Where Your Heart Is

I was born in a hospital in Wheaton, Maryland, just outside the city of Silver Spring. I spent nearly a year in that fair city before moving to Greensburg, Pennsylvania. About three and a half years later, we moved back to Maryland to a neighborhood just outside of Annapolis, where we stayed for almost four years. Then it was off to Folsom, California, for a few years and back to Pennsylvania.

Why does the history of my moves matter in my mind? Because I have always considered myself a "Marylander"....even though I spent less than five years of my entire life there.

When we cross through it on our way to and from Nags Head, N.C., each year I feel a sense of kinship and warmth that fills my soul. Odd really, for someone who spent a fraction of her life in such a place. But I will be a Baltimore Orioles fan until I die. And I will always smile in camaraderie when I hear of someone else who was born there.

It's funny because I felt the same way about England...and I spent an even smaller portion of my life there.

When we went to visit Scotland, I felt myself sighing with relief when we crossed the border back into England on the train. It wasn't that I didn't like Scotland -- it was a gorgeous place filled with quite a lot of my heritage. But I guess I'd adopted England in my heart as my "home" at the time. I felt myself becoming like a sponge, trying to soak up as much of the history and customs of the country as I could.

And pending the fact that some of my ancestry hailed from England, there's a certain kindred-spiritedness in all the famous writers England has "birthed" merely because of the aura of the place.

I discovered the poem below in my AP English class in 11th grade. My teacher was a huge fan of England. She had the first sentence on a bulletin board at the back of her classroom. I liked the poem very much the first time I read it, but it became much more poignant after my teacher passed away from cancer mid-year. We didn't even know she was sick...though she knew she was dying. It had been her dream to visit that fair country someday.

I took my first trip to England with Teen Missions the summer after she died. I thought of her a lot while I was there. I thought of her even more when I moved there a year and a half later.

This poem became my mantra while I was there. I guess, like the saying goes, "home" isn't necessarily where you live or were born...it's where your heart is.

The Soldier

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

~Rupert Brooke, 1914

Pussycat, Pussycat, Where Have You Been?

* * *

"Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?

I've been to London to visit the Queen.

Pussycat, pussycat, what have you there?

I frightened the little mouse under the chair."

* * *

Abigail, our 10-year-old Maine Coon cat, spent the morning at the "beauty parlor" getting a "lion cut." She'd become very matted and wasn't very patient about being combed out.

Here are before and after photos:

We've since ditched the cute, little, yellow-with-autumn-leaf bows. The dog was pestering her, trying to get a better look. (I think inwardly he was snickering at her. His day will come.)

So....

"Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I've been to the groomer...see what I mean?
Pussycat, pussycat, what have you there?
I've had all my hair cut off and look like Fuzzy-Wuzzy-Bear."

To Coin a Phrase

I love to "coin" new words and phrases. (A process called neologism.) I remember when I first learned about that expression. I wasn't sure what it meant, but it's gives a very vivid picture now.

Words like:
blog -- used as a noun or verb -- as in, short for weblog, or the act of writing an entry in a weblog
library -- used as a verb -- as in, "We're librarying today. Would you like to join us?"
porch -- used as a verb -- as in, "Let's porch tonight. We'll bring the games; you have the snacks."
donuthole -- used as a noun -- as in, "He is such a donuthole (has a head that soft and squooshy with a hole in the middle)."
sunsetty -- used as an adjective -- as in, "More sunsetty goodness..." (See TV Guy.)
cubemunity -- used as a noun -- as in, see Squid on the Grill.
idle grass -- used as an expression -- as in, "I digress."
text -- used as a verb -- as in, send a text message via your cellphone
prairie dog -- used as a verb -- as in, pop your head above your cubicle wall to see what's going on; see also, being nosy.

I have a British friend who works for the company that produces the Oxford English Dictionary. Her job is to check usage to see how a word is evolving. Has it been accepted? Is it still used? How is it used? She uses that information to decide what the ranking of the word will be: archaic, obsolete, slang, etc.

In all truthiness, that would be a brillig job for me...to coin a phrase! D'oh!

Check out these other fun sites for more "coined words/phrases":
Jabberwocky
Sniglets
More Sniglets

You've (Not) Got a Friend in...Jack

You've got a friend in me?

Okay, so I just finished watching Season 4 of 24 again...and I've come to several conclusions: If Jack Bauer promises to get you help, do NOT believe him -- try to find a way to dial 911 for yourself -- and I'm very happy I live on the East Coast, over 3,000 miles away from Jack Bauer.

Don't get me wrong. I know he's a hero and saves lots of people and all, but if you aren't on his Top 5 List, you're toast. He's more interested in saving the millions than little ol' you...especially if you have information pertinent to his investigation.

It makes me wonder if you'd really want him on your side....but then I wouldn't want to be enemies with him either. So any way you look at it, I'm VERY GLAD to live so far away from him.

Yeah, yeah, I know. It's all determined by a script. But sometimes you think about heroic people out in the "real world" and wonder, if push comes to shove, will they really save you?

...Especially if you have the necessary jumpdrive in your jeans pocket to download information on finding the bad guy in the next 60 minutes thus saving the world from a nuclear holocaust....

Run away! Run away VERY fast...and remember to duck or wear your bulletproof vest.

Still Still Still More from Hell-ish Kitchens

Thinking about all this running away from Jack Bauer got me feeling hungry, and somehow this little beauty of a recipe made its way into my computer inbox. I've not made it before but, judging by the ingredients, I'd say it sounds yummy!

Enjoy!



Chocolate Orange Blossom Delicacies

Estimated Times: Preparation - 20 min Cooking - 45 min - Yields - 40 bars

Ingredients
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
1 cup (2 sticks) cold butter
1 large egg, beaten
1 1/2 cups orange marmalade
1 cup (6 oz.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Premier White Morsels
1 cup (6 oz.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

Directions: PREHEAT oven to 350° F. Grease 13 x 9-inch baking pan. COMBINE flour, sugar and walnuts in large bowl. Cut in butter and egg with pastry blender, or two knives, until mixture is crumbly. Reserve 1 1/2 cups of the crumb mixture. Press remaining crumb mixture into prepared pan. Spread marmalade evenly over crumb mixture in pan, leaving 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle white morsels and semi-sweet morsels evenly over the marmalade. Sprinkle reserved crumb mixture evenly over the morsels. BAKE for 45 to 50 minutes or until top is light brown. Cool completely in pan on wire rack. Cut into bars.

Welcome Break!

I spent Friday evening with a dear friend and fellow homeschooling mom (Aduladi'), having a very welcome, much-needed "mom-teacher" break. We decided to dig out some of the ol' favorites movie-wise and share them with each other.

So she brought one of her favorite Esai Morales movies, La Bamba, and I picked one of my favorite Kiefer Sutherland movies, Flatliners, and we sat with a table full of snacks and enjoyed some of our past with two of our favorite actors.

What's fun about watching older movies is the memories that they conjure up. Maybe they weren't the best movies in terms of production or continuity, but they have "history" in them. They encompass a certain time in our lives and perserve that in a big-screen form. The "remember-whens" and fashions and lingo of a time gone by. Sharing that with each other makes it even more poignant.

The movies ended, and we chatted on into the night. By the time my hubby got home from the "movie-night exchange" (he went to watch "guy" movies with her hubby), we didn't even realize the time was nearly 1 a.m. Amazingly, we didn't even feel tired.

Movies and memories....a much-needed and very-welcome break!

(Thanks, Angel!)

Solace-Powered

Today's word of the day:

solace \SOL-is\, noun: 1. Comfort in time of grief; alleviation of grief or anxiety. 2. That which relieves in distress; that which cheers or consoles; a source of relief.

transitive verb: 1. To comfort or cheer in grief or affliction; to console. 2. To allay; to soothe; as, "to solace grief."

Surrounded by unhappiness at home, John Sr. early on found solace and certainty in the realm of science and technology.-- Sylvia Nasar, A Beautiful Mind

Lillian's Lutheranism, with its harsh creed that suffering was a sign of God's favor, solaced her.-- Lois W. Banner, Finding Fran

Solace comes from Latin solacium, from solari, "to comfort; to console."

***

Well, that sums it up for me. Tuesday was a day of infamy here at our house. A day of much-needed solace. It was the day that all of us (excluding Stuart) had our dental appointments.

I don't know about you, but I can't stand going to the dentist. In fact, I hate going to the dentist. There's nothing fun about paying $80+ to have your teeth pushed, prodded, and scraped. I know, I know. The alternative is to borrow George Washington's "wooden" smile for awhile. I don't know...perhaps it would be worth it?

Okay, so this particular visit was "infamous" for two reasons. I'd managed to push off my whole-mouth X-rays with a "fiblette" about possibly being pregnant last time (well, there was a possibility), and it was Edward's first official time having his teeth cleaned and examined.

No problemo, right?

Do you ever wonder why the hygentist insists on chatting and asking questions while she has three instruments and a spit-sucker in your mouth? And where are you supposed to put your tongue?? My tongue feels so confused during a dental cleaning because it always seems to be in the way. And why, when you open your mouth bigger for them to get the 563+ cleaning tools in, do your lips get smaller? Perplexing, really.

Well, the full-mouth X-rays were horrific. (I love that word!) Besides digging into my already-sore mouth (darn hormones!), they kept triggering my gag-reflex (darn hormones!). And there were about 15 of them.

But first came Edward's own time in the chair...

Emily has always been our social butterfly, floating into any social scene and settling herself happily. Edward is the antithesis of "social" -- though not in a mean way. He just doesn't do well in new, social settings...and the dentist's office was no exception.

I'm a bad parent....a very bad parent. Remember all the things you declared you'd NEVER do when you had kids before you had 'em? Okay, okay. So after threatening bodily harm to his cushy tushy if he didn't behave, I realized that might not be the right approach for my little shy guy....so I...

....bribed him. For a $1.97-plus-tax Matchbox helicopter, I got my 5-year-old to sit and have his teeth cleaned and counted. In fact, by the end of my time-in-the-chair which followed his, he was getting rather obnoxious with friendliness.

Call it solace.

Now where was mine?

I'm Lovin' It!

***

In the wake of the new season of Fall shows, we remember....

only FOUR, count 'em, FOUR more months!!!!!

And, in the meantime, I'd love one of these!

(Do you think it includes a Jack Bauer? Or is he sold separately?)

Have Bunny, Will Travel

Anyone who has known me for awhile will know that I'm "rabbit-mad." Not that I'm not crazy about other stuff. We have six Himilayan Dwarf rabbits at the moment. Bonny and Clyde are the parents of two sets of twins: Bubble and Squeak; and Earl Grey and Clementine.

I've been raising rabbits since I was 11 and have always had at least one "sweet bun" around.

Lately, I've been stuck in a memory of my favorite little bunny, Peepers. She was my well-traveled, very spoiled, well-loved British bunny. I had her for about 5.5 years. I always joked that she needed an odometer on her because she traveled at least 5,000 miles in her lifetime, much of it in a straw African bag while aboard a train...not sure what British Rail's policy was for bunny ticketing.

One particular story that I recounted to someone recently was a trip I made through London at rush hour on a Friday.

I was trying to get back to Swindon from Brighton (see this: British Rail Map). I had a small animal carrier, a laptop computer, and a small piece of luggage....and I went from Brighton to Victoria Station through the London Underground to Paddington Station and then on to Swindon. Inside the pet carrier was Peepers, my ever-trusting, ever-faithful rabbit, and Hobnob, a little Russian Dwarf hamster in her own little crate.

All was going well, until I realized I was traveling at rush hour with three "bags," so to speak, and I was getting on a commuter train to Swindon where it was standing room only.

I ended up standing the entire way to Swindon in the bathroom. My crate and bags stacked between my legs. I don't remember how I got to my parents' house from the Swindon trainstation. The smells of the journey had numbed my mind.

And it was a harrowing journey, to say the least.

But one I'll never forget.

Birthday Facts

Birthday Calculator -- Try it!

A friend sent me the above website to try out. It's a fun way of learning about the little chunk of time around the time you were born. Have a go!

My birthday facts (my comments are in parenthesis and italics):

15 October 1970

Your date of conception was on or about 22 January 1970 which was a Thursday. You were born on a Thursday. The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2440874.5. The year 1970 was not a leap year. Your birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 2/6/1970 and ending 1/26/1971. You were born in the Chinese year of the Dog.

As of 9/14/2006 6:55:27 PM EDT: You are 35 years old. (And as if I don't feel old enough...)
You are 431 months old.
You are 1,874 weeks old.
You are 13,118 days old.
You are 314,850 hours old.
You are 18,891,055 minutes old.
You are 1,133,463,327 seconds old.

Celebrities who share your birthday:
Vanessa Marcil (1969)
Sarah Ferguson (1959)
Emeril Lagasse (1959)
Richard Carpenter (1946)
Jim Palmer (1945)
Penny Marshall (1942)
Linda Lavin (1937)
Lee Iacocca (1924)
Mario Puzo (1920)
Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. (1917)
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908)

Top songs of 1970:
Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon & Garfunkel
I'll Be There by Jackson Five
Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head by B.J. Thomas
Close to You by Carpenters
My Sweet Lord by George Harrison
I Think I Love You by Partridge Family
Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Diana Ross
American Woman by Guess Who
War by Edwin Starr
Let It Be by Beatles

Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 5.13424657534247 years old. (You're still chasing cats!) (Wooo-Hooo!)

There are 31 days till your next birthday on which your cake will have 36 candles (or 2...a "3" and a "6"). Those 36 candles produce 36 BTUs, or 9,072 calories of heat (that's only 9.0720 food calories!). You can boil 4.11 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In 1970, there were approximately 3.7 million births in the U.S. In 1970, the U.S. population was approximately 203,302,031 people, 57.4 persons per square mile. In 1970, in the U.S. there were approximately 2,158,802 marriages (10.6%) and 708,000 divorces (3.5%). In 1970, in the U.S. there were approximately 1,921,000 deaths (9.5 per 1000)

Your birth tree is Maple, which symbolizes "Independence of Mind." Personality traits: No ordinary person, full imagination and originality, shy and reserved, ambitious, proud, self-respect, hungers for new experiences, sometimes nervous, many complexes, good memory, learns easily, complicated love life, wants to impress.

The moon's phase on the day you were born was full. (That explains A LOT.)

On Aging...

So I had to revisit an earlier blog entry to see when I last dyed my hair....the silver highlights were becoming more noticable, and I wondered if it was getting to be time. And I guess it was....

I bought another two boxes of hair dye (my hair is getting too long for one box), but I was loathe to try it because it always takes so long....and I'd chosen a lighter shade this time. I was concerned...Will I appear to have the soft, subtle "dark ash blonde" of the model on the box...or will my hair end up red? Always a quandry.

See, guys don't have this problem. They go gray and deal with it. They think, "Am I getting older? Oh, well." Women...we just want to preserve some of our youthfulness by keeping our original haircolor. I've seen women in their 80s with sagging faces and baggy eyes, but hair the color they were born with.

In a recent chat with another blogger (see Had It All), we both concluded that even though we're only in our mid-thirties...we're still looked on as being "older," or or even (eek!) "aging." Now, if a child of under-10 said that, I'd understand. Anyone above 15 is old to them. But she was told by her own doctor that "at her age" she could expect.... What??!?

Anyway, I decided to "take the plunge," so to speak, and I dyed my hair before our trip to New York City last Saturday. (I know, I know....risky. But I figured I could always re-dye it if necessary. I had to do that last year when I made an orange patchwork quilt in my hair from trying to add blonde streaks...) It worked out in the end and actually looked fairly good...until we sat in traffic for 1.5 hours and then had to wait another 2.5 hours for the movie. (I'd used my spiral curling iron to make lots of long curls and had it down -- pulled back by my sunglasses -- which is a rarity for me since it usually drives me crazy within seconds. But by the time we met Kiefer Sutherland, I'd reached "crazy" and pulled it up. Oh, well. So much for glamorous!)

At least I'm "highlight-free"...for now.

The City That Never Sleeps

So we traveled to New York City last Saturday (see this for the reason)...

We headed up to Rt. 78 and took it clear across Pennsylvania into New Jersey to the N.J. turnpike, which took us to the...New York City skyline and...the Holland Tunnel.

(Okay, this wasn't my first time going to New York -- not that I go there very often -- but I still felt excited at the idea of going to such a big, famous city. (I loved living close to London for the same reason.) I think Stuart did, too. I always belt out the "New York, New York" song.)

But at this point in our journey, we ceased to be "excited" and began to feel annoyed when we started to crawl. I'm serious. A baby could have crawled faster than our car was moving. And if we didn't glue our bumper to the bumper of the car in front of us, four cars would try to cut in. We saw tons of people who obviously failed the kindergarten lessons on "following directions" and "waiting their turn."

After nearly an hour and a half of crawling through about 5 blocks, we saw the problem: 7 lanes merging into 2. Yikes! We did manage to finally get to the toll booth and through the tunnel. Now came the fun of navigating through Brooklyn to East Village and the cinema, using our trusty Mapquest directions. (Where's Chloe from 24 when you need her? I would have loved to have her download directions to my PDA...of course, I'd need a PDA first.)

Actually, we didn't have any problems. (Stuart is a seasoned New York driver, having had to go there on various occasions with his job.) We headed up East Houston (pronounced "house-ton" -- yes, well, we have a Greenwich Street in Reading, pronounce "green-wich") Street, and there it was: Landmark's Sunshine Cinema.

(I felt my stomach lurch. Would we actually meet Kiefer??)

We parked about two blocks past the theatre and walked back. I felt more and more like a "country mouse." I love cities. I love the smells from all the different restaurants and cafes. I love the noise of the cars and people. I love the architecture -- some of which you only notice if you look up. But I have to say it's very easy to be over-stimulated by it all and feel a bit out of your element. I'd been looking forward to this moment for several weeks, and now it was finally here. And all I really needed and wanted was....a bathroom! LOL!

The theatre was really cool inside. There were three levels, with a cafe setup on the third level, overlooking the street and the cinema's sign. We got an iced latte, a dark chocolate Toblerone, and gourmet popcorn. Not your traditional cinema snacks.

But, wowzers! Doesn't anyone in New York ever sleep?? We came out of our 10 p.m. movie around midnight and the streets were more crowded than when we'd first arrived around 7:30 p.m.

Amazing!

We navigated out of the city, enjoying the sounds and sights of the NYC nightlife, and got home around 3:30 a.m., thoroughly exhausted, yet exhilarated from having actually met -- really touched and talked to, live in-person -- a favorite actor.

* * *

We're still pinching ourselves...

Birthday Blessings

A Happy Birthday Song for You!

To my hubby on the day he was born:

September 11th 1970

Happy happy happy birthday to you!

When we met, we were 18 years old...the "geek" and the "snob."

And I never imagined that 18 years later,

we'd be married for 10 years with two sweet kids

...and still so much in love!

I love all the memories we've made together!

I love all the fun we've had together!

Thank you for asking...I'd still say "YES!"

Enjoy YOUR special day!

You're so very special to Emily, Edward, and me!

9.11

It's hard to believe that it's the 5-year anniversary.

"Where were you when it happened?"

I remember asking my mom and dad that question about President Kennedy's assassination. It was a major news event that we learned about in school. Of course, it happened a few years before I was born, so I didn't have the personal experience of having gone through it. But my parents did. It was a horrific event, they said. One that shocked a nation. One that brought a nation together in tears. My mom had been shopping with her grandmother. She heard the news on the car radio and started to cry. She said it was a memory that never left you.

Isn't that what happened to our nation 5 years ago today? An awful moment in our nation's history, but one that brought everyone together in tears...and in camaraderie. Sometimes, sadly, it takes a tragedy to bring people together.

We visited New York City yesterday. I told Stuart I found it ironic that we'd be going there on the anniversary weekend. I hadn't been back to visit the city since December 2000 when we stood across the river from the New York skyline and pointed to the Twin Towers. We told Emily, then 3, that we'd be back next Christmas with her new sibling. And we'd go visit those Twin Towers together. "Bye-Bye, Twin Towers. See you next year," she said.

Of course, the rest is now recorded in the history books.

We didn't get to visit those towers the following year. But we did watch as they crumbled to the ground, deliberately destroyed by terrorists using planes as missiles. We did cry with others at the thought of all those innocent people killed for an evil "cause." We did hang our flag with a renewed sense of patriotism that said, "United we stand!!"

I was in my livingroom, listening to the radio. I heard about the first plane and turned on the television. I called Stuart to let him know that somebody had accidentally flown into one of the Twin Towers. Midway through my message, I went completely silent and began to babble as I witnessed the second plane flying into the other tower. It was a slow-motion movie in my mind. A joke...definitely not a reality. I sank to my knees and realized that it wasn't an accident; nor were the rest of the terrible events that continued throughout the morning.

3-year-old Emily's drawing of the World Trade Center

The memory burns bright in our hearts for all those affected by the happenings on that day. You're still in our prayers!

* * *

Where were you when it happened?

Start Spreading the News...

"...I'm leaving today! I want to be a part of it...New York, New York!"

Well, we're back from our trip to New York City. What "country mice" we are! We left the city -- and the sounds of people and cars and horns -- at 12:30 a.m. It was just as alive as when we arrived earlier in the evening. We returned home to W. City with a few cars on the road and the sound of crickets. Amazing!

The reason for our trip? To see a movie about an Indie rock band's -- Rocco Deluca and the Burden -- premier tour in Europe. Since the movie had a very limited release in a select few cities, we were very interested when we saw it would be shown in New York -- a mere 2.5 hours from us... LOL! It took us over 3.5 due to horrendous traffic around the Holland Tunnel. Oh, well. We made it, with 2.5 hours to spare. Our show wasn't until 10 p.m.

The movie, a rockumentary called I Trust You to Kill Me (the name of the band's first album), was excellent! The band is actually very good. I'm not particularly fond of rock music, per se, but they have a very unique sound, and the lead, Rocco Deluca, is phenomenal on the guitar. That said, each of the band's members is very good at what he does. What struck us is that they aren't worried about image. It's all about the music. It was humorous to watch them learn the ropes of touring.

The clincher? Their manager for this first tour was none other than Kiefer Sutherland. (He has since been "let go.") And, okay, he was probably the draw for me -- and lots of others -- to this band in the first place. But both Stuart and I found ourselves wanting to buy the album by the end of the movie.

So it was a wonderful adventure to the Big Apple to see a good movie.

And....


(Clicking on the photos makes them larger.)

...to get a photo or two of Kiefer Sutherland in person, including one with his arm around me. And get his autograph on the insert to my 24 -- Season One DVD set. (Yes, I was shaking after the whole thing!!) He and the director of the movie were there for a Q & A after the 7:45 p.m. showing. We caught him on his way in since we didn't have tickets to that show. And, WOW! I was feeling very shy...but Stuart wasn't about to let him get by without saying "hi" and asking for a photo and an autograph. (Have I mentioned how much I love my hubby??) Kiefer was very polite, very friendly, and very accommodating.

So an added bonus to a wonderful adventure to the Big Apple to see a good movie...and a very nice actor!

More another day on our trip and the theatre...I'm pooped.

Home Again...Home Again...Jiggety Jig

My mom has a saying posted on her refrigerator: "If I rest, I rust."

Well, after only two days of sunshine on the beach, I'm guessing my idea of getting a golden tan was finally dashed. We left yesterday around lunchtime, deciding we'd be more likely to "rust" than enjoy some extra time on the beach in the rain.

Nevermind. There's always next year. And we had fun, despite it. And that's what's really important, right?

So now we're in the process of unpacking from our vacation...a feat unto itself.

On another note, Stuart and I head to New York City tonight to view a movie. Yeah, yeah, I know, a fairly long drive just to see a movie. But this movie is only being offered at three venues (New York, San Francisco, and Los Angeles) for a limited screening...and there's a chance of seeing one of the "stars"....

More on that tomorrow....

More on Tanning...

When I was younger I was the "queen" of sun. My sister used to say that if anyone even mentioned the word "sunshine" I would turn tan. It seemed like such an easy task then. But then I didn't care an iota about turning brown. It was just my "summer color."

So I'm still at it.

We have one more day here at the beach, and I'm determined to go home a different shade of brown than I started with. So far I've got a bit of a tan on my arms and legs and something similar to a cooked lobster's tail on my shoulders.

Back in my glorious tan days, who would have thought it would take so much work to get just that much??

I was thinking to myself this afternoon as I toasted: at what point in my life did I decide I actually wanted to get a tan? Because that would be the moment it ceased to be so easy.

You know, as a kid you were running around, playing outside in the grass or wading pool. You were too busy to realize you were getting a "healthy glow" that rivaled a Malibu Barbie doll's.

Oh, for days gone by...

Until then, I'll have take the slow, boring route to golden brown.

On Getting a Tan...

Okay, so I'm sitting outside in the sun, trying to get a tan. (Isn't that one of the points of going to the beach?)

5 minutes....I'm sweating. Am I tan yet? My book is okay -- not great, but interesting enough. 10 minutes. I feel like my skin is sizzling. No change. I'm humming the song to Jeopardy. 25 minutes. I think I'm going to pass out from the heat. How fun is this??

Not very.

Vanity....vanity.

An aside: When I was in high school, I tried to "lay out" in the sun -- to turn a golden shade of brown and put blonde highlights in my hair. Remember the baby oil and lemon juice regiment? I usually lasted about 12.2 minutes....

30 minutes...this is really boring. (Did I mention that already?) My eyes are blurring. 40 minutes. The kids are looking kind of red. Maybe we should go inside... Move a strap. Tan yet? 45 minutes. I'm parched.

Okay...okay.... Enough is enough. And I've had enough. Being tan isn't worth it. I'll stick with "library pallor"...

...for now.

Afterall, beauty isn't without its pains. And we are at the beach.

Ready? Set? Drive!

Everyone has a stomping grounds of sorts, right? I have many, many. Not that I mind. But sometimes the memories all merge together in my head.

Well, we're off on our holiday trip to Nags Head, N.C. (If I ever get my scanner working again, I'll scan the photo of my first trip there when I was 3. Or maybe not. I forgot...I'm topless.)

One thing I enjoy about visiting places (new or old) is seeing different "stomping grounds" since it must be that sort of thing for some local folks.

We took a trip around Europe and I was more interested in seeing everyday life (Stuart thought that was another way of saying: shopping) than in seeing the sights and history. Mind you, I love history...but I can read about that. I cannot read about everyday life and really get the jist of it. You know, the smells, the sounds...seeing people going about their normal routines...like walking the kids to school, or driving to work, or doing the weekly grocery shopping.

So...get ready, get set, drive. Vacation time! And time to see "everyday life" in someone else's stomping ground.

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

Emily, between ages 1 and 3, and her hats.




It's a cold, wet, rainy day here today -- Ernesto's "Last Stand," I think.

Not much to blog about...and not much time to do it anyway, since I'm packing for our vacation to the beach.

I was perusing the photos on my computer, looking for some with the kids in their wellies. (Goes with a rainy day, right?) Well, I gave up after I realized I've got about a gazillion photos saved on my hard-drive.

Instead, I opted for several of Emily, our "hat-girl." She used to love hats! In fact, a friend of ours gave her a book for Christmas one year called The Hat because she knew how much she loved them.

I loved her inscription on the inside of the front cover: "For Emily, a girl who always wears a hat with such panache."