Our Sweet Rental Home...on Orient, Long Island

We arrived at our sweet rental home late in the afternoon ....after a day of shopping and browsing the middle of Long Island. Although we visited this house and its owners on my fall trip out here....I was surprised how pretty and serene the place felt as soon as we opened the door.

In a few hours of residence we already made a simple dinner....downed a bottle of wonderful Merlot from South Africa while listening to Klezmer music....traditional Eastern European Jewish folk music. We decided to bring only world music to our house to listen to this week....so I brought Salsa and African music....hub brought Klezmer, Australian and Celtic music. I tell you with a bottle of wine in me....I was ready to stomp around on these hundred year old wooden floors and dance!!!

But instead we hit the beach.....which was hard work since the beach is composed of zillions of smooth pebbles. The waves sound lazy and slow here...almost sloppy..and after they hit the beach...thousands of small pebbles roll back with the waves creating a high pitched tinkling after sound. Because your feet sink into the pebbles....it takes a lot of work to walk on the beach and halfway back home we cheated and hit the road....so we could return before midnight...lol

I can't wait for the morning....I'm planning to get up at sunrise.....and walk into town and around the ponds which are scattered about and occupied by snow white egrets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Place to Read......

I brought the books....tons of them....and here is the perfect place to read.....

Quite an old fashioned New England Bedroom

Dining Room

Even a simple dinner of salad...wine...and fresh bread....tastes great in this dining room. And why do the grocery stores in Riverhead......carry three kinds of Polish butter...??? I'm not complaining......I was glad to buy some....but why this haven of Polish butter fat?

No sand on this side of the Island....only smooth pebbles.....

The song of the Sand.

The nomads in the Sahara claimed that the sands could sing.

They attributed the song to Jinns....spirits...that swirled around the dunes. Just before I left for Africa.....an article on the front page of the New York Times...verified what the nomads had known for centuries....yes...the dunes sing....harmonics derived from cascading sand....furthermore they discovered that specific sand.... sing in particular ways....the song of the Sahara is considered a "sweet tune"......the songs from dunes in China..."dull."

Thinking of singing sand....I've wondered if beaches sing. When water meets a particular type of sand, does it create a unique melody?

For some reason....ever since I first strolled on Robert Moses Beach....the sound of the surf sings to me...in a particular way here. The waves sound sharp and crisp and thunderous in comparison to ..for example....Florida waves....which sound thick and fat and warm.

Some physicists believe ....humans vibrate to their own tune....if so...that would mean we could be in or out of sync in certain environments.

I believe....the sands of Robert Moses and I are in sync....there's something about this beach....that puts me ...in a trance like hum.

When I went to the beach I actually had a notebook and pen in my backpack....I have many things to think about on this trip....and I thought the beach would be a perfect place to work on them....instead within a short time.....all I could hear was the sound of the waves....the particular way they sound and hum inside me.....and then ....all I could do is hum back.....be quiet...be still...just walk and hum....the ocean and I singing to each other.

~~~~

A good start to the Big Vacation......

I'm sitting here on the couch in my hotel doing the special beach thigh shuffle.....lift...ah ....lift....ah.....

Damn....I sprayed sun tan lotion all over....when I hit the beach yesterday....but forgot the back of my legs....and I am so paying for my omission....thank god I brought all those skirts.....cause these hot babies are not going to slip into pants today.

My flight out here to Laguardia...was decent as far as airline travel goes....I was only 4-5 hours late....and all my luggage found me. I guess nowadays that considered a successful trip.

Both flights were full....even my little regional airlines flight to Chicago. As I snuggled against the window to give my flying partner more room (she was a large woman)....I had the strange feeling I was on Greyhound bus versus an airplane.

Not that I have a lot of experience on Greyhound ...but I did take a trip on the bus once in college (I'm not sure where ) and I do remember the bus was packed and people carried on all kind of bags and food.

When our plane took off...and the air kicked in....a strange yucky smell....a combo of greasy McDonald's breakfast sandwiches and egg and cheese croissants filled the cabin....which somehow reminded me of that long ago bus travel adventure.

Of course carry on luggage is a big thing now with the extra surcharges...and folks were standing in the aisle reshuffling and beating their bags into submission to fit in the bins.

Sometimes strangers worked together to reorganize a bin...with the advice of seated passengers.....acting like back seat drivers..... "No ...no ...no...but the black bag in head first and slip the red bag not the blue bag next to that one."

All the crowds and congestion....certainly made my layover in Chicago zip by....I'm a devoted people watcher in airports....and now with cell phones.....whether you want to hear it or not....you get dialogue. Shipping orders, phone calls to mom and business meetings.....are all booming in the waiting area.

Since I was sitting at the busy Chicago to LaGuardia gate....the people watching was especially juicy....with a mix of businessmen...tony New Yorkers....and what looked like semi-celebrities....all packed in one area.

I sat next to a couple of businessmen....who had such excellent phone skills....such beautiful diction....and intelligent prater.....I made a mental note to myself....to be more conscious of own my speaking pattern in professional calls.

And what a fashion display....bags ...sunglasses...interesting shoes....but the most interesting look... went to a young man...who was in a plaid suit.

Now a brown and blue plaid suit is enough to lift your eyebrows....but his suit....was skin tight....and ended far above his ankles...plus his jacket was very short....the classic Pee Wee Herman look. He even sported short short hair with just a little tuft for a bang. I noticed some of the business guys smile as he passed by....I imagined they were thinking....ah just let him come in for an interview dressed like that at MY company....lol....

The beach was a fun experience....#5 lot at Robert Moses brimming as always with interesting folks. But I'll write about that later....sorry no personal pics...yet....my iPhone seems to get confused in the NY area...so I haven't been able to send a pic yet...
~~~~~~~~~~

The beach

See Y'all on Long Island.........

Marilyn on Long Island.......Just thought I would clarify that........ since you might have thought it was me already.............

~~~~~~~~~

This ain't gonna work......

These are the books I want to take with me on vacation.....a modest pile consisting of:

an erotic fiction

a regular fiction

two drawing books

one writing book

one nyc book

two self help books

one biography

one humor book

two sketch pads

(no I don't draw but I have this terribly urge to try)

a shell and beach identification book

one architectural/philosophy book

one journal

one slim poetry book.......

I can't imagine going with less...........so now it's come down to...books or things like>>>>>>clothes.

I feel like King Solomon....suggesting the baby might have to be cut in half......will I have to abandon those killer high heels after all?

~~~~~

Demon High Heels insist on going to New York....

Vacation Disassociation.

Took me two days to figure out why I couldn't pack.

See these high heels.....these sweet spiky teasers on my happy feet... ....they were lying in the "probably not going to NY pile".... in my bedroom.

And that was the problem.....

Perhaps I've watched too many Sex and the City episodes....or just get turned on by my mental/fantasy images of life in NYC and the Island.....but a part of me wanted to be packing for this type of vacation....the slinky skirt, the big high heels.....the low cut black top.

And what was actually going into the NY pile? Rugged sandals....t-shirts.....shorts....a sweatshirt. Practical stuff for the beach and just hanging out.

In other words, severe vacation disassociation......Heart and Spirit....versus Logic and Practicality.



So I said...."screw this".....and tossed the demon heels into the suitcase with a silky skirt and the low cut top.

"Remember those new shoes I bought last week?" I asked hub....."I'm taking them with me on vacation".........hoping to plant a seed in his very scientific mind.

But just in case......I emailed my daughter....we'll have a least a day in the city together.

"Sweetie....I'm taking you to a great Italian restaurant for dinner when we
get to the City.Bring something nice to wear....do you have high heels? Bring
them. Love...me"

It's good to be a smart chic.....its better to be a smart sexy chic in big heels.....

at least now and then.

~~~~~

Shiver me Suitcases....It's time to Head out to Long Island.......

5 days and counting........

I can't believe it....I looked at the calender and my eyes popped.

5 days!!!!

After a year of thought and planning....the Big Vacation is days away.

I leave Wednesday....fly into LaGuardia.....rent a car......and spend a few days....before hub arrives on Saturday.....getting some serious things done....like buying a beach umbrella.....stocking up on wine.....and hitting the movie theater to see the Sex and the City flick.

For the last month...I've had some ambivalent feelings about the trip....airfares... gas prices....why didn't I think of hauling everyone down to Florida?? or somewhere in the Mountains? Cheaper ....closer.....less risky.

But the kids have never been to Long Island or New York City....and I know family vacations aren't gauranteed anymore.....besides at the end of October....my wings will get clipped and I'll be returning to the work force ......so this type of escape....won't be possible again for a while.

Today the keys and instructions arrived for both houses..... and all I can say is.... thank god...for the Long Island school system....which keeps the kids chained to their desks till the third week in June......these are beautiful beautiful houses but we pay off-season rent since school is in session....which I believe is the only bargain I'm expecting on this trip.

The North Fork House.....on a hill overlooking the Long Island Sound.

The South Fork House....a block away from the Ocean.

Since it always takes me at least two days to pack for NY.....I started the the suitcase ritual about an hour ago....I can never pack for NY in one swooop......I'll always create these nice dressy outfits to take along......and then the next day....I realize the Rockerfellars aren't expecting us nor will I be dining at the Zagat Survey's best restuarants.....so I add jeans and t-shirts....take out glitz....... and cut the pile in half.

As much as I am looking forward to all this family togetherness and down time for thoughtfulness ....I admit the first thing I packed was my leapord thong...lol...and extra suntan lotion.

Because hub has to depart early and the kids had some last minute changes....I have a few days on my own after the family leaves....do you hear me crying??? ....LOL>>>

My goal... come home without tan lines ...and I know just the beach which will allow me to accomplish that objective.......lol...then I can boast..... I really did some serious vacationing.
~~~~~~

Graduation.

I thought I would break out a bottle of champagne when the baby of the family graduated high school....instead I feel like grabbing for a box of Kleenex.

.

Our son graduated tonight.....and obviously inherited some remote ancestor's genes....cause I'm 5'4" and the kid towers over me by about a foot.

.

We sent him to an all boy catholic high school....and in the tradition of a good catholic school....a thousand folks suffered through the ceremonies in the gym with no air conditioning (the school prides itself on refusing air con offers from wealthy alumni).....they even reminded us .....that it was only 88 degrees outside (and therefore probably only 188 degrees inside).....last year the temp outside was in the 90's.

.

Whatever....rivulets of sweat cascaded down everyone's face.....and in ultra true catholic tradition...they didn't even rent a couple of industrialized fans......why provide a breeze when you can suffer?

.

Fortunately they also pride themselves on quick ceremonies...which meant a 57 minute ceremony. But perhaps in the tradition of guys....they made it too quick and snappy.....because the boys left their caps and gowns on stage....and most of us never got pictures of them in their graduation garb.

.

Perhaps that's for the good in our case.....my son mentioned his gown had to be ironed... minutes before he was supposed to depart ....so in less than 5 minutes....I was supposed to dewrinkle 100 yards of royal blue silky gown material.....no can do......so I increased the temperature on the iron....looked away for a minute... and left a perfect scorch mark....on the back of his gown!!

.

"Don't worry ...don't worry....no one will see Mom."

.

But I felt miserable....sending my son out into the world with a scorch mark on his back....and knowing there were mothers who probably spent the entire day getting nano wrinkles out of their sons' gowns.

.

I was pleased to realized ...a little while later....that a furnace masquerading as a gym... makes all gowns hang in droopy damp folds.

.

Of course there are graduation parties tonight.....so reluctantly I waved him off and told him to be careful....we will have a family celebration this weekend.....

.

but I had this hurt in my heart when I waved....realizing....this was a preview of how the next stage of my life would be....with him.....

.

waving goodbye.... wishing him luck.....and secretly worrying......

it is probably the ultimate graduation gift....to allow and encourage and foster your child....to find his own way....and his own happiness....while still being supportive and loving.

~~~~

Sitting on my Porch in my Underwear........

Last night....around midnight.....I flipped off my t-shirt and shorts.....slid the door open and sat on my back porch.....in my underwear.

If you have ever lived in the south....or visited.....or know anything about this region....you understand offering so much skin to the hungry critters of the southern night is like participating in a human sacrifice.

By morning...expect to be munched down to the bone....with only your skeletal remains left in the lawn chair.

So this was an act of lunacy....or courage.......or...a celebration of a "finally"......as in...we finally got the tree house porch ...the booby prize from our builder....screened.

Let me explain.

We are "transplants"...."Yankees"....."northerners"....."not one of us"....folks.

When we moved here.....our builder.....a huge swaggering opinionated southern man....tried to educate us (mostly me) into the ways of a southern house.

"You can not have a basement..... your house is sitting on a hill.... you're gonna have streams come through it when it rains. You gotta be up up above the ground. I will not put a basement on this house."

Some of our neighbors who share the same hillside did not have stubborn builders and have seasonal springs which pop up in places ...like their basement closets.

We also argued over the color of our bricks. Chicago is famous for a particular type of dark reddish pink brick and missing home.....I wanted pink brick.

This lead to an infamous encounter where Billy...who is at least 6'4".....towered over me (5"4"...on a good day) in the middle of the street in front our partially built house. Dozens of workmen paused....relishing the showdown.

"I DO NOT build pink houses," he boomed. ( The workmen cheered.)

"I want pink bricks."

"Only Italians....and Middle Eastern people....build pink houses in the south....and you ain't Italian or Middle Eastern and I am NOT building a pink house for you."

"It's MY house." (Some grudging cheers for the underdog.)

"Get in the truck... I'm gonna take you around town and show you good brick... so you don't make a stupid mistake that is gonna cost you money when you sell this house."

We drove around..... he stopped at several homes....with tan brick....in fact ...he didn't show me any other color.

I have tan bricks ......and I'm grateful to him... it's a calm soothing color and blends beautifully with the trees and greenery. Pink would have looked...well too pink....and every time I see a pink bricked house I wonder if it's owned by Italians or folks from the Middle East.

By the time we got to the placement of the master bedroom......I think I had worn him down.

"I want my master bedroom upstairs. "

"We don't do that here....you should have your master bedroom on the first floor....that's the custom."

"But we want to be near the kids.....they're small......if they cry....barf....get scared....I don't want them walking around trying to find us."

He was quiet and didn't argue with me.

Later I learned his young son was killed in front of his house by a hit and run driver....and he is Shriner ( a group that raises money for a children's hospital) and has a very soft spot for youngsters.

So the master bedroom was built upstairs.....and to compensate for the obvious resale nightmare we will have some day......he added french doors.....and a small second walk-out deck.

Since my house sits on a hillside.....and my yard is significantly below the house.....this second floor deck....is about 4 stories off the ground....high in the trees.....a tree house porch.

I wanted it screened.

"You don't need screens. I'll put a ceiling fan up there and it'll whop those mosquitoes away."

This time he was wrong.

The fan did not whop the bugs away....any time we tried to sit out there.....the mosquitoes found us...they just took a few minutes longer to locate us in the wind.

So after ten years....of non-use.....I announced a couple weeks ago....we would screen in the tree house porch. It might be a bonus point when we sell the house....and yes....Billy was right....we will be hammered for not having a master suite on the ground floor....but on the other hand.....we heard the barfs....the little feet ran to our room during big storms....we attended coughs and bad dreams....and as they got older....we monitored their night time curfews.

(Now I'm sorry we don't follow the long ago southern tradition found on estates....of building a small cottage away from the main house.....when you male children hit 12...and making them live out there.)

So last night.....with our screened porch only a couple days old....I flaunted my skin.

I sat there watching the waning full moon....I listened to the music of tiny drops of water from a fountain on our main deck....I smiled at the far-off whip o'will singing....I sat high up in the trees.....and let the cool slight damp air....paint me.

Then.... I turned the ceiling fan on.....for no reason.


~~~~~~~

Squeak if you're famous........

I work at one of the biggest bookstores in my state. Because of our size and location.....it's not uncommon to see an ex-governor, a senator....or some local media person wandering in our store.

Yesterday I looked up and immediately recognized the handsome man in front of me.

"Hello General"

He smiled and then we huddled over the store's computer screen looking for a particular book. I've met Wesley Clark a couple of times and I'm always impressed(with his small tight waistline) as well as the sharp no-nonsense intelligent vibes he emits.

Up to last week....my best story of a celebrity customer centered around Nicholas Sparks. I was doing the dreaded cash register duty when a very handsome man signed his credit card slip and asked...."Do you have any of my books?"

"Well who are you?"

He turned the receipt around and I read his signature. By coincidence.... we had a few of his new hardcover books stacked behind the cash register.... I grabbed one.....turned the book over and compared the full color picture to the man in front of me.

"Oh my god....it's you!!"

I'm sure he knew it was him all along.

He was nice enough to conduct an impromptu signing where several women swooned as he personalized greetings to them. My inscription says, "With Love....Nicholas Sparks" which embarrassed me because I considered his books cheesy sentimental chic lit and barely made it through The Notebook.

Of course after his affirmation of intense feelings for me......I modified my opinion and now consider him a master of sentimental chic lit...(I dropped the cheesy.)

Last week....a small gray rather gruff man asked for a non-fiction book. I had one in the store but it was already reserved for a customer.

"Can I have that one?" he asked.

"No no......that book is a special order for someone."

He shrugged.....sighed.....and reluctantly agreed to place an order.

"Phone number.....name please"

Charles.........P.......o .....r.....t....i....s

My eyes did the saucer thing. My head put the pieces together....old guy....unassuming....famous for his reclusive nature........I looked up from the screen and right into his eyes and said....

"Eeeeek"

Really.....I meet the famous author of True Grit.....who's considered to be a literary icon by many writers......and do I say ...."Hello..."......do I promote myself and say....."Oh ...I wrote an article about your work a couple years ago"........do I say.....a simple....."Nice to meet you?"

No....I eeeeeek him....like a mouse who's tail just got stepped on.

Eeeeek.

Damn.

He walked away....... leaving me in my saucer-eyed stage. I quickly pointed him out to a co-worker.

"Oh how cool.....what did you say to him?"

I felt a little color rise in my neck.

"Eeeek."

"You said what to him?"

"I said.....Eeeek"

"You Eeeeeked Charles Portis?"

"I Eeeked Charles Portis."

We both sighed.

Well....maybe I'll get a second chance......to say something appropriate to him.... when he comes to pick up his order.

"Hi....Remember me? The Eeeeker? Good to see you again."
~~~~~~~

Continuing the "interesting baking" theme.....human parts bread

Given a choice between mammary cupcakes and human parts breads....it's hands down (or hands on) the milky tasting tatas.....

A bakery artist in Thailand has apparently mastered the technique of scaring his customers all the time......and not by disclosing the fat content of the baked goods.

Human parts bread is made from regular dough which he sculpts and shapes and obviously applies a a base coat of frosting then special frosting highlights.

The parts are sculpted.....painted .....then wrapped for sale. No sales figures were given....but is there a big market for this type of baked goods?

I'm sure as a novelty (particularly around Halloween if he had a store in the U.S.) I can see sales to the roof....but how many people want to smear butter on a bloody head or foot for breakfast?

"Pass me a bruised lip.... honey.....I'm real hungry this morning."

~~~~

Wiring......

"Don't put your finger in there."

Smile.

"Now listen to Mommy and don't put your finger in the little holes."

Smile.

Continues to insert finger in little hole.

This little guy....now 6'3......the baby of the family....turned 18 today.....18...which means I'm at least 30 ...lol....especially if I claim angelic intervention and virgin birth.

The baby graduates from high school next week and heads off to Iowa State....to study computers/engineering....something the boys and girls up in the corn fields up there do very well.

Because of some gross misrepresentations of his where abouts.....for the last month.....I took back his car ....until we could come to some agreement about his choices and habits.....
.
"Alright hand me your car keys."

Smile.

"You are not getting the car back until we come to some agreement here."

Smile.

I looked at him and thought...my god nothing has changed.

~~

Mammary Cupcakes for Guys and Gals on the Go.....

For the timid bi-curious woman or lustful male....you can have your cake, your fantasy....and eat it too.

From Japan....cupcakes purportedly with a “milky taste.”

Eat them in private at home.....or nibble on them at work and have your co-workers think a lot about you.....in a lot of different ways.



380 Yen....or about $2.00 a boob. (Betcha can’t eat just one.....)

Notice they come in two shapes just like in real life....natural and super-sized.




Notice just like in real life.....what natural women think of super-sized women.
~~~~~

Get Me to a Metal shoppe..........Quick

Holy shit....get me an iron suit maties.......I want to be Iron Woman!!

.

Just came home from seeing Iron Man (hey I live with three men.....Vegas or Baby Momma wasn't even an option for Mother's Day)......and I just succumbed to Robert Downey Jr.

.

I loved the character development.....I loved those liquid brown eyes and those long eye lashes.....and could Jeff Bridges be more evil????

.

And you know what else I loved......if you've seen the movie.....did you see Gwyneth Paltrow's stiletto heels....awesome....yes.......BUT ......omg......what was the most fabulous part of seeing her walk in those heels.....

.

Come on now.....

.

Think hard.......

.

Here's a hint.......

.

What didn't she do??????????

.

she was the hero's girlfriend.... she was wearing high heels and she DIDN'T......

.

(this is significant)

.

(spoiler alert)

.

she didn't fall down and hurt her ankle!!!!!!!!!!!

.

thus providing an opportunity for the hero to come back and carry her.....OR preventing her from doing something important....like pressing a red button.....to blow up a place.

.

I am so thrilled.....

.

finally a woman who doesn't fall down and hurt her ankle in an adventure flick......

.

It's a great step for all women ....who can run and NOT fall down.....

.

(or do you think they are saving "the fall" for Iron man 2???)

~~~~~

My Ancient Mothers......Mutts of Mesopotamia.....

I've always been fascinated by my origins.

As a kid...I wanted to know where my grandparents were from....how did they get to America.....who settled where.

Unfortunately, both sets of grandparents ...who were born in the Eastern Europe....were stubbornly opposed to sharing information.

"Why you want to know this?" They'd ask...."It's past, it's no good."

Coming to America meant transformation....and my grandparents did not want to look back.

My father has told me a few things about his parents from Lithuania....but my mother actually destroyed letters and documents from her side of the family in Poland... who were from the Krakow/Warsaw area.

I have.... through the years....picked ...poked....and saved small bits of information which I hope to assemble some day and if I win the lottery I would love to hire one of those family researchers.

Recently....I came across an article about the National Geographic DNA project and participated in a mtdna testing to trace my clan origins. Mtdna testing is based on maternal mitochondria...and hence is from your ancient mothers.

Overall....I'm from a group of people....who migrated out of Africa (that's everybody...lol) and into the fertile crescent in the Middle East.....then came up into Europe between the Black and Caspian Sea.....then into Russia and Eastern Europe.

My particular markers showed that my Ancient Mothers were prominent in the section of the Middle East encompassing Mesopotamia and the Fertile Crescent.....so they could have been Babolynian....Assyrian...or Israelites or some combo....(in other words mutts of Mesopotamia)

The National G testing is so general.....it doesn't provide mutations and subgroups ...so I really can't say much more than I have this Middle Eastern component.

But trust me......it took less than a minute to fantasize rich stories about my ancient mothers....(is that why I think Babylonian/Assyrian art is so cool?)......lol......AND you can go to web pages where lots of other people who had some genetic testing are fantasizing too.

One page stated that one dna "strand" I have....could be from the matriarchal line of Rachel in the Old Testament.....hot spit I thought....lol....a royal ancient line....but then I read on....and discovered ....nah........there were too many other variables to consider......and there was more wishful thinking than science involved involved in the page.

At some point....my Ancient mothers got restless (and probably bored with the men in Mesopotamia) and wandered north.

Without more specific testing....I don't know whether they came early into Europe about 10,000 years ago.....or late like a few thousand years ago. If they came early...they could be part of a bunch of tough chics.....who settled into Russia along the Ural Mountains then drifted east.....if they came late....oy...some of them could be part of the Jewish Diaspora.

My particular subgroup....doesn't form a big part of the European population...only 10%...so I don't know why there are so few of them...did something happen?? or where they just part of a very small group of people who migrated into Europe???.......and I'm not sure anybody has answers at this point because the literature is confusing and technical and much more testing needs to be done.

A fair amount of Russian nobility has my subgroup......which could mean....I have a few "royal" mothers ......of course....sex is sex.......and it also could mean I came from a frisky group of royal chambermaids or courtesans....who excelled at playing with noble lads.

I like knowing where I came from...where my ancient links might be......I'm thinking in a year or two....of doing a more specific test...and this summer when I visit my folks again....I'm going to get my Dad tested..it would be interesting to know if the lines are the same....or did some of me come from someplace else?
~~~~~~~~~~

Ms. Action-Oriented Admits She's NOT READY

What???....I looked at the calender and freaked.

.

In exactly three weeks....May 28 ......(my birthday)....

.

I'm leaving for New York and the Big Family Vacation.

.

I've been so busy being life's ping pong ball the last couple

months....with my parents' failing health, my daughter's student loan fiasco, pets dying....storms wanting to blow down my house....I am not ready.

.

Okay....I'll repeat that....Ms. Action-Oriented....Ms. Organized is not ready.

.

The Little Folder that says.....Family Vacation....lacks.

.

Car rentals, NYC hotels, and even a plane ticket for the youngest son is not there. ( The strategy of waiting for the summer sales on air fare was a complete failure)

.

Since I'm arriving a few days ahead of the troops.....maybe I should plan to buy lots of wine and beer and good food...and hope they won't notice....they're walking the 52 miles from the Long Island airport to the beach house

.

Hmmm.......Maybe I should drink all that wine.....and not care.......what they think......lol.....

~~~

humor less

Woow......I was humor less for a few days.

Scary shit ....


but I saw this new toy for the bathroom......called...."shower boobs"

a shampoo and bath gel dispenser

which made me laugh....

man...think how high my water bills would be if I had these installed in our showers.....for two teen boys and a hub.

WOOW.



~~~

Getting erased.....

I'm back home now....after a few days in Chicago to assess my mother's mental health status and my parent's overall well-being.

There is good news and there is bad news.

The good news is....my worse fears....that my mom was in some type of mental health crisis..... because she refused to talk to me on the phone for months now.....were not true.

The bad news is......she's not talking to me because she has somewhat disowned me and my children.....and I believe she is in the first stage of dementia.....experiencing delusions, paranoia and some memory loss.

The first evening I was there....I was genuinely surprised at how perky and talkative and together my mom was ....with one exception...... she kept calling me "Crissy" ...which is my daughter's name. When I corrected her....she just laughed and said.... I looked so young she was confusing me with my daughter.

Happy she seemed so well.....I planned a visit the next morning to the Chicago Art Institute and the special Edward Hopper exhibition.

I didn't bring any toiletries .....so I was on my hands and knees in her bathroom the next morning looking for shampoo.... when I noticed a picture frame in the cabinet.

I pulled it out....and found it was my middle son's graduation picture. I could see another frame....this time with a picture of my daughter in it. I was sure these pics had been in the living room.....but ......my mom is always rearranging her nick knacks....so I put them back.

I was heading out the door.....in a rush to catch the train .....when I realized I had left my phone on my bed....rushing down the hallway.....to my room....I looked up and realized there was a huge bulky new mirror at the end of the hallway.....where my high school graduation picture had hung.....my picture was gone.

And then something registered...and I walked back into their family room......and noticed all the pictures of my children....which hung on one wall ....had been replaced by pictures of.... dogs. My big Weimeramer, my Springer Spaniel....and three pictures of the mixed cockapoo....I had given my parents.

I stepped into the living room....more pictures removed. The only pictures that remained of me and my children....were baby pictures. We were erased after our toddler years.

I was stunned.....I got in the car with my dad.......finally I asked him.......Dad....why are my pics gone? and all the pics of the kids?

He sheepishly looked at me... and said....your mother had me move them.

Why?

He shrugged.

I boarded the train and felt like iron bars were on my heart. By the time I got inside the museum....my body was so heavy....I could barely walk....so I sat on a marble bench and texted my hub. I wasn't sure .....what hurt more...my mother disowning me and the kids for some irrational reason.....or my father....not protecting/defending us.

My text was probably alarming.....because my hub called me immediately.... as soon as I said the word... hello... it was like a dam bursting.....I sobbed....Iblithered....I coated my iPhone interface with snot.....it was not pretty.

One of the guards started hovering nearby so I cut the call short...I thought he might ask me to leave. Worse .....when I looked up....I realized I was crying at the foot of a gigantic bronze Greek god....some naked dude with his little limp penis....pointing at me.

I found a new bench.....without naked men and penises ....and sat for a long time thinking about my mom.....let's just say Augustan Burroughs isn't the only person who could write memoirs.....about dysfunctional parents....and I had been down this road in some form before.....and now...sadly.....even my children could not escape.

I came to some conclusions....steadied myself.....and headed off to the Hopper exhibition....which was stunning...amazing...and yes...I can testify....art can save you...by filling your heart and head with universals that go beyond your own small life. I realized by the time I left....I wasn't the only person....to face this type of crisis with parents.

The next day I had lunch with a friend....who gave me some terrific advice....concerning boundaries and making decisions about how much of yourself you will give to care for your parents.....and suggested some resources.

I listened to my mom carefully over the next couple days.....her insistence that "house guests" had stolen her jewelry....her memory lapses...

I talked to my dad....who is in denial....and simply agrees with whatever strange ideas my mom has.... so as not to "get her upset."

I laid in bed at night reading articles on dementia.

Today....at the airport and on my flight....I decided on a list of things to do in the short term.....things I can find out via the Internet.....and if my dad authorizes it....I can call her doctor and ask for an geriatric mental evaluation...since we need a baseline. I colored a day on my calender next week.....to work on some things. Since I'm an only child....this stuff ain't going to disappear.

I realize the train wreck can happen....any day.....but at least at this point ....there are a few options.... a few switches to pull....I'm not sure there is anything else to do.
~~~