and stopped at

The Longhorn Steakhouse at the mall.

Himself had a Coke. I had a raspberry iced tea with lemon. The waitress brought us some bread while we waited for our meal. Oh, note the strawberry shortcake on the dessert menu. I got a slice to go, but forgot to take a picture.

We started with cheesy, stuffed mushrooms

A salad. I asked for mine without nasty cheese

I had a surf and turf: Renegade steak with Prairie Dusting, grilled shrimp on a bed with rice. I didn't realize the shrimp came with rice. Otherwise, I wouldn't have ordered the baked sweet potato. No matter lots of food leftover and no cooking the following day.

Drop by hosts, Bleubeard and Elizabeth’s blog to find out what the rest of the T gang is up to. If you want to play, include a beverage or beverage container in your post. Don’t forget to link your blog from Bleubeard and Elizabeth’s page.

The Friday Five Good Things

 

Five good things that happened this week.

1.  No more drive by fish fry so we went to Uno's for deep dish pizza

2. Himself found a Mother's Day card from the kitties which he addressed to Mama mama mama because that's how Calli calls me in the morning when she wants to be fed. 😸

3. The Eldest sent a gorgeous orchid to me for Mother's Day. It's pet friendly and supposedly easy to care for.

4. Beautiful weather so we took a trip to the cemetery to visit my folks.

5. Moved the television out to the sunroom. The sunroom is now open for the season.

How was your week?

Throwback Thursday - Repeat

 

From May 5, 1016:

When The Brother lived in Harriman, New York, a small town in the foothills of the Catskills, Ma, Dad, and I took a trip to visit. The Brother took us to see the United States Military Academy at West Point. We walked around the beautiful campus. Got to see a bridal party posing for pictures at the chapel.

Here's a picture I took of Dad with his four year old grandson in front of the decapitated statue of General George Patton.

After leaving West Point, I couldn't find my beloved, Bollé, aviator sun glasses. It wasn't until several years later while going through photographs, I found where I had left them.

Little Bitty Tear

 

A journal page, when feeling sad. It took me a little bit to remember the date. The 8th anniversary of Ma's passing. And then the shock to realize how long it's been and how fast time has moved on.

The lyrics are from a song sung by Burl Ives:

"A little bitty tear let me down

Spoiled my act as a clown

I had it made up not to make a frown

But a little bitty tear let me down

Sharpie pen, watercolor pencil, pearl bead

The Friday Five Good Things

 Five good things that happened this week.

1. Had a nice long chat about dealing with Weebles (elderly parents) with my cousin on the heart from Portland, OR

2. The new clock with the moon phases arrived.

3. Had a nice long chat with my friend, Red

4.  Finished the Celebration of Life invitation

5. After Himself's doctor's visit we stopped at Uno's for deep dish pizza.

How was your week?