‘Tis a grand thing. Top ‘o the morning, Erin go bragh! La brea ata ann! (That means it’s a lovely day in gaelic!)

I am celebrating with Mr. Dewars, though Mr. Guinness would be a better companion perhaps. The fed-x man just delivered the news. I am now an Irish citizen!!!!

It took over a year and a half of digging through the archives, trips to the Massachusetts Geneological Center, and a trip to the old sod with my sweet cousin Kathy – but the deed is done. I now have my my citizen certificate and I am now a citizen of Ireland through foreign birth, a daughter of the gaelic isle. Tra la and Tipperary!!!

I tip a sip to my parents, Vivian and Michael and to my grandparents on my Dad’s side – John T. and the infamous Mary Kate Archer of Jenkinstown, Kilkenny, Ireland who was the one of them all who counted the most. My generation can still apply for citizenship through a grandparent and for me it was Mary Kate.

Let me tell you a bit about this remarkable woman. She lived a simple life, arriving in this country at the age of 17—an entrepreneur, selling beauty products and looking for new opportunities. But the streets were not paved with gold as she had been led to belive and she became a housekeeper for the wealthy of New York City. She traveled to Harwichport on Cape Cod as maid to a wealthy family who were vacationing at the elegant Belmont Hotel. It was there that she met her future husband, John T., a handyman and sometime driver of hansom cabs. They fell in love, went back to Brooklyn and married. The very next day they moved to the Boston area where John T. had a permanent job as an iron worker. (He was one of the men who created the great iron clock on the Custom’s House Tower, downtown Boston.) Within a year their first child was born and by 1916 there were four children. It was not an easy life for Kate. They were never rich and she was not always healthy. But her strong Irish backbone and her Catholic upbringing gave her a way to see things through. In the winter of 1927, she collapsed on her way home from church. It was snowing and there were few people on the streets. When she didn’t return home, one of her sons finally went looking for her and found her lying on the sidewalk, covered in snow. She never fully recovered, dying that summer.

I never knew her and we only have a couple of pictures, but I think I would have liked her, and she certainly would have liked me! I’m sure of it.

Anyway, here’s to the Erin in my go bra! And three cheers to the ancestors who made it all possible. Yahoooooeeee!

Last week, on my way to work, I had to stop at the local supermarket to pick up a quick salad for my lunch. I was in a rush, late again… even though I am my own boss, it was already closing in on 10 am and I had a client meeting to get to and a ton of work on my desktop that had to be done by the end of the day.

Anyway.. just as I approached the market door, a little old lady pushing a cart was just entering. She was walking as slowly as cold molasses running down an ice flow… one of her feet had only a sock on it and looked a little distorted and she walked on it at an angle. There was just a moment when I could have dashed by her, but I was afraid she might be frightened thinking she was being attacked or something… so instead, I slowly and patiently waited the two minutes it took her to push her cart through the doors and into the market. Once there was clearance around her, I dashed by, rushed to the salad bar and loaded up an aluminum bowl, grabbed an apple and headed for the self-scanner aisle. I needed to get to the office.

But there she was again. In the three minutes it took me to walk to the salad bar, pick out my veggies and head back to the entrance, the old lady had managed to walk about thirty steps. Her cart was still empty and she was looking a little lost. She saw me coming. “Look at you,” she had a bit of a puzzled smile, “you’re all done and I haven’t even gotten started.” I smiled and mumbled something about “Oh, I just needed this one thing. Have a good day.” and I headed onward.

I paid for my stuff and left the store, got in my car and drove to the office. The whole time though I was thinking, “maybe I should have helped the lady with her shopping… then again, maybe this was her one big excursion of the day, and she wanted to do it herself, then again… if I did offer to help, how long would it take? does she have a special diet? Maybe I’d buy her something that disagreed with her… and she would get sick… then again, maybe she is a fabulously wealthy eccentric without any relatives, and she is just waiting for one kind person to help her out and she will reward them with all her money when she dies… then again… ” You get the picture… my mind was going in circles….

What should I have done? What would you have done?

I don’t know if you have a green thumb or not, but my sister has a green thumb that extends up and over her elbow. No matter what she sticks in the ground… ! amazing things happen.

This afternoon I stopped by to see what was blooming. Such a fertile crescent here on Cape Cod!!! She has squash and pumpkins growing by leaps and bounds… not to mention the holly in the corner of the lot.

And it’s all about sex!!!

The squash and pumpkins are pretty much in the same family… fabulous orange blossoms open early in the morning… fully flowered, waiting for just the right visitation from the right bee that has all that stamen type pollen on it’s wings or legs… I’m no scientist so I don’t know the specifics… let it be said.. the bee is the “matchmaker”… taking some of this and mixing it with that… and voila!!! the bud is budddeeeeeng… and the bee has done its job. A baby squash is on it’s way.

Sadly…. Those virgin blossoms that never got the sting fade away over night and will wilt and fall to the ground tomorrow. It’s a sad state of affairs.

In the meantime… deep in the back vestiges… the feminine holly bushes (there are such distinctions) have been well fertilized by the presence of the lone male holly bush… call him the holly boy! One bush among many female-now berry laden bushes….  Fabu! such fertilizations abound in my sister’s yard. You must come to visit!!!

It’s early morning. I just got up, made coffee and am about to start a fire for a warm and cozy beginning to the day. It’s Thanksgiving.

I feel that today of all days, thanks are more than in order for all the good things in my life: my family, my friends, my health, my ability to think, to walk, to talk, to “babble-on” — to work and sustain myself, to travel, to have adventures, to play golf!!!

I listen to the news a lot. Too much, probably, because what I hear more often than not is a lot of sad stories of people, families towns, nations in trouble… and I realize how happily untouched by most of that, my life has been. Much abundance has been given to me. What would it be like to know that at any moment a sniper could pick me off, a suicide bomber could blow up a crowd of people at the local Stop and Shop, that a gang might stop my car at the next intersection and demand the keys?

I live in a very warm and cozy place in my life where coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon are in the works, a fire in the hearth and a loving family waiting for me to join them for a thanksgiving feast later today. Tomorrow I leave for a week under the sunny skies of Florida and time to just sit and do nuthin. I really am lucky and I know it.

It’s dreary and raw here in the northeast, but by 5pm this evening I shall be in the sunshine of Florida. Off for a week of warm weather and good times.

Yesterday, the fam celebrated thanksgiving. Great food, good conversation… the crowd around the table was smaller, as the “kids” grow up they have other places to be. None of the five guys are married yet, so no new “little feet” running about. We are all pretty settled in our current spaces… whether in front of the appetizers or the football game. It was quiet and peaceful and quite fine. I mentioned that this blog had crashed recently. One of the relatives thought how appropriate, as the blog needs a little more energy, more controversy, more “something” to get him to keep visiting.

So I shall start being a bit more edgy. And we shall see. Will sparks fly?

Do you rotate your mattress? Last night I ended up sleeping in a dip. The mattress needs to be flipped. By 1 a.m. and still awake, I headed for the other side near the far wall. The surface was flatter—not as much dip. I finally fell asleep.

Drugs are good and an open window letting the cold night into the room all helped, but the mattress needs to be flipped. Back home, I’m thinking of getting one of those tempur pedic mattresses. They’re supposed to form to your body, support every bump and lump. But I hesitate. They are very expensive, but isn’t my health worth the best?

Does anyone out there have a decent mattress they can recommend? I need help big time.

I know for most of my readers the thought of stopping all that you are doing long enough to do nuthin’ is a far off dream. We are all so very busy about so many things. It always takes me a couple of days to slow down enough to be satisfied with doing nuthin’. It isn’t easy sitting still. It’s hard work. But I do it so well…. at least after those first two days of slowing down. I’m almost at the point where I can go to the pool, listen to music and just relax. Such a task! Of course, with the outside temps now approaching 85 degrees today, my hard work of relaxing is richly rewarded.

I am working on my blog… the fountain in the nearby lagoon sending water high into the air only to have it return with a splash… a never ending background sound… and Oprah on the TV in the next room… she’s introducing Christmas songs to an enthusiastic audience.

Time passes slowly when you are doing nuthin’. Just heard from one of my northern friends… she was inviting me to play computer golf this Friday. Alas… I shall be in paradise on Friday and cannot make it to the make-believe golf course… but I will not gloat. It won’t be long before I am back fighting the cold and windy drifts…

We are in the middle of a major thunderstorm... rain pouring down in the lagoon, our day at the beach foiled. I shall spend time blogging and telling you tales.

It’s been a very lo-key week, just enjoying the sun. I did have one client crisis which, fortunately, I was able to handle because I brought the files with me, just in case. It’s a client that is usually in crisis and having her latest job with me is a smart precaution.

Otherwise, it’s been easy going. Tempted to go to the movies today… “Precious” is a show we all want to see, but it’s a bit depressing and with the rain… today might not be the day.

So what do you think of the Tiger Woods Fiasco? Tell me something I don’t know. The news is filled with more revelations. His injuries came, not from the accident, but from his wife slugging him! I don’t blame her. What is it with these guys? Just heard a commentary on TV news… for guys, a little daliance has nothing to do with love… they do it because they can… but it has nothing to do with the love they have for wife, girlfriend, boyfriend… whoever!… talk about compartmentalization!

Sunny Florida has not been seen for three days. The tropical monsoons have taken residence in Fort Myers. We leave today with suitcases packed, and umbrellas pointed at the sky.

All in all, it’s been a good week, though not quite as we expected. A couple of friends couldn’t stay the whole time, and our hostess had to work three days, so we were left to our own devices… and for the most part, it was good to get away and relax. Last night we played a round of Phase 10 – a wacky card game that goes on for about two hours…much laughter and good natured cheating. I did not win, in spite of all my efforts. And I was NOT the one cheating.

The TV just reported that it will be cold and snowy when we get to Boston this evening… what’s with this weather, anyway?

Got home from vacation quite late last night. Our flight out of Fort Myers was delayed by three hours and we arrived at Logan in the middle of a snowstorm. Our pickup at the airport fought the snarly traffic and slushy roads to meet us when we called. My traveling companion urged me to stay at her house for the night, but I knew if I didn’t right away I would be shoveling snow in the morning. Reports said it was only raining on the Cape, and if I could only drive a few more miles south of the city, the ride would not be too bad. So I set out.

Unfortunately this was the first real storm of the season and the drivers were all very cautious. First storms do that… everyone slowed to a crawl. It took nearly an hour to get as far south as Plymouth to the beginning of the snow/rain line and I still had forty minutes to go. At exit five there is a Hampton Inn… maybe it was worth it to pay $100 and get off the road? Nah. I cranked up the radio – the Saturday Night Reggae Music Station was blasting and that kept me going.

Made it home by midnight. Long drive, good sleep in my own bed. And the sun’s out. Only 40 degrees! but at least there is sun. Alleluia.

Last night, just before I hit the hay, my nose started running. What’s with this? I’ve had my winter cold. It’s ovah! So what’sup with this dribble at the back of my throat?

I’ve been dealing with a low level headache for days… it just won’t quit, and now I know why. Do these viruses lurk in the dark, in the closets of our bodies, just waiting for a vulnerable moment when our defenses are down, we haven’t been sleeping well and we just want to go back to bed? and then these little microbes with their infectious little “gribbles” (I made that up) just grab hold and don’t let go.

So now I’m sucking on Hall’s menthol candies, popping Actifed and Mucinex-MD, and Coricidin M or whatever it is… one at a time and all at once…. just trying to fight back. The fact that a Northeaster is blowing rain and sleet outside doesn’t help… I think I need to go back to bed. Sigh. I posted a short video from YOUTUBE on my “Edge” page… check it out.

What’s your recipe for fighting off the gribbles?

It’s that kind of day. With the holidays just around the corner (which corner?- does time have corners?)—anyway, with a lot of holiday stuff still to do, my cold has to take a backseat… put it on the back burner… (my writing is full of these strange idioms… where do they come from?)… I’m interrupting myself… sorry. Bottom line! I got a lot of stuff to do. So I am popping pills, Sudafed to be exact (bought directly from the pharmacist’s hand as they don’t trust the good stuff to be out on the public shelves anymore – more about that later) and I am heading to the dump. I’ve got so many recycled jars and boxes piled up on the back porch, it’s getting hard to find my way to the door. I’ve put the trip off long enough and thank god for the cold weather or the bags of trash would have a distinct odor by now.

I was supposed to be in town partying with friends last evening, one more of my crowd just went “round the bend.” (Turned 60!) but I had to cancel because of my constant gribbles and the fear that I was infectious.

So today will be a solitary day of popping pills and tossing jars. I have to drag the Christmas decorations up from the cellar and decide which to donate to a good cause. I have so many bits and pieces… it’s beyond understanding. Anyone need a snowman on wheeeeeeels?

Oh, and by the way… I just saw this ad for the Discovery Store… they are having all kinds of sales. Click on it and discover for yourself. TTFN.
. . . . .

I am trying to stay out of the mainstream today… my gribbles are still running… and no need to infect the hordes at the shopping malls… most of my shopping is done anyway, either by going online or by heading out very early to my very favorite local shop for fabu “quality” gifts — Job Lot!!!! Oh. I’m sucha spendah! Such gifts. Such values! There’s nothing like getting the deal of a lifetime on a “quality” gift you can put under the tree, or stuff in a stocking hung by the chiminey. Something that the giftee never even  thought about, wanted, or can use. Such excitement!

This morning in anticipation of the coming holiday, I dragged all the decoration boxes up from the cellar. There are boxes and boxes. Every year we seem to acquire more “stuff” to hang about the house… Stuff for one room or another…. little jingle bells strategically placed so they jingle all the day… or ribbons from which dangle colorful ornaments. We even have a plastic “snowstorm” we’ve hung from the ceiling. Just in case we don’t have snow on the ground on the grand holiday, we can at least imagine it more vividly.

I’m not sure the snowstorm is going to make it to the ceiling this year… I have ideas for stars and floating snowmen instead… One thing for sure… high dusting must be done before anything goes up… then again, perhaps the ornamentation will look more authentic with an “antique” look about it…?

Do you clean before or after you decorate your house for the holidays?

I was hard at work this afternoon, designing, creating, doing all sorts of busy-little-bee things when my office phone rang around 4 p.m. It was a phone call from Paradise. No, not the one above, the lovely paradise below: Fort Myers, Florida. My friend was sitting at her pool in a balmy 84 degrees, sun shining, palm trees waving, the warm water beckoning.

I looked out my window at the cold, grey sky and gritted my teeth. “Lovely to hear from you, friend.” I heard her giggle. The woman had no control. Ok, so I was just in Fort Myers just a couple of weeks ago, and I know most of my readers haven’t been in a warm climate for nearly three months. So I shouldn’t complain. But the contrast — the comparison in weather and atmosphere is almost too dear to bear. Still it was great to hear from her. She’s busy checking on new job opportunities. Always living well and with a song in her heart!

Sigh.

As I write this missive, the clock is ticking towards 6 p.m. I have an hour’s ride in front of me, and I have a few errands to run on the way, so I am about to head out into the cold. But I shall not despair. I shall call upon my memory bank and dream of those waving palms and the warm sun on my svelt body. One can only imagine. It keeps me going.

Ever drive over a pot hole and wonder why the construction crews can’t lay down a better asphalt when they are paving a road? I’ve been doing some research and it seems that how they make asphalt today is with a formula from the dark ages. Weather has a crazy effect on it. Heat in summer makes it soft and freezing cold in winter makes it brittle. No wonder what we get is potholes.

Well, according to my research, there is an additive that they are working on to modify the asphalt during its creation. Polybutadiene! It’s made from recycled tires and when added to the asphalt helps to lesson the dramatic effects of hot and cold.

So why am I bringing this up? With all the talk about rebuilding our economy around new jobs in infrastructure, I’m thinking an investment in bridges, roads, and recycled materials might be worth a shot. Municipal bonds and Polybutadienes!

Whatcha think?

I have been researching my ancestors for a while now and I have only two more pieces of information needed before I can apply to Ireland for dual citizenship. A couple of marriage certificates to prove that I am the offspring of the offspring of the offspring… that’s all that’s needed and I shall be full of Blarney before you know it. So I’m off to the Massachusetts archives office this afternoon.

It’s fascinating to find out that there were farmers and blacksmiths, poachers and soldiers in my past… all those mahvelous personal qualities I take for granted… stamped into my genes. Discovering one more layer brings a sense of connection to those who have gone long before and I shall be sharing it all with my siblings this season. Hope they’re not bored.

I’ve been able to go back four generations or so… at least so far. Do you ever dig in your past?

The town I live in here on the Cape does wonders with its coastline and sandy shores in the summertime, but when it comes to plowing the snows of winter… our little village is at the bottom of the plow list. My family arrived last evening, they flew into Boston from the west coast, and lucky for them, all connections, flights, buses etc. ran on time and got them here without incident. The adventure began for me when I had to drive the short 10 miles to the Sagamore Bridge bus stop to pick them up.

Of course I had to first shovel and snowblow my way out of the driveway. Thanks to my very strong and courageous sister who lives not far away and is a wizard at the blower, we managed to free the car in only two hours…. I’m telling you, we got slammed with two feet of the white stuff and it took that long…. we still have another car buried somewhere in a drift, but that’s work for today.

Anyway, traveling by car was treacherous… ruts left by ugly SUV 4 wheel drive wagons made my little car slip and slide…. made me wish I had a Hummer, though my environmental guilt won’t allow such extravagance…

Bottom line… it took about an hour to go the 10 miles, but all was well and good and safe and now, this morning we are eating pancakes and the guys are ready to go do more shoveling.

The house has been filled with comings and goings for the last few days! Family, friends, kids, toys, gifts, feasts of turkey and ham, ice cream, stockings chockablock full with goodies… and a tree covered with trinkets and flashing lights… you know, chaos. It’s what makes the holidays so bright and gay!

I’ve not been able to find the peace and quiet to get to the computer… or to sort out my thoughts, mixed up as they are… but all has been fun and fine. Tomorrow, more good times await when family from Pennsylvania and Virginia arrive and we begin the feasting anew.

I, for my part, am heading north to my bed to take a nap. Will arise for home made lasagna, wine and song in a while… but the pillows await. TTFN. And here’s wishing your holiday is as much joy and chaos.

The gang from PA and VA arrive today… more food and a scrabble tournament for sure. We already have the “brain food” waiting in the wings — Chocolate covered peanuts! in honor of the Queen of Scrabble who always supplied her subjects with mobs of such treats.

I have been practicing inventing words, especially the two letter kind that sound and are obscure, but are still real words, i.e. en, em, ab, ad, these are real in the world of scrabble. Look ‘em up and see.

So it’s run to the supermarket, liquor store, clean the house, make the turkey salad for sandwiches… and it all begins again. Such fun. Only lasts for these two weeks… then quiet descends again and the winter snows lock me in. It’s important to savor the moment. They all move way too fast.

It’s been over a week since I’ve been to the office… the formal office. I have a home office and I’ve done a few odds and ends for work since the holiday week began. But today, the 28th, is the first I’ve sat at my formal office desk. It’s a transition. Opened mail, paid bills, organized files… not much happening and I must admit I am really tired from all the serious partying. One more night — a gathering around the leftovers… I think I will head back early to avoid traffic and a winter storm that is slowly crossing New England.

I think “dipping” into the melee of work is best done, one or two hours at a time. Don’t you agree? But hark!!! I just remembered, the house is filled with wild children playing noisy video games on an X-Box machine. Sigh. There is no escape. I guess I will just stay put and drink more coffee!

The holidays were grand. Lots of good times, good people, good food – too much good food. Many thanks to each and every one who came, who enjoyed, who partied!

I drove my sister and her family to the bus station late this morning. Snow was falling but it did not seem to delay the bus, and their plane took off just a few minutes late. Come Monday, all will be back to work, school and busy lives.

Today, I am spending doing little or nothing. It’s a good day to just veg out. They are still predicting more snow tonight and I might end up shoveling in the morn. But for now, it’s all peace and tranquility. Welcome 2010. Here’s hoping it will be a great year.

It’s a fun thing to decorate a Christmas Tree, but a painful reminder of time passing when you take it down. Here on Cape Cod, we de-decorated on Friday, yanked the pine out the front door and set it in a snow bank in the front yard for the birds to enjoy for a bit. It finally ended up as stacked firewood to warm the hearth in the cold months ahead.

Some people love their Christmas Tree so much they keep it up and fully decorated at least until January 6, the feast of the three kings, and some manage to keep it till February 2, the final day of the Christmas season according to the “official” church calendar. There are even a few compulsed souls like the pastor of our church in the town in which I grew up, who loved Christmas so much they kept their tree lit, decorated and clearly displayed in the front parlor window of the church rectory until at least mid April. I know this to be true, because my Dad was the one who would finally take it down. I think the pastor had one or two bulbs a little loose, but that’s only my opinion.

So when do you take down your tree?

This morning I heard a very interesting story on NPR’s morning edition. All about tracking the cost of your electricity use. How much does it cost to turn on the AC for a few hours? Or the washing machine? How much does that load of laundry really cost you to dry in the dryer?
You can find out if you have a SMART METER installed in your home.

It’s said that information is power but could information mean less power, when it comes to electricity use? Environmentalists and makers of so-called smart meters are convinced that’s the case. They say if consumers could see in real time how much power they’re using, they’d conserve more. But some behavioral economists say no way. They say electricity is so cheap that real-time information might lead people to run their lights and gadgets even more. – from the NPR website

Companies, among them, Google, are developing these SMART METERS for use in the home and you can track the money you spend when you turn on certain appliances or lights. It’s all about saving $$ and the environment.

I know that I cut my electric bill by 30% when I replaced all the tungsten bulbs in the house to those weird looking energy bulbs. 30%!!!! honest. Now if I can ever get my hands on a SMART METER, and see what things cost, I may never toast again!

Here’s the link to the story… you can listen in.

I admit I’m addicted to HD TV. It’s so clean and defined… old analog shows are fine… but I love High Definition, and I pay for it. Comcast.net is about to update my account and increase my bill. I just had a call into them to see how we can negotiate down, and the line went dead. This is not cool.

Do any of you have the triple bundle? phone, internet and HD TV? Around here that package costs about $114/month and it’s going up!!! Any suggestions? any tricks of the trade you can share? I need my phone, I need my internet of course… and the TV? I lived with basic cable for a very long time and it is BORING… so I kicked it up a notch…

Maybe I need to turn it all off and read a book. Appreciate your ideas people.

I’ve got to buy some Comcast stock! Don’t know if its a publicly traded company, but somebody is making a @#%! of a lot of money off the backs, telephones, tvs and computers of a #$%@ of a lot of people who have little or no choice or say in the matter.

Let me be more specific! I just got off the phone with my Comcast salesperson (took about a half hour to get through, by the way, their computers were down!!!)… anyway… my Starter Triple Play package is done, finished, kaput in mid February. If I don’t do anything, it will automatically reset to the “ordinary” Triple Play Package price… which is roughly $165/month. For this I get hi-speed internet access, national telephone service and HD TV with a few more channels than the basic package. Nothing special, no premiums… just news etc. That comes to $1,980 a year!!!! Wowsa! Not only that, but I have a cell phone that costs me $100/month…. or $1,200 a year!!!! That’s over $3,000 just to stay “in touch” with the world…. TOOOOO MUCH.

So what are my options…. I need the hi-speed internet because I work out of my home half the time, but I don’t need the Nationwide phone service…my cell will take care of that… and the TV? can I live with the $10 sub basic package which brings in about 20 stations and that’s it?

I haven’t read a whole book in almost a month… TV bags my attention, but I notice there isn’t much on these days… mostly gruesome re-runs of Bones or Law and Order… and I hate reality shows.

I have to make a decision before mid-February…. If I could manage a “bundle” package that saves me a bundle, I would do it… just thinking what I could do with that extra $$$$ — just think of the golf trips I could take!

I have to stop at OfficeMax on the way home today to pick up a magnifying glass. No I am not going blind and I don’t need it to read the newspaper — at least not yet!

What I do need it for is to examine some new immigration documents I found on the internet. My irish relatives from Jenkinstown can be traced up until the late 1800′s and then— poof! They fell off the map. Immigration to the states might be the reason. I have a document dated 1894 that notes a 6 year old Ellen Archer arrived in New York…this could be my great aunt but the names listed with her are very fuzzy and nearly unreadable… thus the reason for the new glass of magnification.

This genealogy thingy is quite addictive… a bit of a mystery map leading where?

I was out with a couple of associates this afternoon, having lunch and planning some strategies to grow one of my blogs: golfgurls.com (another venture for a prosperous future)… Anyway, I showed my friends the new business card for the blog. It shows a woman in her early thirties swinging a golf club. I mentioned (foolishly) that although it was not a picture of me swinging the club, I wanted to leave the impression with my readers that I was younger than I actually am.

It was at that point that one of the women tried guessing my real age.

Now let me first say that I have always considered myself young at heart, young in spirit and young in demeanor. So I was totally crushed when she guessed an age that is three years older than my actual age! I’m not telling you what that number was, but suffice it to say, her wild guess was just the thing to put me in a royal funk.

Of course, I immediately guessed her age and deliberately added about 10 years to what I knew was the correct age… and so the evil exchange continued. You can imagine the steam pouring from my ears.

We laughed about it later, no hard feelings and all that, but really!!! Do I really look three years older than I really am?

I need to shave my head.

I am cleaning house this morning in preparation for some friends visiting… granted, they will arrive after the sun goes down and the dust may not be terribly obvious… but if they move any book on the shelf, horrors! I remember listening to Quentin Crisp – a talk show guest from Britain once declared he hadn’t dusted his house in six years. “It’s perfectly fine unless you move something.”

I agree, but irish catholic guilt and the need to scrub overcomes my lazy attitude.

But where does it all come from? I dusted three weeks ago! And I hardly move in the house… just upstairs, downstairs, to the TV, to the fridge… that’s about it… and to the washing machine in the cellar. Maybe that’s the thing. The dust and cobwebs in the cellar are legendary… perhaps I am dragging it all upstairs with my clean laundry. Where else could it come from?

Here in Massachusetts we are in the last days of a very tight senatorial race. The democratic candidate, Martha Coakley was thought to be a sure winner back about sixty days ago, but her main opponent, republican, Scott Brown has been surging ahead and is now, according to the polls, in the lead.

I have to admit I have not been following the race closely until now, and only caught bits and pieces of the debates and news coverage… but one thing I did discover and wonder about, is the full page, full-frontal photo spread of Scott Brown published in Cosmopolitan in 1982. He was 22 years old and voted “America’s Sexiest Man.” I was going to post the photo, but just got some negative vibes from a very shy reader who happened to be near by as I write this missive. If you want to check out the photo spread for yourself, click here.

My point in pointing all this out… what do you think would be the reaction today if the other candidate had something like this in her background… The Scott Brown photo, though noted by the media, has been pretty much ignored as an issue. Maybe because he is a hunk and looked really good in 1982. Would a woman who looked equally fabulous and posed nearly nude in a national magazine, have the issue overlooked when she ran for U.S. senator twenty seven years later? Somehow, I think not.

I’m not trying to promote either candidate here… not my job… but I am pondering the question of double standards. What do you think?

I could comment on the latest election in Massachusetts… bizarre result. Ted Kennedy is rolling over in his grave… but no— I have a more pressing issue to discuss.

Within the last week or so I have received at least three emails, supposedly from UPS (United Parcel Service) or DHL (duh?) telling me a package was unable to be delivered to my address. They supply a tracking number and a zip file is attached. The message claims it is the shipping label and …. well here’s the message…

Hello! The courier company was not able to deliver your parcel by your address.

Cause: Error in shipping address. You may pickup the parcel at our post office personaly!

Attention! The shipping label is attached to this e-mail. Please print this label to get this package at our post office. Please do not reply to this e-mail, it is an unmonitored mailbox!

Thank you. DHL Delivery Services.

Sorry – all the red flags just went up. At first it looks legit, but then notice the misspellings! And besides that I am not expecting a package.  I think this is a total scam and once I click on that attachment my computer is going to be hacked!

If you get one of these messages dump it right away. DO NOT open the attachment. Or forward the email to DHL or UPS and let them know this stuff is out there.

Beware. Anyone else get these emails? Am I the only one? The Wackos Abound!

Yes, congratulate me on dragging my butt to the local workout palace. Lucky me, I got there just before the swarms of good looking 20 somethings arrived and took over all the machines. I managed to put in 7 miles on the stationery bike before exhaustion took over.

Last night I had a couple of glasses of wine, one with dinner, one with TV. At 300 calories a glass, that’s 600 calories of emptiness… This morning it took me 40 minutes of fast walking and biking to take off 250 calories—not even one glass of wine! I am not a happy camper. How is it our bodies rebel like this? They love the sweetness of sugar, the crispy bacon, the melting chocolate, and hate the taste of sweat as it beads on upper lips and runs down foreheads. Yucko. It’s a cruel cruel rebellion. What am I to do? What are YOU to do? Your body is probably bulging in all the “right” places just as mine is. The whole population is bulging.

A friend of mine just sent me a shocking email with photos from shoppers at WalMart. It’s enough to make you, well, gag! I include two of the pics here… You figure it out.

Here’s another…. how can these people go out in public looking like this? Do they not have mirrors at home?

Remember the song from that old commercial… I think it was Ma Bell before the break up… Reach out, reach out and touch someone…. or maybe it was Hallmark cards—I don’t know. Anyway… it struck me the other day as I was driving downtown… how many people were talking on cell phones. They were in their cars, standing on sidewalks, getting gas… everywhere I looked someone was chatting it up. Reach out, reach out…. but don’t touch no one… I know it’s poor English, but you get the point.

It seems to me that we live in an age when emails, cell phones, text messages, facebook, twitter and all sorts of social media are everywhere for us to use… so we can reach out… but don’t touch no one…. don’t actually have an encounter… face to face… always something technological in between… which makes for some strange and sometimes misunderstood communications…

For example… if you have 4,000 followers on twitter does that mean you are really popular? I have thousands of followers myself but they were created by some auto script I stuck on my account. The followers don’t mean a thing… it’s just a number. And facebook – yes I have an account with friends and fans… but with just a few exceptions… these are people who know people I know… but they’re not friends.

When I need to deal with a difficult question with a client, email is an avoidance tactic. Too many times the words you write can be easily misunderstood. Phone calls are best, and face to face even better. Reading someone’s eyes when they speak tells far more than their typing innuendos. CAPITAL LETTERS in email mean I’m SHOUTING at YOU! Wouldn’t you much rather have me just scream in your ear? Huh?

I had a client meeting in town yesterday, in a location just down the street from the Cambridge Cemetery where my paternal grandparents are buried. This is the grandmother I was searching for when I went to Ireland, so I decided to stop by and say “hello” to the ground in which she is interred. Although I had visited the grave a few years ago with my father, I had no clue where in the cemetery I would find the stone. So I stopped at the main office and inquired. I vaguely remembered my ancestors were located on “Mistletoe Path.” My memory was confirmed. Not only that, but the secretary was happy to print off the original orders for the plot including name, age, cause of death, etc. for both my grandparents.

With documents in hand and a map to guide me, I easily found the spot and took pictures. But here is the interesting part. The headstone has their names and dates but those for my grandmother are all wrong. Her name is inverted and her birth date makes her 14 younger than she really was, and five years younger than her husband! She actually was six years older than him and she died not at the age of 44 as the stone would suggest but at the age of 57!!!

Life moves too quickly to muck up such things… and why would anyone fudge with the dates just to make her appear younger? Oh vanity of vanities. My mother did the same thing with my birth certificate… fudging the years so she appeared to be younger than my father.. which was not true.

I guess they really cared about such things back “in the day.” Do we still care now? Does it really matter if you are older or younger than your spouse?

I don’t know about you but this cold weather is taking a toll on my health. My shoulders are frozen… I don’t mean so much by the cold, but by the effort to stay warm. The chill causes my muscles to contract and I find myself with tight tight tight tight muscles and my shoulders are up around my earlobes, all trying to stay warm. I wear heavy sweaters and scarfs and occasionally a hat as I sit here in front of my computer trying to type and sound witty at the same time. It’s not easy.

A good friend recommended a heating pad, one that has an auto shut off so you don’t burn yourself to a crisp… and I use that at night…

I used to have one of those bags of barley that you stick in the microwave and drape over your head to warm the cockles of your brain… but I can’t find it.

Anyway… I’m frozen. What about you?

The other day I took a quick walk around the block, heading for the post office. A simple trip to send off an old unusable electronic device (a palm pilot gizmo thingy that has long stopped working—more on this below). I decided to take the long way home rather than backtrack my steps. This brought me around to the far end of my street where, as I took the turn, I noticed the local “nut case” was sitting in his car. I must explain. This fellow posts signs all over his property, sometimes painted on his white chimney in large black letters. Signs that read: “Thief In The Neighborhood” and “You Bastards!” and “Stay Off My Land!” you get the picture. I think he’s nuts. Or maybe he’s an undercover agent for the FBI, posing as a nutcase because on this day, as I turned the corner there he was sitting in the front seat of his car, with a camera pointed right at me! He was taking my picture!

I was tempted to wave or smile or even walk right up and say hello. But he would probably blow me away with a six barrel shot gun if I came anywhere near his property line, and then you wouldn’t have Chapman Deering sending you such cheery posts every once in a while.

- – - – -

About those electronics… check out this website: http://www.gazelle.com They will recycle whatever you send them… and even pay you too. Unfortunately, they don’t take back printers.

I just got the heating bill for the latest oil delivery. Yikes! From now on I keep the temp at 45 degrees! Let the pipes freeze! I’ll wear mittens. Actually, I promise not to do that. (I rent you see, and the landlord would not be happen if there was a flood in the cellar from broken pipes… but the temptation is there all the same.)

Anyway… thinking of heating oil, and the latest bill, caused me to go into the back room and turn down the thermostat a few more degrees. (No pipes in that part of the house.) I’ve hung curtains at all the windows, and closed them against the drafts so the room is dark and cold right now. But just as I was about to leave the room I heard the strangest rattling as if something were beating on the windows. I looked to my right, to the one window near the dining room table, and I could just see between the folds of the curtain, that the window was wide open! The top section had slipped down, exposing the entire room to the cold air coming in from the porch. I have no idea how long it had been like that. I could have been heating the outdoors for weeks!!!

So… how strange is that, that I would be in the room, turning down the heat, just as the window rattled, drawing my attention to the open sash. I believe it was the spirit of my frugal mother letting me know the window was open. That’s what I think. She’s hovering around most of the time anyway, and this seems like something right up her alley. Thanks Mom.

Hopefully, if you live anywhere along the east coast, you are reading this post from the warmth and cozy innards of your happy home. There’s a storm brewing tonite and its about to hit Cape Cod in the morning. I’ve already pulled the cars into the driveway, checked the snowblower for gas and have my scotch in hand. I’m ready to parteeee. and blow snow.

Just thinking of all you chillins..  just chillin in the chill… and wanted to wish you well. More tomorrow as the snow flies. I’m off to my trundle bed in anticipation.

All the weather stations predicted 12+ inches for our neighborhood… and the storm central predictors were on TV all day spending time and effort pointing to maps and drawing diagrams. Perhaps inland there were piles of snow… but here on the coast it was mostly rain with some icy slush thrown in. This morning everything is covered with ice so I am waiting till the sun shines brighter on this old cape cod home and the temps reach the high 30′s before I venture out to shovel. No need for the blower… it would just be tossing chunks of ice around and probably break a window or two.

Not a disappointment really… when I read about Virginia and their 3+ feet of the white stuff, I am smugly pleased for the storm that was a bust.

It’s been a couple of weeks since last posting on chapmandeering.com – Some of my relatives might think I had met my maker, but no— I am still alive and kicking. Have been distracted by house guests, travel and taxes.

Went snowshoeing with friends to Mt. Sunapee last week…Had a great time in the woods, lots of sweat can be generated swooshing up those trails. We didn’t last long. My friend Kathy had the wrong boots on and it only took 20 minutes for her feet to ache… plus we got lost and had to backtrack. Snowshoe trails are not the best marked paths in the woods and we ended up at the bottom of a hill facing a reservoir. I was willing to trek across, but Kathy, noting the 40+ degree weather and the soft mushy snow, thought better of it, and we did not risk our lives.

So I am not dead. Aren’t you thrilled?

After months of grey, grim, gritty, grungey snow rain and mud, I am heading south for two weeks of sunshine. I know, everyone keeps reminding me that Florida is cold this year. In the 60′s! Horrors! Right now mid 60′s will feel like a steam bath to me.

I’m planning on working while I’m gone, much like my advencha of last year. I will have my computer with me and access to the internet and so will keep you up to date on my traveling. Today is packing day. I bought a new golf bag because I am hoping to get in a few rounds while I am down there. My traveling companions are not golfers, but that’s ok, even a day or two at the driving range will be good.

So ariverderchi…? I’m certain that is not the right spelling… so chow! babee. Till next time.

I know you must be wondering how I am doing in the warm wild south lands. It’s been an interesting mix of cold, rain, wind and losing my way. Fun, yes… and far better than sitting watching snowflakes fall…

Here’s a run-down:

Sunday was travel day — ALL day…. left home in order to catch the 8 am bus… met my friend in the airport .. coffee and a two hour wait till the plane departed…. flight was ok, tiny seats and NO leg room – AIR TRAN… don’t recommend it for seating… all that is to be expected I suppose, but Orlando is a very large airport and six AIR TRAN planes landed at the same time. It took over an hour to get our bags… then an hour in line for the rental car, then an hour trying to find our way out of the airport and down the road to the Sheraton Vistana Resort where we are staying.We went in to the registration center and just as they were to complete our registration all the computers went down. “Can you come back in a couple of hours?” AAAARRRGGGHHHHH!

We went shopping for overpriced food and ended up at some chop house for horrible BBQ ribs. I think it must have been 9pm when we finally got to our room and crashed.

Monday—the warmest day so far, we spent it walking around the grounds, exploring our options, sitting at the pool (lovely) and the hot tub (lovelier) and just hanging loose.

Tuesday—was the cold. raw, windy, rainy day, a “Pajama Day” as my friend called it and it was spent reading, watching TV, just hanging loose. We did take a walk so we did not go totally stir crazy.

Wednesday—This was the day I had arranged to travel to a local Golf Course to get a tour for my blog “golfgurls.com” Everything was set for 11:30 meeting. I got directions on Yahoo, but the manager of the golf course gave me new ones he said were much quicker. In any case, I got totally turned around, and spent an hour driving in circles. My friend Sue had all the maps and tried to help, but in the middle of my fourth U-turn she told me she had failed geography and had no notion where we were. At that point I was so frustrated I called the golf club to apologize and reschedule the meeting, and at Sue’s suggestion we headed to a store nearby and I bought a GPS unit for the car. I know, you think I’m a total whoosssse….

The Garmin is a lovely thing and now I can find myself out of a paper bag.

It’s Thursday and the advencha such as it is, awaits. More later.

Yesterday we gave in and entered the wonderful world of Disney… went to the Marketplace to browse, have lunch and see what there is to see. It’s only about 2 miles away, and with the new GPS in hand I was able to navigate without a hitch. Even got myself home again.

We wandered about … I was looking for two special Disney characters (two people I know are nuts about them) Jimminy Cricket and Merryweather, one of the three fairies from Sleeping Beauty… you know Flora, Fauna and Merriweather (the fairy in blue), but alas, neither character is at the height of the charts and there was nothing much to be found… the place was filled with The Princess and the Frog and Alice in Wonderland (the new film with Johnny Depp, which I think is weird…) so not much luck there.

By two o’clock we decided the movies was the best way to get out of the cold, and went to see Crazy Heart with Jeff Bridges. If you are into country music, it’s a worthy take.

Today, we play car shuffle… I have to pick up a car from my friends from Fort Myers. Their daughter drove up to Disneyworld and leaves on Sunday. I need to pick up the car from her today because I will be using it to travel to Fort Myers in a couple of days. The rental goes back to the airport this afternoon. So it’s car shuffle time. Hope the GPS takes me where I need to go. Will report back.

We just got in from the Olive Garden. Good meal, lots left over for two more meals… Sue leaves in the morning, I have another week or so. It’s been a grand time in spite of the weather. Lovely sun this afternoon and after 4pm special drinks at the cabana bana bar…. so I’m fine.

We are going to watch a movie. I’m trying to convince her to watch all five Harry Potter movies, one after the other till the early dawn, but she is discouraging me… can’t understand why…. more later.

I headed out this afternoon, GPS on the dashboard, heading for the local golf course… in Orlando there are so many that in any direction you are bound to find one. But I had carefully entered the address for the Nick Faldo Golf Course into my new handy dandy Garmin, and once I turned it on and charged it up, it led me easily and simply to the course I had selected.

My first time on the golf course since last November. A bit challenging getting into the swing of things, but all the kinks got worked out and I only lost 4 balls in the water over the course of nine holes. Not so bad. I played with a guy named Dave from D.C. He hadn’t played since October and could really hit the ball a far distance. He only lost three balls. It was a lot of fun.

In any case, I fired up the Garmin, now confident that I would be taken directly home. But it was not to be. My companion for the past week, Sue, who has one of these wizardry instruments had input the address for the place we are staying: Sheraton Vistana. The only problem was that there are four Sheraton Vistanas in Orlando, and needless to say she had input the wrong one. It took no time for me to get all turned around again until I found myself heading for the Magic Kingdom!!! At least I recognized I was off track, and as I had visited Disney on Wednesday I recognized a couple of landmarks… like the big mouse with big black ears on all the signs… anyway… I found my way, got home, and reprogrammed the $#%^@ thing. Tomorrow I head out to another golf course, this one 10 miles away—and I better be able to find my way home. Will keep you informed.

You know you’ve been suffering from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) when you arrive in sunny Florida and all you see are the hovering rain clouds. Yesterday was such a day… sun peaking through the overcast. But I got in a game of golf after all. A friend with whom I play regularly up north, is a  member of a nearby private club and she invited me to join her for a round of 18. What a hoot. We were joined by some unknown guy, turned out to be a 40+ bartender from a hearby resort — a good golfer, but someone who enjoyed his beer as he played. By the time we got to the 18th hole his putting was totally off. Still, lots of fun. I only lost 8 balls in the lake. I’m not exaggerating. 8 – count ‘em!!!

After I put one of my brand new Titlest balls in the pond, my friend gave me a bunch of old balls her husband had found. I played with those. Good thing. I’m going to write about this adventure on my other blog, golf gurls, so you can read every gory detail there. TTFN. The sun is finally out an I am heading for the pool.

It’s been a good week to simply relax. My host and hostess have been mahvelous giving me all the time and space I need to work on my blog, golfgurls.com as they prepare grand dinners in the evenings. They even provided me with Mr. Johnnie Walker, who I bring to the table each night. Such a good time.

The weather up until today has also cooperated. It’s not been a sit in the sun and bake kind of week, but sunshine and high 60′s has brightened my mood. This morning, however the rains are coming down like so many rats and frogs… (that’s Floridian for cats and dogs)… and I think it will be a stay in and read kind of day…. I brought all my Harry Potter movies… perhaps we shall have a film marathon? More later.

It’s raining in Boston, sunny still in Fort Myers… But I must head home. Two weeks away is the max I can allow myself… a stretch in my imagination anyway. Lots of fun, relaxation, not much sun or pool time, but good times none the less.

I am packing up my stuff, computer, golf bag, suitcase and leave early tomorrow. Promise to reconnect on the other side.

Chow people. Adios. Aloha. Peace and good tidings till we meet again. Happy Trails moochachas…

I’ve been back three days and am already exhausted… need a vacation! Re-entry into the work world is never easy, especially after two weeks… although it was a workin vacation… i did more nuthin’ than anything… and now, back at real work, it’s nose to the grind stone… except for yesterday, when I played golf all day, and today, when I’m leaving the office early to get my hair cut…

allright… I hear your snickers… and I don’t mean the candy bar kind… it’s true, I do know how to take care of myself… so now, after a full day – well, 5 hours of diligent work… I am off to get my beauty restored, and buy proper groceries… nothing in the house… i’ve been eating chinese food for three days.

More this weekend, when I really knuckle down.

I have a thing for stray crumbs— on the counter, on the tablecloth…. I don’t know why. I am compelled to wipe things clean and crumb free! I try to keep my compulsion under control and I succeed most of the time. But after I watch myself wipe the kitchen counter clean of crumbs for the third time in two minutes, I begin to wonder. Am I nuts?

Compulsions come in all shapes and sizes. We’ve all heard about the hand washers… people convinced they have germs on their hands to the point where they wash their hands hundreds of times a day. Or the people who have to keep checking that the doors are locked. I know a woman who is compulsed about stitches—you know, the ones in a sheet or quilt?—they have to be perfectly straight and even. She’s tempted to throw out perfectly good bedding if it does not meet her standards!

I have a good friend who has my crumb compulsion. But she admits to be being totally horrified when, at a recent dinner, the woman next to her at the table leaned over and started wiping the stray crumbs away that had landed at my friends place setting!

My mother had a compulsion for perfect plaids. They had to match across the seams. I recently bought a pair of plaid golf shorts and only examined the plaid when I got the clothes home. Horrors! The plaids did not match. My mother would never have tolerated such a thing. Poor workmanship. So back to the store they went! Saved me $39!

So what’s your compulsion? I know you must have one.

Got an email from a fellow traveler this morning and wanted to share it with you. It’s a great article  written by Maureen Dowd, opinon page… New York Times. Don’t frown. It’s worth the read, and will only take two minutes of your time. Puts a lot into perspective re: the church, the pope and all those poor kids.

Yeah to Maureen Dowd.

A Nope For Pope.

Yup, we need a Nope.
A nun who is pope.

The Catholic Church can never recover as long as its Holy Shepherd is seen as a black sheep in the ever-darkening sex abuse scandal.

Now we learn the sickening news that Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, nicknamed “God’s Rottweiler” when he was the church’s enforcer on matters of faith and sin, ignored repeated warnings and looked away in the case of the Rev. Lawrence C. Murphy, a Wisconsin priest who molested as many as 200 deaf boys.

Click here to read the rest of the article.

I used google’s translator to create that headline. I just broke my third french press! (As my french is not so good, it probably reads: I just squashed my french turtle….) but who cares.

Once again I have succeeded in cracking the glass in a french press. They are so delicate… and no matter how careful I am, i am never too careful. Sigh. It portends to be a difficult day, but hey, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, my car is still running (though it needs an oil change) and all is pretty much right in my world.

Et vous?

I am spending the weekend with my friends in Maine. We had hoped for a warm and sunny time at the shores of Ogunquit… but the weather promises to be cold, damp and raw! Ah well, we shall have to suffer quiety within the confines of their lovely cottage… saluting the sun behind the clouds with chardonnay and sauvignon blanc. We are all white whine drinkers! As this is Maine and fish country, white whine seems best don’t you agree?

I have a goal for this weekend. I must travel to each and every Dollar Tree store, looking for “quality” gifts for my golfing buddies. About 60 of us play golf each Thursday evening during the season, and this year I am in charge of buying the booby prizes for the losers… also good gifts for the winners of our weekly tournaments…  but those I will get online at a golf outlet. It’s the boobies that I find most interesting. So I shall report back when I have them in hand.

And that’s that. Life goes on smoothly… my own golf game is slowly improving. Work is busy… continuing to work on a variety of blogs, even clients are asking for my help with them… so my hobby is becoming my profession.

Enjoy the weekend. TTFN.

Sucha day! I woke early, to the sound of rain on the roof…. I stayed under the coverlet as long as I could… but the grey skies and the promise of coffee finally got to me and I headed down the spiral staircase to the lower level and my DD coffee.

I had a dream last night… an old victorian house fell over in a high wind and I rushed inside to rescue an old lady living on the third floor… there’s more to the dream but that’s enough information to get you “dream analyzers” going… I know… the house is me, and I am falling over!!!! That’s the way it feels today… misty day and all.

No great plans for the day… going to go shopping for a pair of sexy jeans! That’s the goal. That and the Dollar Tree Store for “quality” booby prizes for my golfing buddies…. more later…

It’s still raining here in southern Maine. I’m in the loft room looking out at the trees soaked and dripping, cascades of water running down the trunks and branches…no beach today though yesterday my hosts took me on a very quick turn around the beach parking lot so we could see the pounding waves. It’s vacation week for a lot of school kids and their families. It’s going to be a wet one.

We’ve done a lot of shopping. I bought my pair of sexy jeans… have to have them hemmed.. or I can roll up the legs and look like farmer Jane. That’s it. Farmer Jane in sexy jeans. Fabu Fabu.

I received many wishes of well from friends via phone messages, comments here and cosmic, psychic thoughts sent on the ether. Thanks to you all.

We had a lobsta fest last evening… with filet mignon – a surf and turf feast just for me. Fabu fabu. And I got some quality gifts including a golf board game and a bottle of the best 18 year old Scotch. Mr. Dewars step aside.

Today I am staying cozy in my bed till I hear movement down below. No need to rush. All I need is a shower and a little java to get my gears running smoothly.

I return to reality this evening… work and challenges await. TTFN.

My sister, the super gardener, delivered some compost for me yesterday. It’s free to get at our town dump and she is very meticulous in gathering what she can and bringing it back to her earthern lands. She carefully lines the back of her old van with tarps and black trash bags, then with shovel at the ready, she heads to the transfer station. They wave her through — she is so well known, and never has garbage to trash, just lovely recyclables and a yen for good compost.

This year she got to the compost pile a little early. It’s the first batch and must have come from the top of the pit…. It’s still got bits and pieces of real things in it… my sister found an old shoe. And we were both suspecting fingers and toes would be next. If I were to dump a body, the compost pit is a good place to start.

Anyway, my share of the dirt is sitting in my Dad’s old wheelbarrow out in the back yard. I must remember the tarp before I leave for work and the afternoon rains will soak it and make my gardening a bit more muddy than ususal.

Such excitement!

Well, I’ve gone and done it. Sold my car to my nephew who was riding around in a car duck taped together  and desperate for new wheels (it was more than time – the old Dodge Stratus was sputtering its last sput.) It wasn’t that I had to… but I decided to help him out. Which, of course meant I had to go and get new wheels myself. What to buy? Which options to get… My dream car is a Jaguar Convertible, 5 on the Floor, Dark Forest Green with a Black or Beige rag top – (can’t quite decide on the color of the rag) When GolfGurls.com makes me millions the Jaguar dealership will be my first stop after the bank! But right now, I trotted myself back to the Honda dealership and bought a sensible Civic — not too sensible… this one has heated seats to keep my buns happy in the winter, and a sun roof, to keep my spirits high in the summer when I can speed around town feeling super sunny!

Buying a car is always a bit of a hassle… there’s the pull and tug of the pricing negotiations, the time off of work to trot down to the showroom for the third time to sign all the paperwork… wondering if this is the year I should get a vanity plate… something slightly profane? perhaps, with a secret message only I will know? Which is kind of stupid, if I am the only one who knows it. At least it would be a plate number I would remember… something like: HOTSY  or  TOTSY  or UGOGRL …. Believe it or not HOTSY is actually available… but somehow a middle aged woman driving down the road in a sensible CIVIC with HOTSY on her tail does not jive too well in my mind…. Maybe something like:  LZYBUM would be bettah? That one too is available. And I am sorely tempted.

But having spent several thousand on the car I have suddenly become a very frugal person with heated seats and a sunroof. I’ve decided to forego the $125 vanity plate fee and the ongoing $75 a year fee to keep the LZYBUM on my back end. I’ve ended up with a plate that has some string of 6 letters and numbers that mean squat. There’s an “H” in there somewhere. Is that a sign I’m still a HOTSY?

Anyway, today is my second day with the car, too warm for heated seats and it’s going to rain so no sun roof. But I shall drive around anyway enjoying the smell of a clean car and some new tunes on the radio. TTFN – off to the races.

Ok — all you people who got up at 5 a.m. to shower, shave (face, leggs, whatevah) and get ready to hit the road on your daily commute to work — all you people may hate me!

But it’s a struggle to get motivated for work when you can sleep late and slog around in the early morning. I’m at my desk, I’ve checked my email, I have a client with a brochure that simply has to get to the printer today and there are still edits to be made! I was planning on going into the “real” office but – the bridge off the Cape is still under construction, and why should I waste the time and the gas — even with my new car? — so I am staying put and working from my home office.

The down side — and there is one — is that I must be self-disciplined…. I must stay at my task and not be tempted to go for a walk, drive to the store, slip out under the radar and head to the gym for another turn on the treadmill — Those of you who know me well, know, in fact that I need to be kicked off this computer and dragged into the street to get some fresh air. That’s the real problem. Once I sit my fat bum on this chair it’s a chore to get me up and moving.

I noticed when I was resting in my bed last night that “Lila” the food baby— that bulge in my middle that is nothing but fat— is growing by leaps and bounds. I am turning into “Lila” the food blob! I wonder if humiliation will make me change my tune?

Suppose you and I, dear reader, make a pact. I promise to exercise – some how, and will write about it. And you, keep me to my promise. Just by saying I will write each day about whatever exercise I manage to squeeze in, might be just the motivation I need.

You don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to comment. You can even delete the email alert. All the focus is on my end to announce my intention and to do it. Yahoooeeee.

Well, now I’m exhausted. I think I’ll rest for a while. Where did I put that chocolate bar?

This you won’t believe.

I went to the dentist about a month ago. Had an appointment with my hygienist, Nancy. In between working on my plaque buildup and shining my pearly whites I told her about my latest venture, golfgurls.com  - my blog targeted at women golfers. She thought this was cool. And I thought she was cool for thinking I was cool, etc. etc.

Anyway, yesterday I get this article in the mail. It’s from Nancy, the hygienist. She had come across an article in the Hartford Courant Newspaper that reminded her of me. Those of you who know I was once ballyhoooed as the family’s “bathroom inspector” because I insisted on visiting every rest room on the turnpike when we traveled, will think that Nancy is psychic and knows the product mentioned in the article was designed just for me. I prefer to think that she found the product’s website address (go-girls.com) and golfgurls.com are similar in sound. That’s what I think and I’m sticking to it. I laughed for about three minutes.

In any case… I checked it all out and it’s worth posting a link to the website… who knows! The women among us might just find the item quite useful! Because life’s greatest adventure shouldn’t be finding a bathroom!

GoGirl.com – Don’t Take Life Sitting Down!

Oh such a ride I took this morning. I had to take a quick trip to the local post office to mail a check that is due today. I dragged my old bike out of the garage and pumped up the tires and headed out. Those of you who know my neighborhood know how difficult the ride to the post can be. Weaving in and out of running squirrels, avoiding the puddles and muddy road edges…

Oh! Such a travel this is. This trek is most dangerous as it involves my going out onto a real road. Oh Such travails as I traveled!!! I think my nephew was the last one on the bike sometime late last summer, and his long legs require a high seat. Mine do not and I found myself having to stop and adjust a few times. I finally just hopped off and pulled the seat down an inch or so, and now it is in better position to support my svelt body. The letter has been mailed, the bike is back in the yard (I sprayed the gears with WD40 as they were a bit squeaky.)

Actually, the short trip has inspired me to try it again… this time, to the loop!!! Will do that after I eat my very healthy salad for lunch.

I really don’t but I thought that headline might get your attention. I hate cigarette smoke. Especially on the golf course… and worst of all – those big ugly stinky stogie  ceeegars the arrogant men golfers puff and leave behind on the fairway. I’m sure they smoke on the golf course because their sweet wives can’t stand the stink in the house!

I heard an interesting tid-bit this morning on NPR as I was driving in to work. They have found a fabu use for recycled cigarette butts. Honest. It seems that if they soak the butts in water and extract the residual chemicals (including nicotine) they can use the resultant goo as a surface protector for metal. The gooey mess prevents corrosion!

Just imagine what that stuff is doing to your lungs! Here in Massachusetts the anti-smoking whoseewhatsitgroup is trying to get store owners to hang posters of rotten lungs and lip cancers within two feet of their cigarette shelves. The idea of course is to discourage people from buying the insidious smokes. Store owners are complaining. They don’t want to discourage sales. What planet are they on?

It’s so “mid afternoon” and I am so wanting a butt or two. Guess I’ll settle for gum and a tall cup of Java.

Last night I was out with a couple of good friends. Good food, good conversation (most of it about recent scandals! – most enlightening) good times. When we had finished our repast we weren’t quite ready to finish the night, so we drove down the street to an upscale hotel to sit in their lobby and have a night cap. A night cap for us meant two cups of tea and a coffee…. the coffee for me as I had to drive home (almost two hours away—and it was nasty weather—I had to stay awake.)

We were fortunate to find a quiet corner of the lobby and settled in for our ritual reading of tarot cards, and astro dice. I was just starting to shuffle the cards when our waitress appeared with our order. “Are those tarot cards?” she asked. I was impressed she recognized them. “If they’re tarot cards you’re fine. If they’re regular cards I have to ask you to put them away. The management considers any card playing gambling and it’s illegal here.” We explained that we were just doing general “hokus pokus” and not Texas Hold’em Poker. She was happy, we were happy. She even brought us three large chocolate chip cookies to enjoy. Great waitress.

Yumm. The cookies and coffee were just what I needed. And the first tarot reading went super well. NINE, count ‘em NINE major arcana cards showed up. Now, if you know anything at all about tarot cards you know that is nearly impossible to find in a ten card spread. This friend of mine was being carried by energy beyond control. Good energy I must say, with only happiness coming her way… in a while… not right away. The outcome card was, after all, the Hanged Man. (Don’t worry… just means a “pause” not a death.) The second reading I did for my second friend was not quite so earth shattering… but gave good indicators of the need to let go of anxiety and move forward.

That’s when my friend with the Astro Dice started shaking and rolling…the dice, I mean. I think the management might have had second thoughts about our quiet little gathering when I tossed the dice at the top of the glass coffee table… but no, by that time our waitress was off duty and everyone in the lounge was busy sipping cocktails. We were left alone to contemplate my cosmic future… which is bright, provided I work my tail to the bone…

And what about that question in the title of this post? It came up in conversation—isn’t it interesting how converstations have a tendency to travel in the strangest directions! Ours focused on the “how tos” of staying germ-free when traveling and “necessity” calls. Very enlightening information was exchanged — I won’t go into details for which I’m sure my friends are grateful. And the answer to the question? “Yes,” “Yes” and “You’ve got to be kidding.”

- All in all, a very pleasant night.

I have been working like a buzy bee on a bunch of important things and have been neglecting my chapmandeering postings… many apologies…

Does this ever happen to you? Busy about so many things, running back and fro, a little of this, a lot of that, maybe some of this thing or the other thrown in… so that you feel like you are going in circles, larger and larger, grabbing life and bizarre moments as they happen… and living in a bit of a whirlwind…! Well it happens to me a LOT.

That’s when I know it’s time to come in for a landing and just chill. I’ve got something planned every day next week and a crowd coming on the weekend, followed by family from CA arriving on the 15th for the summer. I’m supposed to be traveling north tomorrow morning to visit a friend, play some golf, go to a concert and then get back here on Sunday so I can cram in more stuff for my blog, golfgurls.com

Well… I just called in sick. It’s the smart move… I’m sorry I know my friend will be disappointed.. and the golf course may very well charge us the greens fees…I will pay them, gladly if they insist, but it’s supposed to rain anyway… so it may end up being a moot point.

A good friend of mine introduced me to the Buddhist concept of simply sitting still… “Do What You Are Doing” OooooohhhHHHHHHHHMMmmmmmmmmmmm….

Be in the moment. Do what you are doing… focus and concentrate… All will be well… it will all get done in its own time…

And so it is so.

OOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm. I’m chillin’ people. Chillin.

YIKES!!!!!

I just came up from down below (doing three loads of wash today) and there was a bird flying around the front room. How the heck did he get in? I’m sure it was a male bird… very colorful, very flappy, etc. etc.

We just had a major tropical storm move through and I could hear the rain pounding on the chimney cap high up on the roof… maybe the cap blew away and the bird just came zoooooming in! If that’s the case then more birds and —horrors!!! SQUIRRELS!— could come down the chimney asap. Gawd. I will have to wear a hat for fear animals will get caught in my hair! Or is that bats? – Anyway… its horrible….

FLAP FLAP…. SCURRY FLAP – SLAM! The bird just hit a window and went down behind the plants! I’ve managed to get the front door open and have braced it with my new summer sun chair complete with neck pillow and cup holder that I got for Christmas… I’ve been able to angle the chair just so, it is holding the door open…. then—bravely I am back into the front room and with arms wide, I flap and try to scare the creature out from behind the plants, up onto the windowsill and finally, with much ado and much squawking (my squwking – the bird is now silent with terror)… out the front door it flies and off into the wilderness.

Such a time! I’m going to have to sit down.

But now a thought occurs: if one bird could get down the chimney… then others will surely follow. I shall have to barricade myself in for protection. Maybe I can glue a shower curtain up against the mantle piece… perhaps something with a tropical forest design…?

Am I over-reacting? I’m still wearing the hat. Even to bed if I have to.

The sky’s are gray…My spirit’s blue..
No golf today...What can I do?

“Work!” you say,

“Do not delay!

Much to be done

No time for fun!”

How cruel of you! What work? I ask
My golf is work – That is my task!

I blog for golf- I live to swing
I putt for cash-That is my “thing”

So work I’ll do, and so I’ll be
To write, to blog – to then partee.

There’s money to be made in them thar links! Yeah golf!

No question, the 20 mile bike ride I made last Saturday was a lot of fun. But by the end of the ride, my “particulars” were not smiling.

Here’s the story: Two friends came down to visit me at my happy home on the Cape and they brought their bikes. Cape Cod Rail Trail just opened a new leg of the Falmouth to Woods Hole Ride and it now goes north towards the Cape Cod Canal ride and Bourne. The trail people  hope to complete it someday… but for now, we jumped in on the trail 10 miles north of Woodshole. An easy ride most of the way, it was a little crowded in spots and there were benches every few miles so you could get off and take a rest. Good thing, as my body needed the time to recover.

We brought our lunch and once in Woods Hole we settled on a park bench and chowed down. But the skies looked ominous and it didn’t take long before we were back in the saddle and heading back up the trail… 10 miles to the car. The wind, thankfully was at our backs and though the trail actually goes uphill in spots, it wasn’t a hard ride. The last three miles were tough, though. The heavens opened and the rains began to fall. That and the fact that my “particulars” were screaming at me at that point, made those last 3 miles seem like double the length…. !

Glad we did it. But before I try again, I need to get a new seat… one with an opening in front to manage my “particulars.” Any suggestions from my devoted fans???

My determined and very disciplined sister has decided to drag me to the gym! She tried her best last summer to get me off my mushy butt… I had every excuse not to move. Work, work and more work. This year her determination and my widening waistline have decided for me. For the last two days—count ‘em—TWO days I have gone to the local gym and sweated my brains out on bikes and treadmills while she dances and jives in the Zumba room or hits the deck in the Boot Camp Exercise class….she’s very good.

Yesterday was hot and the extra sweat on my brow from exercise did nothing to make me sweeter. Still when I got home there was an email message waiting for me — a client crisis! Rather than hit the shower right away, I sat down at my computer to try and solve the problem.

Needless to say, the day wore on, my solving the computer issue, still in my ugly gym clothes… through lunch and finally into the evening. I totally forgot to take a shower, my appearance must have been appalling! (I admit, I never bothered to look in the mirror!)

I grilled a fabu dinner and we ate outside under the trees, ending with wine at the fire pit. I never bothered to change or brush my hair! It never occurred to me. This is the beauty of true family! Never having to shower! And still they love me. Of course, it could be they are just being polite, but I prefer to think of it as LOVE. Wouldn’t you?

By the way, I’m off to hit the showers at last…. beauty is just a soap bar away.

I’m a dork. Full blown helmet head.

I went to the hair salon yesterday… an appointment for a trim. I made it clear to Robyn, my beautician for the last six years, that I wanted a trim, just some off the back and a little off the top to make it a bit more fluffy. With full confidence in her ability to understand English and my plee not to turn me into a little boy or dweeb, I closed my eyes and relaxed into the chair.

Twenty minutes later when I opened them there I was. Dork. Helmet head. Dweeb. Dinkola. AAAAWWWWRRRRRR!!!!! When the hair is gone what do you do? Hide. My shame is total. I will have to wear a hat to work. No words can explain…. all I want to do is scream.

My sister keeps telling me that beauty comes from within and that I should be happy it isn’t any worse. She’s trying to be kind.

And don’t wonder at my keeping my eyes closed during the event… I had to take my glasses off, and am blind without them, so resting my eyes was just a welcome option. But nevah… I mean NEVAH again will I let this woman cut again. Color yes. She’s good at color. But cut? She has long beautiful blonde tresses… maybe I should be the one carrying the shears next time.

I know hair is not the most important thing in the world when you think of starving people, crime in the streets and oil spreading all over pristine beaches along the Pensacola Florida coast… but it’s important to me. And I’m going to be having a bad hair day for the next three weeks. AAAAAWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHRRRRGGGGGG.

Save me.

I made a terrible mistake last night. Everyone was out for the evening and I couldn’t help myself…. I decided to indulge in a big bowl of ice cream. Unusual for me these days as I am trying to cut back. Unfortunately for me, the hour was late, the ice cream had huge chocolate chunks in it, and the caffeine laden chocolate kept me tossing and turning most of the night. That plus the fact that I listen to talk radio and easily get engaged in the conversations and political news, that I spent hours staring at the bedroom ceiling. Last night was tough. The humidity was still in the air, and though the fan was constantly blowing upon my prostrate form… relief in the way of sleep eluded me till nearly 4 am. I learned all about the election results in South Carolina, the spill in the gulf and the latest scandal from Hollywood.

I woke up at 8:15 this morning… late for me… I was exhausted.

As I write this missive, my sister is digging through the freezer and has just discovered my theft! She was planning on using the ice cream for my nephew’s birthday party later today. Oh dear.

What excuse can I give. I really didn’t think you know. When I started eating the splendid dessert I was out of control. It happens once in a while. I scooped just a little, and it seemed so small in my bowl, I scooped another, then another…. and before I knew it, I had scooped just about all of the ice cream out of the box… and there was so little left in the bottom of the carton —well, I didn’t want it to go to waste. Such a large carton, and so little ice cream sitting there in the bottom, alone and just waiting for someone. So I took that too. I even added some whipped cream.

I took the monstrous bowl into the TV room and began to eat. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I had “bitten off more than I could possibly chew.” When my nephew came home I asked him if he wanted to help me finish off the bowl, but he declined. He had just come home from a friend’s party and he was full of goodies without one spec of space to eat anything else. Very unusual for a fourteen year old!

I tried to finish the bowl myself, but by now, shame had replaced rapture. I had to stop eating. And as the remainder of the ice cream was now beyond anyone else’s enjoyment, I had no choice but to dispose of the glob… It had melted considerably.

Bottom line… by the time I hit the sack, I was most uncomfortable… fell right to sleep, then woke up an hour later with the caffeine chocolate jiggies… and those lasted until 4 am. Ugh.

Won’t do that again. Did you ever over indulge?

Oh, life is so exciting at our house… every time I turn around something else appears, be it a ramp for the front door to help my brother negotiate his way in and out, an outdoor fire to warm our hearts on a hazy humid evening with the mosquitoes buzzing, or my famous no finger chicken dinner which I prepared flawlessly last evening. A big success I might add.

In the meantime the family has gathered round to play UNO, BananaGrams, Dominoes… and start planning for July 4 holidays. Big Plans for a BBQ. Yummmmmmm.

More later.

First, apologies for my silence. Too many people, too many distractions, not enough time, etc. etc. etc. No excuse. I’ve become a lazy bum in this heat and have a hard enough time dragging my tail out of bed by 6:30 a.m., much less trying to be clever and creative with words, pictures and posts first thing in the morning.

So I’m a slug. No excuse. Just that. There it is. And proud of it too. It’s good to slug around once in a while. We who live in the guilt of the perpetual Puritan ethic of work work work and “time off is the devil’s workshop,” or however that saying goes, need to shift our gears and head for the hammock, which is where I am going right after posting this blog. I’m doing a wash right now and will hang it on the line so all the neighbors can see my linens and my frugality… but after the guilt has been assuaged, it will be a pleasure to swing slowly in the hot breeze under the shady beech tree in back, bottled water in hand, a good book and only the sound of pounding hammers from the guys next door putting on a new roof.

You think you’ve got issues with the heat? Imagine being on top of a house pounding nails into shingles… Maybe I’ll take the garden hose to them to help them out… but nah, those guys are probably used to it… of course, one did just fall off into the bushes and I heard another swear as he fell… so there must be some limit to how much heat a body can stand. (Only kidding… no heat stroke allowed amongst roofers from the Puritanical northeast. Hammer, hammer, hammer, sweat, sweat, sweat. Die. die. die! if you ask me.)

I for my part, spent the morning in Yarmouth, Cape Cod, taking a golf lesson. It’s true, I’m addicted to the sport. But it was too hot to be out there on the driving range. I tried to retain all that the instructors tried to tell me… but it’s all a blur right now. Perhaps after a little hammock time it will come back to me.

Stay cool, people. TTFN.

I’ve been on a diet for a couple of weeks. Lost a few pounds, but it hasn’t been easy. Mr. Dewars has had to stay far away for the duration… but come Sunday night, the fast is over, my liver has rebounded and is ready for another taste of the brew. I have learned I don’t need sugar – too much, and I can get away without all those extra taco chips… provided i don’t start at all. They said I would lose my craving for such things. Alas… I only crave more, and cannot wait for the salty taste of a good chip with a little dip… it’s those little things that bring such fine satisfaction and pounds of course….

I shall try to exercise beginning next week… always tomorrow… I threw my back out playing golf on Tuesday, had to stop right in the middle of the round… will try a little swinging over the weekend, and perhaps I will be ready for next week’s tournament… anyway… just ate a veggie burger for lunch. My friend from Vermont left them behind. Grilling them till crispy on the back Weber, worked and they were tolerable. Don’t know if I would seek them out in the marketplace, but as they were the only choice in the fridge for lunch… they worked just fine.

Have you ever tried veggie burgers for food? Nothing substitutes for a big juicy burger though these weren’t bad.

TTFN.

Back to work. Blogging my way to stardom with golfgurls.

I have no idea what was going on last night. I swear I’m being haunted by ghosts or strangers in the dark… the most extraordinary things started happening. And this is the absolute truth. Honest. No kidding.

I listen to the radio at night. Usually using my iPhone… I have an app built in that lets me listen to  NPR all night long, from anywhere in the country… easy peasy… been using it all summer long. Last night I set it up as always… and each time I selected a station I was able to listen for about two minutes and then the station would fade out. Gone. Silent. The phone was fully charged, but still I could not hold a station for more than two minutes. Then the screen wouldn’t shut off. If you have an iPhone you know that screen is really bright, especially at night… could not get it to dim.

Then… the creepiest thing happened. It was two in the morning and the coffee maker in the kitchen began grinding as if there were beans in the pot. I could hear it whirrring around down there . Out of nowhere, the sound of grinding! You should know that all summer long we didn’t even use the grinding element of the coffee maker. Never turned it on. Yet, here, in the middle of the night, the machine started grinding invisible beans. Not once, not twice, but constantly for at least an hour, on and off, grind and stop, grind and stop. My imagination was going wild and I finally concluded that someone had snuck in the house, was downstairs in the kitchen, trying to lure me into his clutches by setting off the coffee maker to grinding, trying to get me to go downstairs and investigate.

I determined to stay absolutely up stairs. No coffee grinding maniac was going to get me. I was staying upstairs, my silent iPhone clutched in my frozen fist.

It was not a dream. Something was setting off the grinder, something was silencing my phone! I finally turned off my phone and let it reset itself, which worked.

As for the grinder? I pulled the plug on that baby this morning. It’s going to the dump!