Lists

I'm a list person. I have lists for everything from groceries to life goals and all the things in between. These lists often get broken down into steps and with any luck actually get onto the calendar and happen more than just on paper.
As I've gotten older, the lists get duplicated because I can't find the original so what's a girl to do but write it again. It always makes me chuckle when i find the original later. "Ah, that's where I put it." There are so many lists that i need to search things before I pass them on. Any book that i loan or give away must be looked through to remove lists tucked between it's pages. Purses, gracious! They hold tons of lists, my wallet, pockets before laundry. They are everywhere. Do I do everything on the lists? No. I don't think that's the point of the lists. It's more to organize my thoughts. Keep track of things. Even to brainstorm things. Lists calm me down. Let me see the order, the steps, the breakdown, feel it can all get done. Lists; something my momma taught me and I passed on to at least one of my children.

11 Years!

It has been a LONG time since I have written. So much has happened and yet much is still the same. Life, right? I've been thinking about starting this up again. I think I miss the process of documenting. Maybe I will start again. Maybe this is me starting again. Let's see.
They say that one should write everyday, even just a little to get in the habit and get better at it.  They say that about reading, cooking, exercising, baking, sewing, crocheting and just about everything else. And then they say to sleep 8 hours. Do they realize, we aren't all independently wealthy and have to you know work for the man for a living to be able to do a few of those other things on any type of regular basis? There never seem to be enough hours for it all. Let's see what rhythm I can get into.
There are also places to go and things to do and people to see. And don't forget those roses that we have to stop and smell.
My husband always shakes his head at me complaining that I want to do it all and can't. I need to pick and choose. I'm not convinced. I think it can all get done just not at the same time. The picking and choosing is about when and how not what. So let's see if I get back into blogging and documenting some of these things I am choosing to do in all this free time. Let's see.
The new year is just around the corner. My calendar isn't very blank. Let's see.

Good-Bye

I recently learned the creator of the comic strip Family Circus, Bill Keane, passed away last week at the age of 89.
I love Family Circus. My favorites were the ghosts, Ida Know and Not Me who were always blamed for the children's mischief. Rest in Peace, Bill Keane. I appreciated you humor for many many years. Thank you.

A girl!

My brother who lives in Chicago called to tell me they weren't planning any big vacations next year and was wondering if I would take care of my niece for a week so she could have a mini-vacation over the summer. Would I think about it?
Answer: YES! OF COURSE! WHEN?! I'D LOVE TO! OMG! Imagine me with a little girl for a week! Oh, the excitement!

It doesn't take a rocket scientist

We lovingly call MIL "the FBI" because she finds everything out. One of my son's friends calls his mother "CSI" because she analyzes and questions the slightest things. I think these kids just think we are dumb.

When I'm gone for a weekend leaving a college age child home alone, I know there will be a party and it doesn't take the FBI or CSI to figure it out when you get home. Let's see the trash was taken out to the curb for pick. Maybe because they didn't want me to see all the garbage? But they are not full grown adults yet and so the beer caps in the kitchen can under the trash bag are a give away as are the shards of broken glass under the sofa stuck to the floor and the vacuum cleaner that no longer sucks up anything because its full of glass and chips or maybe the picture frame that doesn't stand anymore because when they put it back together they put it upside down and the back keeps falling off. Why did they have to put it back together to begin with I don't want to know. Apparently, everyone is safe and sound because I am thinking I would have heard otherwise.

There's another weekend away planned. I hope the house and my stuff survive.

Diner Dinner

After walking around and assessing all the variety of food options our stomachs forced us to make a selection at 10pm. We chose The Brooklyn Diner because well, it's so not Miami and it seemed fitting as our 1 meal in The City. The tux clad maitre d' seated us and gave us menus that boast the Best Burger Platter in the city. The couple speaking Portuguese next to us is enjoying a great looking NY style pizza pie. The two men we past on the way in speaking Italian are enjoying a lovely NY strip steak, baked potatoes and green beans as they discuss home politics, the 2 all-American tweenage boys a few tables down are finishing off their cream sodas as they pull out stacks of $20s and try to calculate the appropriate tip. They decide to leave $60. I can only wonder what they ate or is it they can't do the math. We smile at each other as we hear Spanish being spoken by the 2 men busing the tables around us. We watch as the sidewalk fills in with the after show crowd and a few come in dressed to the nines and order a good bottle of red. As we sink out teeth into the Best Burgers in town an elderly couple sits a few tables down from us. In their thick Long Island accents they argue about what to eat at this hour. She wants a breakfast platter he wants a dinner platter. He insists this is no time to be eating breakfast fluff, she needs real food. She defends her decision in that if they serve it then the timing must be right. He ends up with Spaghetti and Meatballs after futile attempts to order the pot pie and a few other selections that they were out of. She says it will keep him up the rest of the night but she caves to his no breakfast for dinner pressure and orders a Salmon burger but says she won't eat the bread. Our waiter chatted with us and turns out he's from Florida! from Boca Raton in NYC going to school. He misses Florida even though he never thought he would and says he will be back in a couple of years when he's done there. You take it for granted when you have it but you miss it when its gone. He's learned the lesson young. Good for him. The burgers were indeed some of the finest we've had. Perfectly cooked his well done and mine rare. Yes, we are a couple. The pickle quite frankly was delicious. I haven't had such a good pickle in a very long time. We bundled back up and headed out to walk to the garage where we left our car and while in line we overheard some show reviews. It was a great way to spend an evening. I love people watching.

The overheard from strangers while in line reviews:
The Bonnie and Clyde show is way way too long. The songs are good, catchy even, the performances string but the show just too long. It needs to be cut by at least 20 minutes.
The Adams Family was superb. Everyone in the world should see it.
The Anniversary performance of the NY Workers Union is not for everyone. It can only be appreciated by those who were there and understand its roots.

Where was I?

Entire city blocks wall to wall with people rushing here and there. The few, like moi, not rushing are bumping into the speed walkers because we are looking up and around and through camera lenses. We stop in the middle of moving people traffic to snap the memory forever in our minds. You hear car traffic and horns and the voices of so many people. The hum of their conversations, so many languages, only catching snippets here and there. "Will you take our picture?" being the one heard most often. You stop and focus on the happy people and try to make them the center of the chaos that is around them in flashing neon lights that seemingly adds to the volume of the square.

It all seems so foreign and yet familiar at the same time. I recognize these labels and ads seen in my everyday life but here they are super-sized as if on steroids and in stereo.

Answer: Times Square, NYC

REmembering

I have been watching my son get around on crutches for weeks now. He broke his foot in September and had surgery to put 2 screws in and has been crutching around ever since. He's been such a good trooper. Hasn't missed a thing. He's gone to all his classes, all his frat meetings, all his school events and all his family happenings. He only missed things on the day of and the day after the surgery. I know he's tired of asking for help and rides and having to coordinate things and depend on other people and I hope that he will be good as new soon. Next week he goes back to the surgeon and hopefully gets a boot and will be allowed to start putting some weight on his foot.

It made me remember when I started high school with 2, yes two, sprained ankles. I would alternate which foot I would rest as I crutched around school too. I know what he's going through. Pobrecito.

PS. I know to crutch is not a verb but we've turned it into one at home. It really makes sense as a verb to me. So, just move on people. Let it go.