Mrs. B's Brilliant Blog

Type. Window. Comprehend

2012-01-26T23:18:00.005-05:00

When The Fate Scheduler died, he didn’t expect to find what he found. Of course, he didn’t expect to die in the first place, nor was he The Fate Scheduler at that time. He was merely a normal type of guy of an average age, living by himself after a difficult divorce and mostly bumping along the bottom trying to stay out of everyone’s way. He’d learned over the course of his life that he was happy and content to be by himself; not having to contend with the drama that comes from having people with their messy problems and issues complicating his neat and orderly existence. In fact, one of the primary reasons his ex wife cited for why she left him was that he reminded her too much of Felix Unger, the fastidious and somewhat prissy character from that old TV show “The Odd Couple”. He took somewhat offense at this as, although he was known to be a bit on the compulsive side when it came to cleanliness (whether it be his person or his surroundings), he did not view himself as prissy. Then again, she likely didn’t view herself as a bulldog, either; which is what he thought of whenever he saw her. This, and an overwhelming feeling of self-reproach. Not because their marriage had failed, but because he’d married her in the first place.

After he died, he was surprised to discover that he didn’t remember dying. He’d been standing in his small galley type kitchen in his compact one bedroom apartment looking through his collection of cookbooks, of which he had many. He’d been searching for one in particular, the one given to him by a co-worker last year at his company’s annual holiday party and gift exchange. Normally, he walked away from this exchange with something he considered to be pretty much useless; a huge bottle of some offense smelling aftershave, a quite horrid sweater (this turned out to be an unexpected bonus when he wore it to an Ugly Sweater Contest one of his few friends had, in July of all months, and won a $50 gift card to Barnes and Noble), a box of stale Girl Scout Cookies and a collection of Christmas Tree ornaments which had the appearance of being made by either the giver’s three year old child or their dog, he couldn’t decide which. But, this particular time, he’d received the cookbook from her; one he could and would actually use as it replaced one he’d utilized so often that it had completely fallen apart.

It was interesting, he’d been musing right before he died, that someone he barely knew had somehow known what he’d most appreciate. Thankfully, thankfully; he’d not drawn her name in return as he would not have been as astute. Instead, he'd picked an office secretary who was kind enough to him and he’d spent sufficient time talking to in the break room to guess she’d appreciate a box of Godiva chocolates.

What did he know of her, this cookbook bestower? Only these few things: She sat in a cubicle next to a window several rows from his own. He found himself thinking of her at odd and random moments, despite the fact that he’d hardly spoken to her. Her ability to pick out the perfect gift was a wonderful thing about her that he did not fully comprehend. He didn’t think of her by her name but, rather, by her aroma; The Girl Who Smelled Of Pine.

Flutter. Mouth. Vinegar.

2012-01-13T22:01:00.005-05:00

I wasn’t in the best of moods when the phone rang. I had just come into the house, stomping my feet free of the dead leaves that had attached to my shoes from the short walk from the backyard where the truck was parked to the mudroom.

I was mad at my cousin for ruining yet another opportunity to get out somewhere together and have a meaningful day. It had started out ok; I’d picked her up in town. At that time, the sun was out, and, although the late fall weather was brisk, the sky was clear with no sign of the clouds which may harbor either rain or snow this time of year.

For once, she’d been on time and was waiting for me at the curb in front of her apartment building. She climbed into the truck and gave me a brief air kiss before settling into the seat and latching her seat belt. We drove off in the direction of the interstate which would eventually lead us, approximately two hours later, to a somewhat run down amusement park. This wasn’t my idea of a fantastic time; driving several hours to some seedy place to ride a rickety old wooden roller coaster, but, hey, I was doing my best to get along with her, and hitting amusement parks was one of her favorite things to do.

When I’m in the car by myself, I almost always listen to a book on CD. It passes the time, plus, I’ve found I tend to read books in the car that I otherwise never would. Today, however, I’d decided that if my cousin chose to enter into a conversation with me, I’d forego the book and be happy with a chat. If not, I’d just pop the CD in.

After fifteen minutes or so of a somewhat stilted going nowhere conversation, I did just that. My cousin immediately turned to me and said, “You KNOW I can’t stand reading in the car, it makes me car sick!” I rolled my eyes at her. “Come on. You’re not actually reading, you’re listening. How can this be any different than tuning in to a radio station? Besides, this is a really good book. I’ll tell you what”, I added as I leaned over and switched off the CD. “I’m not that far into it. I’ll fill you in on what’s going on and we can take it from there. Ok?” I glanced over at her. Her face was set in an expression that I knew all too well. Crap.

“I really, really don’t want to listen to a book”, she huffed. “Fine”, I said. “But at least let’s talk or something, we still have almost two hours before we reach the park”.

Silence.

I snapped. Without saying another word, I turned the car around and drove her ass back to her apartment building. She got out, flipped me the bird, and flounced up the stairs to the door.

I gave her a finger flutter of my own and thought, “Fine by me. Fine by me.”

So, walking into my door twenty or so minutes after that and hearing the annoying ringing of the phone just irritated the heck out of me. I threw my purse, gloves, coat, truck keys; the whole shebang, on the floor in a fit of pique and marched over to the phone. Snatching it up, I turned a quarter-circle and saw myself in the hallway mirror. My mouth was set in an ugly line which didn’t do much for my appearance. Softening my expression somewhat, I said briskly rather than brusquely, “Hello?”

There was quite a bit of static on the other end and I couldn’t tell if there was someone on the line or not. “Hello? Hello?” I repeated several times before I finally heard a voice, made scratchy from either the static or years of heavy smoking, reply “Mrs. Henderson?”

“No, no, there’s no Mrs. Henderson here, you’ve got the wrong number” I made to hang the phone up without waiting for a response when a loud burst of static, followed by a shout by the scratchy voice stilled my hand. “DON’T hang up!”, the voice warned. “Don’t!”

There was something odd about that voice. It wasn’t merely scratchy, I thought to myself, it was somewhat tinny sounding; like the person was talking from inside some tightly enclosed space or from very far away. For some reason, I thought of Cole Porter.

“What is it you want?” I said. “I already told you, you’ve got the wrong number”.

“Mrs. Henderson”, it replied. “We’re calling to let you know that there is an escaped inmate that’s been spotted near your house”.

“We’re?” I repeated. There was more noise from the other end of the phone. I wasn’t sure, but, I thought I heard laughter in the background.

“Ok, fine, I get it, this is some prank call. Well, ha-ha funny-funny, but let me tell you, I’m not in the best mood right now so---”

“No, let us tell you, Mrs. Henderson”, the voice interrupted. “You’re not in the best PLACE right now”.

I looked outside the front picture window and could see that it was now pitch dark outside. As I stood there holding the phone watching the night, I saw movement near the big oak tree. My stomach roiled and I tasted vinegar in my mouth. In a moment, irritation bled to fear and I decided it was time to hang up.

I crashed the receiver down into the cradle and headed back towards the mudroom , stopping to frantically kneel down and dig around in the pile stuff I’d thrown on the ground for the keys to the truck. Finding them, I raced on, passing through the kitchen and almost tripping on the cat.

It was the cat that stopped me as he was just lying there, as he always did this time of night, waiting for his supper. Aren’t animals supposed to pick up on danger? He certainly didn’t seem perturbed, and, he hated loud noises. Shouldn’t the phone ringing have sent him scurrying under the bed?

Phone. Phone. Phone.

I turned and looked back at the hallway table.

There was no phone. The only phone I had was a cell phone.

And it was in the truck.

When One Feels Like Crap...

2012-01-11T21:07:00.005-05:00

...it's hard to give a darn.

Seriously, funny; not ha ha funny but conversationally funny, how it is that when you are not feeling well, nothing else matters.

Not the to do list.

Not the usual routine.

Not eating well, working out, etc.

Unfortunately, this cyst thingie I had several years ago reared its ugly head a few days ago. I was able to suck it up for a while but it became fairly painful yesterday afternoon.

I got smart and made an appointment to see a PA (dermo) tomorrow.

In the meantime, Vicodin and booze. I know. Probably not what I should do, but, cripe. It hurts like a MO FO. I am grouchy. All will be happier this way.

How in the heck did people manage with this stuff back in the oh, 1500s or so or even earlier? I think I would have thrown meself off the battlements!

Mrs. B

Tossing the Old Address Book

2012-01-02T09:40:00.005-05:00

I recently bought a new one as the predecessor was getting quite ratty; pages torn, names written under the wrong letter category, names crossed out, etc.

I sat down the other day; New Year's Eve it was, to transcribe the addresses from the old to the new. I went letter by letter, and, as I was doing so, ran across many, many entries of folks that I simply haven't been in touch with for quite a while. Also, there were several people written in there that are no longer walking on this Earth.

I decided to NOT put those I haven't heard from (most of these are people I've attempted to stay in touch with but they have not reciprocated) into the new book. Life's too short to hold on to people who don't care about you. When the task was done, I threw the old book into the trash. Gone. So, if I ever do speak to any of them again, it will have to be on their initiative.

I'll admit, it was a difficult thing to do.

Mrs. B

Jewel of the Seas Aft Balcony 1102 12.15.11

2011-12-21T18:07:00.001-05:00

Almost got an eyeful there at the end...which is why there is another video showing the bathroom :-)

Mrs. B

The Jewel is a Gem!: Part One

2011-12-21T17:06:00.009-05:00

We're back from our cruise; actually, we returned B&E this past Monday am. Alas, it was too, too, short BUT it sure was a lot of fun. I think there is something about having to cram a bunch of enjoyment into a short period of time that tends to make the days more memorable.

We dropped The Kid off at Tampa International around 11:00 am. Sorry to see her go; Mr. B was sad, of course. I was very glad that we were heading to the ship, otherwise, it would have been pretty darn depressing.

It took less than 20 minutes to get from the airport to the Port of Tampa. As it was when we took Jewel's sister ship Radiance out of Tampa this past January, embarkation was a total snap. They really have it down pat. We were on the ship before noon!

Now, here is a somewhat odd thing. Although we were told by one of the bartenders that the ship was full, it seemed amazingly empty throughout the entire cruise, even on the sea days where there is nowhere else for the PAX to be but on the ship. Our new friend Pam said maybe there were a lot of Florida residents on board (read:old) who were staying in their staterooms because it was a bit chilly that first day.

In any case, we went up to the Windjammer (buffet) for an early lunch. Other than going in there on occasion to get a quick bite to take back to the pool area, we stayed clear of the Windjammer. No matter how uncrowded the ship may be, all of the rude and pushy folks seem to end up in there.

Directly after lunch, we headed to one of our favorite bars, The Schooner Bar, on Deck Six. I ordered my first Frozen Mojito of the cruise but for some reason, it wasn't exactly right. Too much lime, no mint. Anyway, we chatted with the bartender for a bit. As is the case with the majority of crew members, he was not from the U.S., but, rather, from Estonia. He asked how many cruises we've taken (this was our 4th together), he said he's taken over 500! Well, of course! It's his job! Anyway, he highly recommended we consider one of the cruises that goes from London to Paris to Norway to Russia.

A bit after 1:00 pm, we were able to get into our stateroom up on Deck 10 (aft balcony). Being Jewel is a sister ship to Radiance and our room was right next to the one we were on in January, there wasn't much surprise with our accommodations. The one difference was a very positive one; the shower had a door instead of the butt-crack invading shower curtain that was on Radiance.

Although I just posted a video of our stateroom, here are a few pictures of #1102.

No pole dancing in this room!

I wonder why they even bother with those "tables"?

Dinky but serviceable bathroom

Best part of the room

Port of Tampa

Already on the phone (actually, he was talking to our vet about some shots Lucy needed)

Wiped out already?

As usual, I'd ordered a bottle of Champagne for our room. It was there (along with our bottled water and coupon booklet) but what WASN'T there was ice!

Ice-less Champagne. First time this has happened! Note the "Contact Stateroom Attendant If You Need Ice" sign. DUH!

This actually became an issue as it took forever and a day to get ice and then the ice we got was pretty scant in quantity. As it turns out, we didn't end up drinking the Champagne until the next night and, in fact, I ended up drinking it with my new friend Pam while Mr. B smoked a cigar with her husband and their friend Fish.

Yes, The B's made some new friends on this cruise! We'd told ourselves prior to sailing that we were going to branch out; rather than keep to ourselves, we'd attempt to meet and mingle. Weeks before the cruise, I signed onto the thread for the sailing and met and chatted with many people online (similar to what I did for the Enchantment sailing where we ended up meeting a few people and going on a private excursion with them in the Dominican Republic).

Turns out there were to be several ladies all born in 1963 on board plus a few other people celebrating b-days. There were also some pretty interesting characters posting on the board; I can't resist copying one post here:

"DH wants me to drive his new truck from Grand Rapids for my flight instead of my old car. So, I boiled him a cow tongue this morning to use for lunch meat or quick dinner while I'm gone. I will be wearing some Mardi Gras beads and an elf hat".

Not to be mean or catty, but, she was an unusual lady. More on her and our new friends and cruise adventures next posting as I gotta run now.

Mrs. B

Gone Sailing!

2011-12-15T08:22:00.002-05:00

Can You See The Lily?

2011-12-07T18:11:00.002-05:00

Update on LIFE

2011-12-05T09:37:00.011-05:00

I've not forgotten my pledge to write more often however LIFE is getting in the way. Is it such a bad thing, to have so many activities going on that I don't have time to sit on my butt in front of the computer and write? Probably not. There's always Busy Season for that (when I become a CPA Widow).

Of course, this year (or, next year), will be quite different from that regard. And, speaking of such, we've both been busily working to get Mr. B's official website launched. Soon! Quite a bit of re-writing/editing, but, the end result will be, hopefully, exactly what we want. More on that later.

The B's had a fantastic Thanksgiving weekend spent with both the Senior B's (and extended B Family) and Mr. H (Mrs. B's Father). Lucy came along for the weekend and also had a grand time. Unfortunately, Mrs. B forgot to take ANY pictures of that fun weekend, save one I took of my first attempt at making a Pumpkin Pie Martini and one taken after we got home and one of Mr. B and Lucy wiped out after several full days of Thanksgiving cheer.

That evening, we went to an Advent service at our new church. Not only did we go to the service, we participated in it; the "Hanging of the Greens" tradition. I was trying to recall if I'd ever done this before in my youth (back when I used to go to church); I don't think so. In any case, the B's hung a wreath and I'm happy to report that (at least as of yesterday morning), it's still hanging! We also discovered that it's indeed a small world. One of our neighbors on The Loop also attends this church, as does a business contact Mr. B recently made.

Now we're into the full throttle of preparations for the Christmas season. We're both trying, though, to keep it simple; no need for us to get caught up in the frenzy. Even so, there is plenty enough to do. I've started the holiday cookie baking; I wasn't going to do this, however, I received a few special requests, so, I buckled! Honestly, I do enjoy it.

Mickey Doodle! My Snicerdoodles were spreading upon baking more than usual. Pulled the sheet out of the oven to find this! Mickey had an emergency ear amputation and all is now well.

This past weekend, we got serious about decorating. Mr. B brought all of the Christmas boxes down from the attic and we spent several hours putting things up and about. Although our space is smaller here, we managed to get the majority of it placed. It did take a bit longer than usual,though, since we were working with new space and had to figure out WHERE things look best. Frankly, some stuff may get moved around some :-) The big thing remaining is our tree. Dilemma! In year's past, we've ALWAYS had a real tree. However, two things posed a problem here. First, the real trees are very, very expensive plus I'm not sure how fresh they really are since they have to be shipped (probably from NC!) Second, there is not an obvious place in our new home for a tree. After quite a lot of consideration, we decided to buy a fake tree, but, no just any fake tree, we purchased a flat back tree so we could place it up against a wall, thus saving on space. Hopefully after it's all decked out, it'll look real enough. I guess though, this means I have to go out and buy some of those balsam/fir air fresheners so our house will smell like a tree.

Maybe next year, we'll buy a small real tree for the lanai. We'll see.

All the pets are doing well, as evidenced by this picture (Athena DOES exist, she's just camera shy!) And, yes, Pete really does look this grouchy all of time.

Busy week ahead; I have an Opera Guild holiday lunch to attend Tuesday; that night, we were invited to go with a group of neighbors to dinner and a Christmas Pageant. We're going to a holiday open house held by our pool ladies Friday night. Our new tree should arrive Thursday so we'll be able to decorate it this coming weekend. The Kid arrives on the following Tuesday for a quickie visit; we'll drop her off at the airport on the 15th and then head to the Port of Tampa to get onto Jewel of the Seas for our four night cruise.

When we get home, it'll then be time to prepare for Christmas, house guests, good meals, etc., etc. It's a bit busy, but, it's all good!

Mrs. B

Hay. Soar. Murder.

2011-11-18T15:34:00.006-05:00

She edged out the door, hoping not to disturb her sleeping mother. The door squealed in protest; she held her breath and turned to glance back to see if this had awakened Mam. Poor Mam, she looked so dreadfully grey and tired lying there on the small cot. And old. She looked old. But, she was not awake, thank the good Lord. Elizabeth went out into the grayish late November afternoon, closing the heavy door softly behind her.

She made her way over to the barn, which loomed in front of her, dilapidated, sagging at its sides, but still surprisingly strong and erect for such an abandoned structure. And, abandoned it was; ever since Papa died and that one never-ending late summer/early fall three years ago when she and Mam attempted, fruitlessly as it turned out, to reap the harvest and keep the barn stocked with hay for their meager menagerie of live stock.

She wasn’t sure why she was interested in going to the barn; she hated the barn. Not just because it was a physical reminder of their failure; in fact, it had nothing to do with that at all. She hated it now because she used to love being inside its wall so very much. That was ages and ages ago, when she was a young and foolish girl of eleven. After her chores were done, after the mid-day meal was eaten and the dishes were cleared, washed, dried and put away into the old Hoosier pie safe; Mam would nod her head at Elizabeth, signaling it was fine for her to go the barn to explore, play and dream.

Now, as she wandered into its musty depths, she had to brace herself against the involuntary shudder that rolled over her. How could she have ever loved this terrible place? She closed her eyes against the rush of painful memories; those that had completely overtaken the pleasant ones from her girlhood. Overcome, she leaned against one of the empty stalls for support. She closed her eyes and could still smell the scent of long gone animals. Ghost horses. What were their names? She couldn’t recall.

The sound of scuttling overhead brought her back to the present. Her eyes snapped open and upwards towards the hay loft. She didn’t want to look there and it wasn’t for fear of seeing a rat or two. Yet, as strangely as she was drawn to the barn in the first place, she found her feet moving her towards the creaky ladder that led up to the loft.

As she climbed, she got a glimpse of the double doors at the far end of the hayloft. Amazingly, despite the multitude of storms they’d had over the past several years since the barn had been in use, they were still tightly latched. Still sitting on the ground next to the closed doors was her old beat-up steamer trunk, the one that had once belonged to Mam’s younger sister.

How she’d loved to kneel in front of that ancient thing, using it as a desk of sorts, and pretend she was a famous writer. She’d written a lot of silly pieces there, young girl starry eyed notions of adventure, romance and true love conquering all. Still, she’d also enjoyed the view from that vantage. She’d open up the doors and stare out at the great wide open; looking west towards the trees that stood silent sentry in the distance or glancing up into the blue skies while dreaming she was a mystical creature, a girl with wings, who could soar like a bird over Coozie’s Creek to the south.

Now, her trunk was covered with cobwebs and rat droppings.. And, all of those silly, silly dreams? Those stupid, stupid stories? The person that she was now, the woman that she’d become, looked back into the past and felt both scorn and an immense sadness for the young girl who had no idea what was to come.

She walked over to the doors, undid the rusty latch, and flung the doors open with such force that both doors crashed into the side of the barn with a loud THUNK that echoed across the quickly darkening evening sky. She approached the edge of the loft floor; as close to the gaping opening as she dared, and peered out. The view was still breathtaking. She could see miles in every direction. To the south, the glistening silvery trail of Coozie’s Creek. To the north, the spire of the town’s church. And to the west, just visible arising from the tops of the trees in the forest, wisps of smoke from the Childress’s cabin.

“That family”, Mam had declared one day when Elizabeth was still in the habit of playing with dolls on the kitchen floor while Mam fixed supper, “Is decidedly odd”. Papa, sitting nearby, grunted; whether in agreement, disagreement or just his Papa grunt which usually meant, “Yes, my dear”, Elizabeth never knew.

As her eyes grew accustom to the growing darkness, she watched the smoke from their cabin continue to drift up, up, up to where she couldn’t distinguish where it ended and the loaming sky began. She stood there a very long time remembering what Calvin Childress had introduced her to in this very loft the winter after Papa died. Mam had been right; and Elizabeth knew now exactly how odd and how disturbed at least one of the Childress clan was.

As she recalled, her eyes narrowed sharply and her thoughts turned to murder.

Mrs. B

Writing Exercises

2011-11-17T09:29:00.005-05:00

Over the years, I've both attended classes and read books that purported to teach one how to write, or, if one already knew how to write, how to either instill discipline to the writing process, develop a personal style, publish something that's already been written, etc., etc. Like many explorations and excursions in my life, I would typically go gang-busters for a month or so afterwards, only to have the enthusiasm eventually peter out, to be replaced by some other new adventure.

This morning I opened up my Blog and was somewhat aghast to see I've not posted anything for almost two weeks and what I have posted in the last month or so has been relatively weak. In all seriousness, I do have things to write about; in fact, several things, many of which are in mid-production and floating somewhere on my hard drive. I also tend to wake up in the middle of the night thinking about a dream I just had and say to myself, "Wow, you should write about THIS!" But, by the time I get around to sitting down at my computer, either the ability to recall the dream or the desire to write about it has vanished; replaced by thoughts of "What is on my to do list for today?"

I do have many things I'd like to accomplish today; but, I told myself while out walking Lucy this morning that I'd allow myself until 10:00 am to "dork around" on the computer with email, Facebook, checking out various web sites, reading the morning paper, etc. After doing much of these things (except reading the paper), I clicked on my Blog and thus began this particular entry/train of thought.

My first inclination after seeing that my last post was Friday November 4th was to go to my stock pile of past writing pieces and post something, anything, that appeared (to me at least) to be relatively interesting. Of course, in fact, this is something like cheating; somewhat similar to someone using a picture from many many years ago to represent what they look like today. While browsing through these files, I came across a spreadsheet I haven't opened up in a very long time. The idea came from a class I took at Duke way back in 2004; a bunch of random words listed in columns. For the life of me, I can't remember now if the words are supposed to follow any sort of pattern and I don't know if I came up with them or they were provided by the instructor (likely a bit of both). What I do remember is, you're supposed to put each of the words on a slip of paper, put all of the slips into some sort of container, and, when you want to write but you are stuck for ideas, pull out two or three of the slips of paper and free write for fifteen or twenty minutes about whatever comes to your mind. So, pulling a few random words of my spreadsheet by way of example, I might end up with "Hay" "Soar" and "Murder" as prompts.

And, speaking of free writing, I also recall from a book I read that it is a MUST to sit down every day and simply free write. Whether it be from prompts or just what may be running through your brain, you must do it to keep in shape; similar to what working out at the gym does for your body. This is easier said than done; it's a challenge not to get distracted. Case in point, as I'm writing this, Mr. B just came home from his morning meeting and the dog is wigging out. He's going to come into the kitchen soon and start talking to me (I have 10 more minutes to go before it's 10:00 am!) and I'll, well, peter out.

I just remembered another writing exercise; it also uses prompts but instead of random words, the prompts are statements or questions, such as, "Your first car". Or, "What makes you happy?" I've actually written and posted quite a few pieces from this exercise but I think my stash of prompts has gone missing so I'll need to recreate them.

Anyway, this is a long way of saying that, since I can't seem to come up with anything really fresh and intriguing to write about on my own, I think I'm going to go the writing exercise route on this Blog for a while. There may be some weird stuff that comes out of it, I'll warn y'all in advance!

Ok, time's up for now!

Mrs. B

Apollo...You've Come A Long Way Baby!

2011-11-04T17:52:00.006-04:00

I was hanging out with Apollo this sunny afternoon and shot a quick video of him, which brought to mind THIS video of him from over two years ago when he was still a foster kitten and we had him sequestered in one of our bathrooms attempting to "socialize" him. Check out the final thing I say. Famous last words!

Apollo June 2009

Please excuse my fingers in the video below. He kept grabbing the camera string!

Apollo November 2011

Mrs. B

Howling Pete

2011-10-31T15:28:00.004-04:00

Pete doing his weird howling/kneading thing with his favorite toy in his mouth. He does this almost every single day. Usually when one of us walks in on him, he immediately stops. Not so this time!

Mrs. B

Sunday Silliness

2011-10-30T14:57:00.005-04:00

It's, well, Sunday! Mr. B's out puttering in the garage. I just finished throwing together a batch of Cincinnati Chili Mole into the the crock pot; now it gets to simmer 4-6 hours. I should, yes I should, be doing something productive. Like, clean. Or, go through my ever present and ever growing To Do list and knock off an item or two. Yet, probably because it is Sunday; lazy day, I'm going to Blog silliness instead; and, my favorite way to do so is to answer a bunch of random questions. Maybe they won't all be silly!

Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4: Green Light: Lights when the system is disarmed and ready to be armed (ok, I didn't have a book handy, this is the User Guide for our alarm system).
Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, What can you touch?: Nothing. Air.
Before you started this survey, what were you doing?: I played one game of Microsoft Hearts (current win percentage is an amazing 71%).
What is the last thing you watched on TV?: We watched two episodes of Dexter (via NetFlix).
Without looking, guess what time it is: 3:15.
Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?: 3:02.
With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?: The fountain in the swimming pool.
When did you last step outside? What were you doing?: I went into the garage to ask Mr. B to drain the fat off the hamburger. I stayed out with Lucy while he went into the kitchen. She promptly laid down on the mat by the door and pouted and pined.
Did you dream last night?: Yes.
Do you remember your dreams?: Yes. Wait, don't you want to know WHAT I dreamed last night? I was back in our (recently sold) house in Durham. I was upstairs opening up all the doors to the bedrooms, which, for some reason, were all closed. I went into what had been Cailyn's room and found a very large white cat inside. I immediately worried that it had peed and popped all over the carpet; then, I stopped to ask myself, "WTF? Why is there some strange white cat in Cailyn's room?" I have no idea what this dream meant.
When did you last laugh?: Hmmm...? I think it may have been at a church (newcomers) meeting the other night. Turns out one of the other newcomers plays for the Baltimore Oriels; a very young guy with a wry since of humor. After he introduced himself, the lady next to him said she was originally from Jamaica but had lived in Rochester NY for most of her adult life. She turned to the Oriels's player and said, "Sorry, but I'm a Yankee's fan" to which he quipped, "No problem. So is my entire family". That just struck me as funny.
Do you remember why / at what?: See above.
What is on the walls of the room you are in?: Believe it or not, nothing, yet.
Seen anything weird lately?: Some of the get-ups of the muckity muck ladies at the opera the other night. Whew.
What do you think of this quiz?: So far, so good. It's killing time, anyway.
What is the last film you saw?: Thor. It should have been called Thud (and, yes; you warned me, Father!)
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?: Right where I'm at.
If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?: Maybe a new car. I don't know, I can't really think of much I'd immediately want to buy.
Tell me something about you that most people don't know: I don't have many secrets.
If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?: Everyone would respect everyone else's religions, politics, beliefs regardless of whether they agreed.
Do you like to dance?: Yes.
Would you ever consider living abroad?: Probably not.
Does your name make any interesting anagrams?: Yam. Is that interesting?
Who made the last incoming call on your phone?: My Father.
What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer?: Mr. B downloaded a new version of Quick Books.
Last time you swam in a pool?: About a month ago.
Type of music you like most?: Depends on what I'm doing.
Type of music you dislike most?: Rap. Blech.
Are you listening to music right now?: No.
What color is your bedroom carpet?: Sorta aqua-ish. I think it's called Sea Foam.
If you could change something about your home, without worry about expense or mess, what would you do?: Put granite on the kitchen counters/island.
What was the last thing you bought?: Groceries.
Have you ever ridden on a motorbike?: Yes (this must be a British quiz).
Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving?: No.
Do you have a garden?: No.
Do you really know all the words to your national anthem?: Yes.
What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?: Whether or not the dog is on the bed.
If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be?: Elizabeth I.
Who sent the last text message you received?: Mr. B.
Which store would you choose to max out your credit card?: I wouldn't.
What time is bed time?: Around 11.
Have you ever been in a beauty pageant?: You're kidding, right?
How many tattoos do you have?: Exactly none.
If you don't have any, have you ever thought of getting one?: Yes, but, I probably won't now.
What did you do for your last birthday?: Mr. B made me a lovely dinner.
Do you carry a donor card?: Not a specific donor car but it is indicated on my license.
Who was the last person you ate dinner with?: Mr. B.
Is the glass half empty or half full?: Full.
What's the farthest-away place you've been?: Australia.
When's the last time you ate a homegrown tomato?: Couldn't tell you.
Have you ever won a trophy?: Won? No, but, I did receive several trophies for playing softball when I was growing up.
Are you a good cook?: I'm a good cook, yes. Mr. B is a good CHEF.
Do you know how to pump your own gas?: Are you serious?
If you could meet any one person (from history or currently alive), who would it be?: Elizabeth I.
Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school?: No.
Do you touch-type?: I have no idea what this means. I can type quite rapidly and I don't have to look.
What's under your bed?: Usually a cat or two. Definitely a few cat toys and sometimes an ear plug or hair elastic.
Do you believe in love at first sight?: No.
Think fast, what do you like right now?: Hot Tamales.
Where were you on Valentine's day?: At home with Mr. B.
What time do you get up?: 7:30. Oh, ok, it's starting to be closer to 8:30 these days!
What was the name of your first pet?: The first one I really loved was Buda.
Who is the second to last person to call you?: Who cares?
Is there anything going on this weekend?: There almost always is. However, it's quiet at the house of B.
How are you feeling right now?: Lazy.
What do you think about the most?: There is really nothing I think about more than anything else. I'm an equal opportunity thinker.
What time do you get up in the morning?: Running out of questions, are you? Around 8:45.
If you had A Big Win in the Lottery, how long would you wait to tell people?: A Big Win in the Lottery? Seriously? Ok, probably a long time.
Who would you tell first?: Mr. B.
What is the last movie that you saw at the cinema?: True Grit (no, not the one made in the 60s!)
Do you sing in the shower?: Not really.
Which store would you choose to max out your credit card?: Haven't we been through this already?
What do you do most when you are bored?: Answer silly questions.
What do you do for a living?: I am Mrs. B.
Do you love your job?: Yes.
What did you want to be when you grew up?: An ice skater.
If you could have any job, what would you want to do/be?: Pretty much exactly what I'm doing now.
Which came first the chicken or the egg?: Egg Beaters.
How many keys on your key ring?: One.
Where would you retire to?: Here.
What kind of car do you drive?: Hyundai and Ford.
What are your best physical features?: I don't know; probably the fact that I am relatively healthy.
What are your best characteristics?: Organized and disciplined.
If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you go?: A really long back to back cruise.
What kind of books do you like to read?: Varied.
Where would you want to retire to?: Still here.
What is your favorite time of the day?: Depends on the day, meaning, what's going on.
Where did you grow up?: San Diego.
How far away from your birthplace do you live now?: Let's see, about 1500 miles or so?
What are you reading now?: Shanghai Girls and The Sandalwood Tree.
Are you a morning person or a night owl?: I can be both or neither.
Can you touch your nose with your tongue?: No.
Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows?: Yes.
Do you have pets?: SIX.
How many rings before you answer the phone?: Depends on where the phone is.
What is your best childhood memory?: Way too many to write down. I had a great childhood.
What are some of the different jobs that you have had in your life?: Pretty much Human Resources with a little ESL teaching.
Any new and exciting things that you would like to share?: There are a few fun visits/trips to look forward to coming up this month and next!
What is most important in life?: Living a good one.
What Inspires You?: Every day's a new day with the opportunity to be better than the day before.

Mrs. B

A Night At The Opera

2011-10-29T12:25:00.006-04:00

Mrs. B at Mattison's City Grille 10.28.11

Last night was our first experience at Sarasota's Opera House. What a charming venue! It seats about 1,200 so it's not at all huge but large enough to garner a good crowd. We heard there were recent renovations/upgrades to the tune of several million dollars. Mr. B commented that it felt like Italy inside (he's never been to Italy, but, he's heard me talk about it enough that I guess he could hazard an opinion!) Well, he was right, it did have a look of Italia.

Anyway, let me take a step back and say yesterday-day was HECTIC, as in, I felt frazzled all day. This due primarily to the fact we were woken up before 6:30 am by Lucy. She kept jumping off the bed plus she was panting like wild. I figured something wasn't right; so, we got up to take her out for her morning walk. She must have squatted fifteen times on the walk, definitely not normal Lucy behavior. Thankfully, we'd already selected a vet (our vet in Durham, Uncle Chuck, strongly advised us to do this BEFORE we had an emergency; great advice!) so we had a place to take her. We were still somewhat undecided, though, until I discovered a little puddle of red-tinged pee in the utility room. So, off to the vet went our Goose while I went to have my hair done (BTW, I like the stylist I went to much better than the one I saw a few months ago).

As many of you who follow this Blog know, we've had our share of health problems with Lucy. So, anytime she goes to the vet usually translates to beaucoup d'argent being spent; not to mention, totally frayed nerves. Her new vet, Dr. B, confirmed that she had a bladder infection but since there were crystals in her urine, he wanted to do an x-ray of her bladder just to make sure there wasn't "something else going on". I fretted and fretted and prayed and prayed. Thankfully, she's ok; it was just an infection. When we picked her up, we got to meet and talk a bit with Dr. B, who told us what a great dog Lucy is (and in really, really good shape). Lucy's already made friends with the staff there, which is nice since she'll be returning in a few weeks to board. Oh, and we got out of there spending far less than we usually do :-) Would have been pretty cheap all in all if there hadn't have been x-rays.

Ok, so, after we got Lucy home (at 4;30!) we dashed about getting ready for our evening out. Mr. B couldn't find his tux accessories (note to self; find them before our cruise in December) but turns out he didn't really need to wear a tux; I only saw a few men in them at the opera. We made it to downtown Sarasota (which takes about 20 minutes if we hit the lights right) in more than enough time for our 6:00 RSVP at Mattison's City Grille. I picked this place primarily because it was within walking distance of the opera house. I had no idea the entire restaurant was OUTSIDE! Thankfully, the rain had turned into a drizzle and there wasn't enough wind to drive the drizzle anywhere near our table. We enjoyed a nice enough meal, but, I have to say, so far, we've not yet found a restaurant whose food blows our socks off. We'll have to keep trying, I guess!

We met our neighbors Stan and Alma in the lobby of the opera house at 7:30. They invited us up to the "muckity muck" lounge on the 3rd floor for a glass of Champagne. We ended up going up there with them at both intermissions as well; this was a great opportunity for Mr. B to meet some of the other opera guild members and start that whole networking thing :-)

The opera itself was very nicely done. Our seats were superb; didn't even need the binocs I'd brought along. Who can argue that "Madama Butterfly" isn't just one of THE best operas, ever? This was the 3rd time I'd seen it and I couldn't have picked a better opera for Mr. B to see for his inaugural. I'm really glad we went to the lecture Monday night; it added quite a bit to the experience having learned a few things or two that I didn't know. Time seemed to fly by; the opera was over before we knew it.

We ran into Stan and Alma on the way out and they invited us to go somewhere for an apres opera nightcap. So, off we went to a very loud Irish pub (about the only place within walking distance that was still open). Over Irish drinks and beer, we chatted about the performance, the guild, our neighborhood, and the possibility of us co-hosting a cocktail/dessert party sometime in December. After living in a neighborhood where we did nothing but wave and nod at our fellow neighbors, it's really a delight to make some friends in our new neighborhood.

Now it is Saturday; Mr. B's off at his favorite place (Lowes) and I'm doing laundry. We hear there's been snow in the East (and in Colorado!); here, it is quite balmy and the sun is starting to come out after a drizzly/dreary start to the day. Lucy's on day two of her antibiotics and seems to be doing fine. All the animals are sacked out; it's 1:15, so that means nap time for the pets in the house of B. Since we were out until 1:00 am, a nap is sounding pretty good to me, too!

Mrs. B

The Mystical Game of Self-Improvement Week Four: Page of Cups

2011-10-25T14:15:00.005-04:00

Ok, this is starting to get COMPLICATED! Why oh why am I not drawing low hanging fruit cards? Believe me, I have several tasks on tap just waiting for an, oh, 2-8. And, please, another Cup? Cheese. Yet, once again, I must take a step back and contemplate that there is likely a reason why I'm drawing Pentacles, Cups and (mostly) high cards.

So, recall, Pages are messengers. What are these little dudes trying to tell me? What news are they bringing? Or, what message? As in, "Change THIS, you moron!"

The specific divination for the Page of Cups is:

(Upright): "This card signifies a meditative, loyal, spiritual and sensitive person who will be helpful. A reflective situation. News or knowledge of art or culture is brought".

(Reverse): "Insensitivity to others. A flatterer and deceiver. Selfishness".

And Cups, once again, signify relationships in the game of 52.

Because I'm running the risk of biting off too much to chew, I've decided I'm going to tie the Page of Cups in with the Queen of Cups's challenge (the Queen of Cups's challenge is, in short "when in doubt, be nice, and, if you can't, walk away and let someone else deal with it") by taking it a step further.

Rather than taking the time to stew over something/dwell on it/be negative/thinking of ways to "get back" or "get even", take that energy and devote it to something spiritual, artistic, or cultural.

Maybe this is stretching it, I don't know. However, I got to thinking about how much time I spent writing that review on our Realtor; probably over two hours, not to mention the time spent attempting to figure out how to get it posted in multiple places. I ended up feeling frustrated, irritated, angry and was in a totally negative frame of mind. All for what end? It won't really change anything. We made a mistake by selecting them. They are jerks. If anyone asks us, we'll advise them not to use them. If it turns out they swindled us out of some money (this is a pending question), we'll report them to the BBB. The bottom line is, the house sold and we no longer have to worry about it. Do we have them to thank for selling it? No. But, we're thankful it's not sitting on the market still and having to continually deal with them. Does this mean I'm not going to get annoyed each time we get a request from them asking us for information (for the new owners) that we already provided? No, I'll get annoyed. But, I just don't want to get so hung up on every mistake people make; even when said people sure appear to make a hell of a lot of them.

Ok, this is a long way of saying the following. When something happens that I decide to shrug off, I'll take the time I would have spent bitching about it and put the effort into something spiritual, artistic or cultural.

On to a recap of my other chores:

Five of Pentacles

Doing great. Probably should talk with Mr. B soon about recreating the business side so I can take over. It's way too difficult trying to figure out why he did what he did. On the other hand, taking the time to do so would be decent preparation for eventually working through the muddle some potential client comes to us with.

Queen of Cups

I'm a-trying. Man, is this tough. I think adding in the Page of Cups's challenge will assist in this regard. On the pro side, I've not been nasty to anyone lately. I was a bit sarcastic with Regan & Co. yesterday morning, however. Sigh.

Page of Pentacles

I've not yet researched the patent thing. I did spend a goodly amount of time with Mr. B discussing the pros and cons of a potential business arrangement. In doing so, I thought of a lot more marketing ideas. Now, I just need to get my butt in gear and start planning.

BTW, I can't help but think these Pages in my Tarot deck look like vapid little zombies. I think I prefer the Hello Kitty version!

Mrs. B

Lovely Sunday!

2011-10-24T10:23:00.002-04:00

The weather was picture perfect! We headed to Lido Beach, which is roughly 20 minutes from our house, maybe a bit closer but the snowbirds are back so everything takes longer now.

There were a ton of people on the beach. We took a nice walk and found a few pretty shells. It was obviously a tad breezy (check out my crazy hair) but really, really pleasant out; I'd say it was close to 80 degrees. Look at that white sand and the blue, blue sky!

Now that we've been, I'm gung-ho to go back (before it gets too chilly) and lay out for awhile. We have to go buy a few beach chairs and an umbrella first, though.

Afterward, we went over to St. Armands and to Daiquiri Deck. This is the sister joint to the one at Siesta Key. Pretty crowded there; a band was playing, the weather was great, everyone was in a jolly mood.

What did I fill my Coolie Cup with this time? Cadillac Margarita! Yum! A lot better than the Monkey-Berry concoction I had last time (banana/strawberry).

Mrs. B

Been Sorta Quiet...But That's About To Change!

2011-10-23T12:00:00.004-04:00

All in all, we had a low-key week this past week. About the only new thing I did was attend an opera guild meeting Tuesday morning at the invitation of my neighbor, Alma. Both Alma and her husband Stan are heavily involved with the Sarasota Opera, which, considering I truly enjoy opera, seemed like fate. Anyway, the meeting was interesting; well-run and many, many members. Although not all were at the meeting, there are over 500 guild involved. Well, they just got two more as I signed us up. I have to admit, it's unlikely we're going to go to many of their fund-raisers right now; a bit steep cost-wise. I just checked out the cost for the opening night gala next February. $250 PER. OUCH. And that doesn't include the price of the opera ticket either. But, I figure what with going to the operas and some of the cheaper events (like a lecture on Madama Butterfly tomorrow, it's only $10 per person and there will be wine :-) ), Mr. B can rub shoulders with the area's muckity mucks. Part of my master plan.

We ARE making an evening of it this coming Friday; I bought very good seats for the opening night of Madama Butterfly; partly because I love this opera, but also so that Mr. B will be able to truly appreciate it (his first opera! We'll try out one of countless downtown Sarasota restaurants prior and then meet Stan and Alma at the opera at 7:30. Since they are muckity mucks, they are able to get into the special lounge for muckity mucks and invited us to join them (you must be invited). Again, not a bad opportunity for Mr. B to get his name out there.

Speaking of getting one's name out there, it turns out it's pretty important to have calling cards around here (different from business cards as a lot of the people here are retired and no longer work). Yes, sort of a throw-back to a long forgotten time, but, quaint. I found a deal on Vista Print; 250 cards FREE; only had to pay shipping and handling. I really wish I'd had them Tuesday at the guild meeting as I was asked several time for my card! Well, we have them now.

As for the first part of the week, we plan on going to the lecture Monday. Tuesday is a meet and greet with the Pastors of a church we started attending (yes, yes, yes; this will be the subject of another Blog entry at some point for those of you who just fell off your chairs!) They are a husband and wife team and it's a dessert/coffee gathering for new members (or those still considering such as us) at their home (they live in our community). Thursday night is 648 (a one hour church service; very informal) and Friday is Madama Butterfly! There is a beer festival in Lakewood Ranch on Saturday but I'm not sure we'll be up for that after (likely) a quite late evening Friday.

Today is another totally gorgeous day here in Florida. Mr. B's doing some stuff out in the garage but we're hoping to get out this afternoon; maybe a walk on the beach followed by an afternoon cocktail or beer somewhere by the water.

Don't feel too sorry for us :-)

Mrs. B

Sunny Sarasota Homes: Just Say "Wen!"

2011-10-20T22:12:00.004-04:00

I don't want to have only negative stuff up on my Blog. Here is the polar opposite of our experience with the agent in North Carolina!!!!!

Mrs. B

Late last year, my husband and I made the decision that, due predominantly to the fact we both have aging parents in Florida, we should make “the move”. We were initially considering three areas; Ocala, Tampa/St. Pete and Sarasota/Bradenton and, in addition to looking to buy a house, we were also interested in acquiring a CPA practice for my husband. That’s about all we knew.

I hopped onto the Internet to do some general “house hunting” in these areas. I poked around and poked around and eventually stumbled across Wendy Lynn’s site, http://www.sunnysarasotahomes.com/wendy-lynn/. Being a person who appreciates the ability to take care of the majority of my business on-line, I’ve seen my share of web sites. I was immediately drawn into this site; its ease of use and the amount of information it contained without being overwhelming. We later found out that the web site design and development was the brain child of Wendy’s husband and co-worker, Josh, so, a family business! Even better! Through the site, I sent an email to Wendy explaining our circumstances and preliminary thoughts on where we might want to live.

Within a day, I’d heard back from Wendy. From the get-go, her approach in working with us was an effective combination of professionalism, efficiency and genuine warmth and friendliness. Despite the fact that we had not committed to living in the Sarasota/Bradenton area, Wendy jumped right in to help us find our potential “dream home” by having us send her a list of “must haves”, “would like to have”, etc. home requirements. She signed us up for Listing Book, an effective on-line tool and resource to look at homes/neighborhoods, indicate favorites and reject others, change search criteria and post comments/messages for her to see and respond to.

In addition to assisting us while we “virtually” explored her area, Wendy located agents for us to work with in Ocala and Tampa/St. Pete, as well as hooking us up with local business brokers. Not only did she do this willingly, she went above and beyond in finding us DIFFERENT folks to work with when two of the agents were not as responsive as we would have liked.

All of this was very positive, of course, but we knew we had a winner in Wendy when we took a short trip to Sarasota/Bradenton in late January to both explore the area and do some very preliminary house hunting. Wendy made herself available for two days, showing us houses in a multitude of areas in both Sarasota and Bradenton. Many of these houses were ones we’d identified via Listing Book, although some were Wendy’s own suggestions. I should highlight that she did this even though we had not yet committed to move to the area.

Shortly after that trip, we decided that Sarasota/Bradenton was where we wanted to be. For the next several months, we continued to communicate with Wendy, check out the listings on Listing Book, and work towards our eventual move date. During this time, Wendy proved time and time again to be helpful and resourceful in connecting us with people and organizations that we would need to facilitate our move, both from the personal and the business aspects.

Right after the 4^th of July, we headed back to the area to find our house! Once again, Wendy was tireless in her efforts and conscious of our timeframe; taking us to see over 20 houses our first day out and then several more, including repeat showings, the next day. Now, one might think this would be “too much”, but, you have to understand we were looking at homes we’d already been tracking on Listing Book in areas we knew we wanted to be in. My husband and I are both seasoned home buyers and know what we want and what we don’t. Wendy complimented our styles and rounded out the process by doing an excellent job of listening to what we were saying; to her, to one another, and then feeding it back to us at appropriate times, even if it meant playing devil’s advocate. After all was said and done, we ended up making an offer on our number one choice, which, coincidentally, turned out to be a bit different than what we originally thought we wanted; another of Wendy’s talents.

Throughout the offer, acceptance, inspection, closing, etc. events, Wendy continued to be there every step of the way (sometimes even when we were not); ensuring things went smoothly. She was in constant contact with us while we were packing up our home in NC. Even now, she continues to check in with us to see how things are going, provide us information on the area, tips on where to go to get great pizza, restaurant deals, special events, etc.

We would have absolutely no qualms in recommending Wendy; and, in fact, would encourage anyone who was interested in the area to sign on with Wendy. We have no doubt that she would take care of them the same way she did us, regardless of their own particular needs and circumstances.

Professionalism, courtesy, adaptability, effectiveness, warmth, humor and friendliness; if this is what you’re looking for in an agent, “Just say Wen!"

Regan and Company: "We're never too busy for your referrals (but we are too busy for you!)"

2011-10-19T20:11:00.008-04:00

Following is our review of Regan & Co., a real estate agency we used to sell our home in Durham. We hope this information proves helpful to any and all who may be considering using this firm.

Mrs. B.

Like many people in this current housing market, my husband and I were concerned about our ability to sell our home in Durham. Adding to our concerns was the fact that homes in our neighborhood simply were not selling and they were listed at prices far below what they’d originally sold for. Someone in our neighborhood told us about a house near theirs that had sold within 23 days; almost unheard of. The listing company was Regan & Co., and after checking out their website, I called them in early May to discuss the possibility of listing our home with them. I spoke directly with the owner of the company, Mike Regan. Although he was polite, he asked some fairly pointed questions and informed me that our neighborhood had really taken a hit.

We met Mike at our house a few days later. After touring our home and telling us there wasn’t much we’d have to do to prep it for sale other than to perhaps add some flowers to the front, we sat down to discuss the details. Mike had brought the typical numbers along with him and we had a very painful conversation regarding the best price point to list our house at so that it would sell and sell quickly. Unfortunately for us, the price point for our house meant that we were going to have to bring money to the table. Although we did not intend on going the short sale route, Mike should have brought up the possibility of a short sale. Much later in this process, a few weeks prior to closing, my husband contacted the bank to ask if they’d be willing to meet us half-way. The bank told my husband that, in order for that to even be a possibility, we’d have to scratch the contract we had with the buyers and, in essence, start all over again but this time with the bank being involved in agreeing to the price, agreeing to the offer, etc., etc. Obviously at that point we were not going to do this, but, it became apparent that Regan & Co. had not covered everything with us that they should have. If I had to hazard a guess, they likely would not have done business with us if we’d told them we intended to do a short sale.

Another thing that Regan & Co. stresses at the outset is that the home be properly staged. This is an issue for a lot of people because it sometimes means they have to put thousands of dollars into the home in repairs, paint, and temporary storage for overflow furniture, etc. Additionally, pets in the home are extremely problematic; Regan & Co. recommends they, and all signs of them, be removed for all showings. Going into this, we already knew our pets would pose an issue so we’d decided before we even met with Regan & Co. that we would not put the house on the market until we’d moved out. This made Regan & Co.’s job a lot easier. In fact, many of the things that Mike (and later his crew of home stagers recommended) we’d already decided to do on our own, such as power wash the outside of the house, clean all windows inside and out, have the carpets and house professionally cleaned once we’d moved out, etc. This goes a long way of saying that WE made THEIR job considerably easier.

At Regan's strong suggestion, we paid $450 to the stagers; for this we received a few (loaned) pictures on the walls and a couple of items on the counters and in the bathrooms. They also made use of an outside patio set we intended on leaving behind for our lawn maintenance man; bringing it inside into the sunroom. So, we paid them to use our things! We don’t believe the house even required staging since it was empty, it was sparkling clean, and the floors positively gleamed.

Back to the initial meeting. Encouraged by Mike’s opinion that, given the upgrades we’d made to the home and the excellent condition it was in that it would likely sell quickly, we decided to sign with Regan & Co. Although we had a figure in mind after that meeting, we didn’t settle on the final listing price because the house would be in “Coming Soon” mode for several months while we worked through the process of buying a house in Florida and moving out. What this meant was, there would be a sign in our yard but it would not be on MLS.

Regan & Co. processes their documents electronically. After digitally signing the listing agreement, my husband couldn’t get our copy to print out (after a period of time, the documents are no longer available online). This later became a problem when we saw a $395 fee to Regan & Co. on the closing statement for “Closing Assurance”. We were told it was in the agreement we signed (which we didn’t have to refer to). As of this writing, we still do not have a copy of the listing agreement.

From May-July, not much else happened; mostly because we were not yet ready to put the house on the market. We did meet/talk several times with Mike’s assistant Laura. Although Mike WAS our listing agent, he pretty much assigned all of the work associated with our listing to one or more of his employees. Unfortunately, these employees changed over the course of our involvement with Regan & Co., leading to several miscommunications.

In mid-July, we contacted Regan & Co. to discuss the final steps in getting our house on the market for mid-August. Mike came out to the house and told us that, in the two months since we initially spoke with him, the market in our area had suffered even more, and, consequently, he was recommending that we price the house $15,000 less than we’d originally been discussing. We’d been paying attention to what the homes in our neighborhood were doing so we were not totally surprised but still were incredibly disappointed and heartsick. After discussing several details, Mike left and, once again, we were in the hands of his assistant, Laura.

Over the next week or so, we talked to Laura numerous times; mostly regarding our concerns of how the property would be managed after we had left the state. For the most part, we heard “we won’t do that” or, “we can’t possibly be responsible for that”. Additionally, they were not happy that we had an alarm system; citing that a lot of agents won’t show a house if there is an alarm. I became sufficiently annoyed about this lack “care and feeding” on Regan & Co.’s part and the fact that it was taking several days to hear back from anyone regarding our questions. I sent a quite pointed email to Mike (whom, by the way, we hadn’t heard anything from other than a standard thank you note with (yet another) of his business card magnets).

After receiving the email, Mike came back out to the house for a few minutes (literally) to talk about our concerns. But, as with a lot of things to do with this transaction, we’d already decided on our own to turn off the alarm when we moved out, to have family and neighbors check on the house, etc. Mike’s primary concern at that point appeared to be that it was unfortunate we couldn’t have flowers out front because there wasn’t anyone available to water them.

We moved out Monday August 15^th. That week was a whirlwind of activity that had previously been arranged between us, Regan & Co., and independent contractors. We’d been told the house would be on MLS by Friday August 19^th; the weekend at the latest. We’d also been told that there would be a flyer placed in the house, along with copies of the MLS, for potential buyers to take away with them. Finally, we’d been told by Laura (who was now no longer with the company) that we’d have input into both and if there were things we wanted added or removed (in particular to the flyer), that could be done. When we finally saw the flyer, it had grammatical errors and it hardly did anything to highlight the features of the house. We recommended several changes to it and the MLS; some were made but others were not. The pictures were nice, at least.

The house officially went onto MLS on Wednesday, August 24^th. Our first showing was Sunday August 28^th. Early Monday morning August 29^th, Mike called (the first time we’d heard from him in weeks) to tell us we’d received a full price offer but they were requesting we pay $2,000 of their closing costs. This is where things really started to fall apart. Obviously, we were very pleased to get an offer so quickly. However, we felt extremely pressured by Mike to accept this offer; he suggested we not risk irritating the buyers by pushing back on anything. Even though these were only the first people to see the house, it was very apparent he did not think we should hold out to see if any other offers might come in. He told us to review the offer and call him back. This was around 7:30 am.

When we checked our computer for the offer, we saw that we only had the first three pages. Neither of us felt comfortable agreeing to it until we’d seen the entire offer package. I called and left Mike a message to this effect. He called me back and left a message in essence saying it wasn’t all that important to see it but he ‘d get it to us, that he’d worked with this buyer’s agent before and he trusted her, and that we didn’t want to delay too long with accepting it because buyers were pretty fickle in this market.

My husband finally spoke with him (after reviewing the entire offer). He asked him why the due diligence period (when all appraisals, inspections and repairs had to be complete) was as late as a week prior to closing and requested this be shortened. Mike said 30 days was about normal, but, he’d see if he could get it pushed back a week (from October 10^th to October 3^rd; closing was set for October 17^th) and he’d let us know. We’d also not seen proof of the buyer’s prequalification; he assured us the other agent had it and would fax it to him later that day. This phone call was around 9 or 9:30 that same morning. We told Mike to tell the other agent they had our verbal acceptance, even though, as it turns out, the buyers had given until 5:00 the NEXT DAY to respond.

From the point until closing was, if possible, even more of goat rope. Given how sloppy everything was handled, we’re actually surprised the house closed on time.

Mike assured my husband that any repair requests from the inspection would have to be things that were not functional. Instead, we received a long list of items, many of which were cosmetic and some bordered on the inane, indicating to us that Mike never even looked at it/discussed it with the buyer’s agent. Additionally, Mike did not follow up with us regarding the due diligence period. In fact, the last we ever heard from Mike (with the exception of a note with yet another of his business card magnets) was the evening of the day we received the offer. Regan & Co. never seems to have more than 15 listings and there are now at least five agents plus Mike. They don’t do any real marketing of their listings, choosing to work instead by smoozing other agents. So, we’re not entirely sure WHY Mike never had time to follow up with us/see how we were doing. His motto appears to be, “I’m never too busy for your referrals”. Yes, because he drops his existing customers like a ball of lead once they sign, so, he’s got all the time in the world for potential customers.

"I am never to busy for your referrals! However, I am too busy for YOU".

As closing drew near, we were asked for information that we’d already provided. We received forms that had to be signed in front of a notary and sent back on the THURSDAY before the Monday closing, which meant we had to pay almost $40 in FedX fees to ensure it got there in time (and then no one was around to accept delivery; we got a call from the closing coordinator, Jim Ellis, on Monday, as in closing day Monday, telling us it hadn’t been delivered. Luckily, it was later that morning).

In summary, the bottom line is this. We’d be hard pressed to recommend Regan & Co. It started out ok, but, in the end, it felt like the proverbial bait and switch situation. Plainly stated, the house sold itself; Regan & Co. had little to do with that. They gave almost zero consideration to how we were handling this difficult circumstance of both losing a considerable amount of money AND dealing with a real estate transaction from another state. We also believe that certain information was deliberately withheld and that we were pressured into accepting the first offer we received so that Regan & Co. could advertise that they sold our house in six days. After the offer was accepted to the point when we closed, it was just one thing after another that led us to be completely dissatisfied with Regan & Co. in general and Mike Regan in particular.

The Good:

Initial meeting, although painful, was informative and productive. Decent data was provided to assist us in determining the appropriate price point.

The photographer did an excellent job with the pictures for the flyer/MLS.

The closing coordinator, Jim Ellis, was mostly helpful.

The Bad

All possible options regarding listing/sale were not discussed/disclosed.

The stagers were a total waste of money; it should have been more than apparent they were not required in our situation.

Regan & Co. did not go over the listing agreement/all charges with us nor did they provide us a copy of the agreement once they found out we couldn’t print it.

There were ridiculous fees. $395 for “Closing Assurance” my foot! Given what happened later in the process, this is an oxymoron if I’ve ever seen one. WE should have been paid this as a mental health fee for all the headaches they caused us.

Negligible at best interaction with our agent Mike Regan; we were in essence delegated to his (ever changing) flunkies pretty much from the get-go.

No genuine concern for our concerns; we were made to feel as though we were being unreasonable.

Mike Regan was far more concerned about being able to slap a “Sold in Six Days” sign on our house than he was about our concerns and our best interests; in fact, after that sign was put up, we never heard from him again.

A sloppy, careless and slapdash approach to just about anything related to transactions, documents and follow-up.

The Mystical Game of Self-Improvement Week Three: Page of Pentacles

2011-10-18T14:47:00.008-04:00

Here we go with the money thing again! And, another high-ish card (the Page is somewhere between the 10 and the Jack).

Unlike the prior two weeks, I'm not going to spend much time analyzing this card or writing what its divination in the Tarot is, save a few words.

But first, the update!

Five of Pentacles

Hey, I'm doing great with this one! I've put all of our personal financial information into Quickbooks. This has been a fantastic way to learn how it all flows. I have had to bug Mr. B several times, but, I believe he's learned a few things along the way as well. I'll continue to work with it and will shortly start entering business transactions as well. Eventually, I'll create a new set of books for our business and I'll take over. That's not for a while yet, however.

Queen of Cups

This was a mighty card to draw; as in, a mighty challenge, a mighty struggle, a mighty lady. Frankly, I was a bit overwhelmed with where, exactly, to head with this card since it can entail so much. Finally, since Cups relate to relationships and feelings and such, I've decided to narrow this task down to a few areas, all to do with how I PERCEIVE and BEHAVE in situations involving people/relationships:

-Take 10. Count to ten and breath before I react to anything which I perceive as an adversarial situation.

-I will be firm, not mean.

-I won't be belligerent; I'll try my Father's tack; "I'm just an old country gal trying to get along". Ok, I guess I can't use "country gal", necessarily, but, I'll figure something out.

-I will be polite, not rude.

-I will take the high ground.

-I will be thoughtful, not hasty.

-And, when all else fails, I'll pass it off to someone else to deal with if I don't think I can maintain my composure.

This is quite a tall order, I realize. I guess, too, that I probably could have assigned some of these to other cards in the game, but, the Queen of Cups IS a biggie!

How am I doing? Ok. This will take the whole year to master. However, I'm happy to report that just yesterday I "passed something off" to Mr. B because I was starting to get quite annoyed with a particular company which will remain unnamed. I asked Mr. B to take a stab at writing a reply to their customer service folks; he did, I edited it, and we in turn received something a bit more positive back from them. Not that we're done with them, I'm afraid, but, it was at least a step in the right direction in many ways.

I will add that all of this doesn't mean I'm turning into a Patsy. If someone or some organization deserves to be blasted (so to speak), they will be; but, I'll try my best to do it in an entirely professional manner. Case in point; you'll likely see a review of our experience with our real estate agency shortly here on this Blog!

Ok, on to this week's card.

Here are a few words which jumped out at me from its description/divination:

Regarding Pages, they represent messages or messengers. Their duty is to announce or be an effective instrument of information. Recall that Pentacles typically deal with money. "A situation requires knowledge or research. New ideas and opinions manifest".

When I read this, I knew EXACTLY what it meant for me!

Two things, really:

Take on a major role in marketing Mr. B/the business. I DO have ideas, tons of them. Some things have already been put into play, but, there's much to be done yet.

Patent Mr. B's invention. I don't want to say more about this HERE. But, I'm definitely going to research how to get this done.

So, with these challenges ahead of me, plus the 1st two, I'm a-gonna be a busy gal.

Mrs. B

PS I had to post this other card; when I did a search on my Tarot deck's Page of Pentacles, this one popped up, too. I was a bit surprised that there is, apparently, a "Hello, Kitty" Tarot deck floating around out there. Not exactly what you'd expect youngsters to be playing with, but, hey, all mystics have to get their start someone, I suppose!

Lovely Florida Weekend!

2011-10-16T10:02:00.005-04:00

Almost perfect weather here in SW Florida yesterday. Got to love it. No, don't "got to," DO love it!

We finally managed to get a nice size planter/plant out on the front porch. Actually, it's a bougainvillea, which I believe is technically a woody vine although you can train it to resemble a tree. Not a cheap endeavor but it does add something to the ambiance. We think we'll keep some annuals planted around the base of the vine. We opted for marigolds, in honor of fall (plus they are hearty little things).

We spent the better part of the late afternoon hanging out on our lanai. Lucy was in good spirits while she awaited her nightly olive.

I love the look on her face; pure anticipation!

Later we enjoyed a pink hued sunset as Mr. B grilled our steaks and corn. Since it was still so nice outside, we opted to eat dinner out on the lanai; lingering over our glasses of Pinot Noir while listening to Beethoven's 9th.

Classic!

Today, we think we'll go hang out at one of the area's famous beach-y-shack-y places,

Sharky's on the Pier.

Hope everyone else is having as nice of a weekend as we are!

Mrs. B

Loyalty Points and Programs: Are They Worth The Effort?

2011-10-15T11:31:00.009-04:00

Considering the deal we just got on a cruise I booked a few days ago,

HELL, YES!

My Queen of Cups Runneths Over With Challenges

2011-10-13T16:59:00.005-04:00

My Queen of Cups challenge has been most decidedly that this week. I’m not sure I’m rising to the occasion as well as I could be, but, at least I am thinking about how I am responding to situations/people and whether my behavior has been ok or something I should strive to improve on.

But, LORDY! What a week to have drawn this particular card. Or, as I wrote earlier, perhaps there was a reason that I drew this particular card and a reason why I chose to assign myself the challenge that I did.

As a reminder, I assigned myself the chores of:

· Focus on developing many of this queen’s attributes within myself:

o Sensitivity, inspiration, morals, intuition, calmness, serenity.

§ Follow my intuitions regarding people and situations.

§ Pay attention to my dreams and what they may be telling me.

§ Practice kindness and patience.

§ Lead by example.

I realize I used the word “chores”; maybe that wasn’t my original intent but it sure has felt like work this week.

Let me step back and say that I’m really trying to get at two issues here. The first is a) how I perceive/feel about a given situation and the second is b) how I react to and/or what I do about that same situation.

It probably goes without saying that “a” will likely determine “b”, so, the majority of my effort should likely go there.

An age old dilemma for me has been how to deal with a situation I don’t like in a positive manner. That seems like it should be easy enough, but, sadly, it’s not. I don’t mean something happens that I don’t like so I run off and do something negative. What I mean is, something happens that I don’t like and, almost immediately, I take a negative/heavy hearted view of it and get all worked up. This may or may not lead to me behaving towards others in a way that doesn’t jive with “queenly attributes”, but, it most definitely will set me simmering in a stew pot.

Folks, I just can’t STAND being taken advantage of OR blowing off something that I believe to be wrong. I have an extremely difficult time shrugging my shoulders and thinking, “Oh well! It’s not that big of a deal”. So, back to A and B, I suppose with the A, I have to seriously contemplate whether it is in fact a big deal or not. If anyone has some sort of trick to doing this, I’d be terribly interested in hearing about it.

Quite honestly, I do believe that the majority of the issues we've been hit with this week have been ones that had to be dealt with. You get too many of these at once, it becomes almost impossible to not take a negative view.

I was going to compile a list of things I’ve been struggling with this week but, as I’m writing this, I’m boring myself with my whining. So, I won’t. Suffice it to say, come next week, I’m betting that I’ll still be struggling with this.

Mrs. B

PS. Some humor. I went online to find a picture of "cups running over" to post with this entry. I couldn't find one with a cup full of crap, so I had to settle for this one. However, I first put into Google search "A cup full" and, low and behold, a ca-zillion pictures of boobies spilling out of bras popped up. One best be careful for what one asks for.

The Mystical Game of Self-Improvement Week Two: Queen of Cups

2011-10-10T14:38:00.008-04:00

Ought oh. I mean, seriously, OUGHT OH! Not only did I draw a fairly high card (the higher the card the more challenging the task), it had to be one dealing with relationships and a bunch of touchy-feely, supernatural, psychic-jazzy babble.

But first, an update on my progress with last week's task, the Five of Pentacles.

I did spend several hours exploring Quick Books and began taking their on-line tutorials. I came up with a list of questions for Mr. B and we went over them a few days later (he may come to regret this because I am nit-picky about keeping records). I figured out how to reconcile our business banking statement by merely clicking a few buttons. I have scheduled more time this week to continue my studies.

Back to today's Queen of Cups. Seriously, you'll understand why I'm stumped after reading these descriptions/divinations (by the way if you're having difficulty reading the print, click on Ctrl and + at the same time, this will enlarge the font):

So, yeah. Exactly. Huh? This is my stumble-bumble through it:

Ok, well, I suppose I HAD been thinking that I want/need/should/could/might better (a hold out from NC) work at being a nicer person, both in how I deal with people and in how I handle difficult situations. So, that's "relationships", right? I know, it's a stretch, but that's about all I can come up with and if I succeed even somewhat, that will be a good thing.

And, my friend and I agreed from the outset that if we managed to make even just a few of these 52 things (or 78 in my case) stick, this would be an improvement in our lives.

So, maybe it's not so strange that I drew the Queen of Cups. And, I always have preferred to get difficult tasks out of the way early; plus, I have a lot more lead time on this one, I have fifty-one more weeks to get it right.

Mrs. B

A To Z

2011-10-08T18:36:00.002-04:00

A. Age: OLD…to the left of 50.

B. Bed Size: King.

C. Chore you hate: Cleaning glass and stainless steel. It ALWAYS streaks no matter what they say!

D. Dogs: Lucy. My one and only.

E. Essential start to your day: Routine is this. Get up. Make travel cups of Keurig coffee. Walk the dog. After that, it varies.
F. Favorite Color: RED.
G. Gold or Silver: Mostly gold but I like silver too.
H. Height: 5’4”.
I. Instruments you play: Piano (and that was a very long time ago!)
J. Job Title: Boy. I don’t know. Mrs. CPA, maybe?
K. Kids: Furry ones: Lucy, Pete, Lily, Ares, Athena, Apollo. Human (step) ones: Cailyn.
L. Live: Lakewood Ranch, FL. Straddles the county lines of Sarasota (S) and Bradenton (N). Also known as Switzerland.
M. Mother's Name: Dina Kay.
N. Nicknames: Too many. Mark calls me “Honey”.

O. Overnight hospital stays: Boy. Long ago when I was four or five. Tonsils, probably.
P. Pet Peeves: DISHONESTY. Oh, and lazy slugs J
Q. Quote from a Movie: "This one goes to eleven”.
R. Right handed or Left handed: Left.
S. Siblings: One older sister, one younger sister and two younger brothers.
T. Time to wake up: Usually about 1:30 am. Time to get up? 7:30 am to 8:00 am or so. Heck, we are living the FL life!

U. Underwear: I have a full drawer full of.
V. Vegetables you hate: Turnips or parsnips or one of those nips!
W. What makes you run late: Not much.
X. X-rays you have: Teeth, mostly. Maybe my chest and do ultrasounds count?
Y. Yummy food that you make: Comfort food. And, great appetizers and desserts when I’m in the mood.
Z. Zoo animals: I don’t like the zoo.

The Mystical Game of Self-Improvement Week One: Five of Pentacles

2011-10-03T14:53:00.009-04:00

Today begins the first week of the game my friend calls "52"; which for me will likely turn into "78" as I'm adding in twenty-six additional Tarot cards.

This morning I collected my Tarot box (sadly quite dusty), sorted out the Major Aracana cards as I'm not ready to tackle anything that majorly important, and, after quiet consideration of how the deck felt in my hands, drew my first card.

Given how concerned I've been about money these past months, I'm not really surprised that I picked a Pentacle, as Pentacles (diamonds) is the suit that corresponds with livelihood, career, financial matters and the like.

My Tarot deck of choice is the Scared Rose. Here, then, are a few definitions and possible divinations of this particular card:

Hmmm...not too positive sounding, is it? Well, one of the great things about the Tarot is it's open to interpretation!

And the resulting action will be...

Time is already on the "books" (ha ha). Seriously, if this works out ok, I could become a Certified Quick Books Pro Adviser; if it makes sense to, that is. Mr. B's already in the process of receiving his certification; not sure if both of us need this designation.

And, we're off!

Mrs. B

Dinner Time

2011-10-01T11:48:00.003-04:00

What it's like at our house when it's time for the cats to eat. Surprisingly enough, even Pete has been getting in on the wet food action, which is likely why Ares gave up and went to eat the crunchies!

Mrs. B

A Mystical Game of Self-Improvement

2011-09-29T15:04:00.007-04:00

A friend (who will remain anonymous) and I have decided to venture down an interesting path of potential self-improvement. My friend's idea; a good one, I thought, so I elected to play along.

Some background. In theory, it is said, it takes something like three weeks of continuous work on changing something about oneself for the change to stick (frankly, I think it's a lengthier period of time). Anyway, my friend said (and I am paraphrasing), "If I chose to change something I don't like about myself each week for a year, that's fifty-two things. Hopefully, after a year, some number of them will have stuck".

To make it a game with RULES, each thing will be assigned a card from a normal deck of playing cards with changes pertaining to relationships being a Heart, to activities a Club, to Sins (I take this to mean anything from bad habits to character flaws) a Spade and money-related items a Diamond (one of my additions since having studied the Tarot, I know that Diamonds = Pentacles = money).

Finally, the lower cards, such as 2s, 3s, 4s, etc., would be for fairly simple/easy changes; conversely, the face cards would be for much more difficult things with the Ace being an almost impossible feat (but one, by definition, likely the most worth the ultimate effort). So, as an example, an attempt to always enter checks, withdrawals and deposits into the checkbook might be assigned the two or three of Diamonds; conversely, a desire to give 10% of one's income to charity might be the Queen of Diamonds.

In mulling over how I might attack this, I got to thinking I'd be likely to start off picking things that either were not that hard OR that I was already doing (such as the checkbook example above). I'd likely continue in this vein until all I had left were the toughies and then I might give up out of sheer frustration. I thought what I might do is, each week on the appointed day, draw a playing card out of the deck and then decide what change it represented. Of course, each week, I'd have to make sure I removed the cards I'd already used and then there is the potential problem of not being able to come up with anything for that card.

Mr. B suggested that I sit down BEFORE starting the game and come up with the change represented by each of the fifty-two cards. Not a bad idea, except, I'm not sure, frankly, that I can conjure up fifty-two things I want to change about myself right now. As with many things in life, this type of effort can be pretty fluid and subject to, well, change. Something I think I want to work on in September of 2011 in the activities area may not be pertinent by the time I might draw that card four or five months later.

Am I over thinking this maybe? Probably!

In the end, I've decided to tie my game to the Tarot. Why? Well, first, because I have a real cool Tarot deck that's been gathering dust, but, mostly because each of the fifty-six minor arcana cards, which roughly correspond to a normal deck of playing cards but with four extra face cards (the Pages), pertain to something in particular (generally speaking as nothing in the Tarot is terribly particular), thus, will provide a bit more guidance/structure as to WHAT to focus on. Arguably, this doesn't work quite as well with the lower cards being assigned easier changes but I suppose I can modify it somewhat to making those change on the lighter side. And, if I end up doing pretty well with this, I can tackle the 22 additional cards of the major arcana; the real heavy hitters, such as The Chariot, Justice, Strength, The Tower and Death. And yes, I realize dear friend, that I've just added half a year to my game!

In the true spirit of reality show TV, I'm going to take this one step further and chronicle my game right here on Mrs. B's Brilliant Blog. Hey, it's not as if I've been writing much about anything these days, anyway, so, as my friend pointed out, this will also serve as fodder.

On Monday October 3rd I'll draw my first card and the game will be a foot.

Mrs. B

Gimee's Writing

2011-09-19T09:30:00.005-04:00

My brother Nathaniel and I decided to exchange REAL letters, as in, "putting pen to paper, paying for a stamp and placing it in the snail mail". Problem is, he had trouble decyphering my writing. I TOLD him he would and offered to type; he declined.

I should have mentioned to him the long list of other people who can't read my writing. Heck, my staff used to place bets on what I was saying in the notes I left them! College friend Don simply gives anything I've written to his wife, my good buddy Kathleen, to read to him and BFF Peri, after knowing me 40+ years, can't always determine what I'm saying. Even my Mr. B says, "I can USUALLY figure it out".

Once, when helping the Durham Symphany address envelopes for a mail campaign, one of the old grande Southern dames of the organization held up a stack of envelopes and announced to the room, "What IS this? WHOSE is this?" I pipped up and admitted it was my work. She said, "Did you grow up in a FOREIGN country?" I said, "No, I grew up in California", to which she replied, "My, my, my, how UNUSUAL!"

Oh, and the "Gimee" part? In 10th grade, I decided to change the spelling of my name from "Amy" to "Aimee". Apparently, my "A" resembled a "G" as first one, then another, English teacher referred to me as "Gimee". 30+ years later, one of those teachers STILL remembers he used to call me "Gimee".

Not much has changed in this regard; when I was switching our ADT account from NC to FL, the customer service guy said, "The name on the account is ATT B******? That's an odd name!" No, not "ATT" but "AH". And, so, the beat goes on!

I have no idea how my writing evolved to this "hieroglyphic" style, but, frankly, it's ME.

Mrs. "Gimee" B

Beach Venture

2011-09-17T17:33:00.005-04:00

So, we took the goofy dog to the beach yesterday afternoon. Although there are many beaches in the area that allow dogs ON leash, this appears to be the only one that allows dogs OFF leash. It's located in Venice, which is roughly 20-25 miles from our house. Maybe a bit farther. Anyway, it didn't take us long to get there.

When we got there (about 1:00 or so), it was sorta quiet. A few people/dogs in the dog park area that you have to walk through (multiple gates) to get access the section of the beach that is dog friendly. Thankfully, Lucy strolled on by the doggies getting hosed down (sandy); she was anxious to see what this was all about!

After a hefty crap ("Hey, ma, new place, gotta leave my load!"), we eventually made it to the beach. Most owners let their dogs off the leash from the moment they were inside the dog park; not us. We had NO idea what she'd do.

So, the beach itself. HOT HOT HOT sand. Kinda marshy (definitely not the best section of beach but still lovely); lots of folks with pooches running about with Frisbees, balls, other water toys. Blankets, towels, small beach umbrellas abounded; one set of people even had a small pup tent set up.

We dropped our gear (not much; a few towels, a mat, Lucy's water bowl and a bag of pita chips) and took her on down to the water's edge. She wasn't sure at first but she did eventually walk into the gentle surf and swim around a bit. After a few minutes, we decided to let her off leash and see what she'd do. Well, she basically ran off down the beach, investigating everyone and everything. Thankfully, she did not get into it with any dogs but she also did not listen to her voice commands to come back. We slapped the leash back on her. A little bit later, we tried again; same thing. Frankly, we're not sure if she really just didn't know what to do or if she was truly ignoring us. But, the leash went back on and stayed on. She swam a bit more and then promptly rolled around in the sand. Digging in the sand appeared to be a lot of fun, too.

After about an hour, we'd all had enough. We walked back to the dog park, hosed her off (she did NOT like this part) and then drove into Venice's main drag to stop and have a pint or two at TJ Carney's, dog-friendly Irish pub. Lucy did great there; she loves to people watch (and bird watch and squirrel watch). We enjoyed the two for one drafts.

Lucy under the table at TJ Carney's. I forgot to take my camera onto the beach.

We do think we'll take her back to the dog beach and try again. We mused that perhaps it'll just take her a few times of watching the other dogs to get the hang (sorta like me in Yoga class!) If all else fails, we could probably "pretend" to leave and that'll keep her close by.

Mrs. B

Ten Years On 9.11.11

2011-09-11T18:54:00.003-04:00

"When I despair, I remember that all through history, the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they seem invincible, but, in the end, they always fall. Think of it--always."

Mahatma Gandhi

Au Revoir Mais Ne Pas Adieu

2011-09-04T10:00:00.009-04:00

Now that we're pretty much settled into our new home (this means the majority of the boxes are unpacked and those that are not are hidden in closets), I'll take a moment to reflect on our departure from Durham; the hard part, the "saying good-bye" part. And, also, post a few pictures from the last family get-together we held in the Durham house.

It seemed fitting that, despite the fact the majority of our worldly possession were packed into cartons and boxes, we had the gathering at our house; back in 2006, many of the same folks were with us celebrating our purchase of that house when all that was there was a table and chair set we'd recently purchased and a few boxes we'd brought in a U-Haul. That night, December 19th, 2006, we slept on blankets on the floor in our bedroom; me, Mr. B and our now departed Clyde. That was before Lucy; before the cat colony, before a lot of things. Ah, memories, they can certainly be bittersweet.

And, so, almost five years later, our family gathered, as we had done many, many times throughout those five years, to hang out in the kitchen and visit, share food and drink and watch the children play. Of course, that first time, there were not yet any children to watch play. Yet another significant change that time has brought.

Thinking about this, I am struck by the similarities of a time many, many years prior. The year was 1969 and we, my mom and dad and my sister and I, were staying with my maternal grandparents on the eve of our departure from Indiana to move to San Diego, California. Earlier that day, we'd taken the obligatory "good-bye" pictures in front of their house and later visited with many of the extended family. The next morning, we were up bright and early; and I can still remember sitting at my grandma's kitchen table eating those small Hostess donuts covered in powdered sugar with my grandpa.

Grandpa and Grandma with Mom Summer 1969

Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, (a quite little) Mrs. B and Mom

I wonder what, if anything, my brothers's children will remember from their last visit to Aunt Mamie's and Uncle Mark's North Carolina house?

Mrs. B AKA Aunt Mamie, with Sophie (left) and Holly August 2011

Sophie and Jacqueline

Mrs. B with Holly, her bros Jon and Doc and Mr. B

SILs Analee and Shannon

Doc checking out the dwindling B's booze supply

Kendal and Grandpa

Lucy

My mom told me years later that leaving her family in Indiana was extremely difficult, especially considering how close they'd been, how frequently they'd seen one another and how unlikely it would be that they'd see each other any more often than once a year. Of course back then, there was no Internet, no email, no instant chat, no Facebook, no Skype; in fact, even phone calls were quite expensive. Folks had to rely on the good old US Postal service to facilitate much of their communication. And, certainly, it wasn't as affordable to travel, either. It wasn't "adieu"; but, it was a pretty long "au revoir".

Which brings me to an explanation for the title of this entry.

Many, many years ago, I took French in junior/senior high school (and later, college). As happens, I don't recall a lot; "J'oblige beaucop de ma francais!" but, there are certain things I'll never forget; one of which is the difference between two salutations which mean "good-bye". Unlike English, where "good-bye" can refer to all sorts of situations, the French are much more specific. "Au Revoir" is used when you WILL see the person again, regardless of the length of time between meetings. On the other hand, "adieu" pretty much equates to, "This is IT; we'll never see each other again, EVER".

Leaving our NC family was tough, to be sure. My heart ached for both Mr. B and The Kid as they said their farewells and even I, tough old step-mother broad that I am, found water in my eyes as I gave her a big hug and kissed the top of her head. I've already blogged about the emotional good-bye I shared with my youngest brother and also the tug of the heart strings when I stood next to my mom for our obligatory good-bye photo.

Mrs. B and Mom August 15th, 2011

Unlike with her and HER mom, however, it won't be a year before I see her again and I can also reach her much more often via cell phone, email and the like. Still, it's tough, it always is, to leave; to walk down a different path and turn your back on the one you were just on.

But, I remind myself frequently, this is "au revoir mais ne pas adieu"; "good-bye, but not for forever".

Mrs. B

Happy Birthday Mr. B!!!!!

2011-08-22T16:17:00.002-04:00

You're the love of my life. I'm so happy to be on this new Floridian adventure with you!

Happy birthday and many, many more to come!

Love always,

Mrs. B

Florida Homeowners AND Residents

2011-08-19T10:03:00.008-04:00

We successfully closed on our new house Wednesday afternoon! Yey! The moving van should arrive in an hour or so and we'll begin THAT process.

The dog is with her grandparents in Ocala and the cats are in a Residence Inn about 15 minutes from our new house. They are starting to get on one another's (and our) nerves. Keeping a kitty litter box in a closet ain't much fun.

Had a bit of a scare coming down I75 Tuesday afternoon; a hard rubber thingie came flying out of nowhere (probably fell off the back of someone's work truck), went under the car I was driving, flew out behind me, went over one lane and smacked right into the windshield of the car Mr. B was driving. Thankfully, it hit in the middle, not on the driver's side and doubly thankfully, Mr. B is cool under pressure.

If this had happened Wednesday, our FL insurance would have covered it free of charge. Since it happened Tuesday (when we were still under NC), our crappy NC insurance did not cover it so we are out $260. But, really, since it could have been far, far worse, we're not really complaining. It's already been replaced.

Anyway, other than this, everything's worked out okay so far (well, we're a bit irked at Allied but that's another story, maybe).

Here are a few pictures from our journey (so far). More to come!

Oh, BTW, the Internet in our new house is WICKED fast! Woot!

Mrs. B

Monster moving van outside our "old" house.

One last picture in front of our "old" house.

Mrs. B and Mom. Don't cry!

Pete at a Red Roof Inn in Hardeeville, SC (about five hours from Durham).

Lucy's an old pro at this traveling thing.

Lily is unperturbed by it all. Time to eat.

Athena was actually not hiding.

Apollo looking handsome with his tag.

Ares. Before he started howling.

Scary!

Looks worse from this view.

Apollo hanging at the Residence Inn in Sarasota.

Time to chill out, Ares.

Lily decided Pete's crate made a nice bunk.

Four of the five (Lily's in the crate).

Happy FL homeowners 8.17.11

August 15th: Following the Road

2011-08-15T09:23:00.008-04:00

It's August 15th, 2011 and it's moving day! Yes, after much advanced preparation and forethought, this day has finally arrived.

Of course, not without some anxiety and melancholy, but, not too much, really. I'm a traveler at heart and my beat marches on. With the advent of technology; cell phones, texting, email and social media, I know that I'll remain in touch with my loved ones in NC. And, as my brother put it the other day as we exchanged an emotional good-bye, we can "put pen to paper". I like that thought; actual, physical letters (assuming anyone will be able to read my handwriting!) Plus, we ARE moving to Florida, after all, and I'm fully expecting to have visitors (especially in the winter).

We had a few hitches in our get along this morning; somethings you just can't plan for. The moving van showed up about 1/2 hour early, which meant we had not yet corralled and cornered the cats. We spent a few frustrating moments chasing Apollo and Athena around the house and Pete frightened even me with his vehement hissing. Finally, all five were sequestered, but, not together. No way were we going to open up the bathroom door which behind lay Pete, Lily and Ares to throw Apollo and Athena in. This little snafu changed our mind about sedating them. They're ALL getting the sleepy pills later on this afternoon.

The next hitch was Mark asked the driver how we'd know how much our shipment actually weighs. The driver said we had the "guaranteed price" so it didn't matter. Uh, no, it does matter because we were told we'd pay no MORE than the estimate (which was wildly on the high end, there is no way we have 12,000 pounds!) and if it weighed in less, we'd get a credit. So, a few phones calls back and forth before we Mark got that ironed out.

Anyway, now it's a lot of sitting and waiting and anticipating. And, like last night, when I couldn't sleep, lots of thoughts rolling through my mind.

One thought that struck me was it was on August 15th that I flew to Italy for my six week adventure back in 2003. Eight years ago already. Like this move, I had planned and planned and planned for that trip. When the day finally arrived when I embarked, I was both exhilarated and terrified and also slightly melancholy. I remember it was a Friday and that my step-mom Margot took me to the airport. She came inside the terminal with me until I'd checked in and then left with a quick hug and a wave (she was never good with good-byes). Although I know I've posted this before, here is a snippet of what I wrote later that day:

I am sitting on the plane in Philly; believe it or not, there may be a problem with the plane (indicator problem) but, the captain just came on to say we’ll be on our way in 10 minutes. Sigh of relief; although, I guess it’d work out if I got delayed.

I’m on my way to Paris, then Verona. So far it’s been uneventful, although I am already thinking I have too much crap (even though I did get everything in one wheelie bag and one carry-on). Yes, I began to think this while lugging the carry- on through the airport here in Philly, my shoulder aching from its weight. I’m definitely going to ship some shit home after the class in Verona is over. No way am I lugging this over Italy for two weeks. See how much I’ve changed already!

The most traumatic thing today was saying good-bye to Nigel and Clyde. This will be the longest yet that we’ve been apart. I know they’ll be fine, but my heart still hurts a little. I’m happy that my heart is hurting for cats and not some guy. Yes, I really mean this!

I hope the people get friendlier during this journey of mine! So far, no one has been that outgoing. I think I have a “dud” for a seat mate; some big guy who won’t even look at me. He seems to have an attitude; or maybe he’s one of those that is scared shitless of flying but he doesn’t want to let on. Well, it’s a 7 hour flight; maybe he’ll say something at some point (He never did!)

I’m not sure yet how my writing will go. I do want to capture details of my trip so I can write up a memoir later. I’d like to write about my inner-journey, too. I think I’ll be in a different place emotionally six weeks from now. And, of course, I’d like to write poetry, stories, articles, etc.

When this trip is all said and done, I’d just like to be happier. That’s a broad statement; I’ll figure out more details as time goes on.

That trip to Italy turned out to have its share of both wonderful experiences and AFOGS (Another FU$$ing Opportunity to Grow) and it obviously was a catalyst, or a bridge, to my next life, the one I've been leading, the one that is about to change directions yet again.

As I sit here and type this, I am thinking about the many positive aspects of this move. I am grateful that I am not doing it alone; unlike my journey to Italy, this one I'm embarking on with a loving husband, my faithful dog, and my cat colony. There are people waiting for us there and the people we are leaving behind, as previously noted, we are not REALLY leaving behind. It's not the pioneer days; we WILL see each other again. I am also cognizant that much of the same holds true today that did eight years ago; "When this trip is all said and done, I'd just like to be happier. That's a broad statement; I"ll figure out more details as time goes on".

This is not to say I've not been happy these past eight years. What I feel is, it's time to make a change so that I can continue to be happy. I'm not ready to stop growing just yet.

More to come.

Mrs. B

Moving Mania!

2011-08-11T14:27:00.007-04:00

I knew it was going to be this way as it always is; the final days before a move are totally insane, despite the best efforts to be organized. We've been probably over the top organized this go-around and it's still be a bit wiggy around here. I shudder to think how people who don't lean towards methodically planning things out step by step manage to get themselves successfully moved; e.g., people, pets and possessions all ending up at the correct address.

Here's my recap*, starting with a week ago today:

Thursday 4 August. I had arranged for an "Open Closet" sale from 4-7 in a (futile) attempt to pre-sell some of my clothes, shoes and accessories. A woman came the Saturday before and bought one of my "Italian Outfits". One woman did show up during the actual sale and bought a few things. Although it didn't have the result I'd hoped for, I still think this was a good idea. IF I ever attempt to get rid of more clothes et al, I'd seriously consider doing this again, but with a bit more lead time. Mom came over to help me with the sale (not really needed, of course) so we spent some time put price tags on the moving sale items which were piled all over the garage.

Friday 5 August. Mom and Dad came over to help us get organized for the moving sale. No mean feat, believe you me. Despite the fact we'd already inventoried and priced all the items, we still had to figure out the best way to set up, where to put what, etc. We did a partial dry-run with two long "tables" (really long pieces of wood placed on top of saw horses) out in the driveway, the tools and yard equipment in the yard, etc. Mark and Dad put up the several signs Mark had already made. As we were sitting in the garage enjoying a well deserved lunch of Subway sandwiches, beer and wine, several people drove by, stopped, and inquired about various items. One gentleman wanted to know if we were selling our "cook stove",which I took to mean the camp stove, but, no, he meant our stove-stove, as in, the one in the kitchen! A yard maintenance man wanted to know about the lawn mower (already bequeathed to my brother). A neighbor came over and put dibs on a snow shovel and the wheel barrow. And, the dude who'd placed a deposit on the china hutch (which had been listed on Craig's List) came by to pick it up. While he and Mark prepped it for loading, his buddy bought several items that we'd placed out on a table.

Saturday 6 August. Woke up around 3:30 to the sound of rain. Damn! We both ended up getting out of bed by 5:30 so we could figure out what to do regarding the sale (it was pouring down rain with thunder and lightening). The sale was due to start at 8:00, and Mom, Dad and my brother were coming over shortly before to help us set up per the previous day's plan. Problem was, that plan was now in the crapper. Mark began to put things on the front porch while I went out on a (fruitless) donut run (the Dunkin' Donuts I was searching for did not appear to exist). Long and short (the entire moving sale experience is worth an entire entry or two on its own), the sale went from 8-2 as planned. Even though it rained much of the morning, that didn't stop people from coming, thankfully.

Sunday 7 August. In stark contrast to Saturday's rainy day, Sunday was bright and sunny but just as humid. In fact, probably worse. We had a real slow day; probably a combination of heat and it being Sunday. We switched to "1/2 Off Everything!" mode at 10 which helped sales a bit but not much. By 3 (we stuck it out longer in hopes we'd get some late-comers), we packed it up (literally) in preparation for the remaining items's trip to various charity organizations.

Monday 8 August. I followed up on a few points with our real estate agent. Mark delivered boxes of stuff to charity. I arranged for another charity to come pick up our large furniture pieces that had not sold. I also finalized both our car and homeowner's insurance policies in FL, talked to the alarm company about moving the system once we're in the new house, and a few other new home related business items which I now can't remember.

Tuesday 9 August. I dropped several boxes of books off at the local library. I did a ton of laundry. We each had some personal appointments plus The Kid came over for dinner/to spend the night. We went to a Foo Foo Mexican restaurant called Dos Perros and enjoyed our evening with The Kid (no moving stuff).

Wednesday 10 August. I took two cats to the vet for their annual exams and also picked up sedatives for whichever cats may need it for the drive down to FL. We spent the day organizing for the packers (e.g., moving stuff that we don't want them to pack to an empty room, packing up things we will take with us (e.g., jewelry, cigars, toiletries)). Mark also did some real work. We had dinner with one of his clients at a Southern comfort food restaurant in Chapel Hill called Mama Dip's. Eh, so-so.

Thursday 11 August. Today. Woke up full of fire to get everything else done. As of almost 3, much of it is done, including moving clothes that we will need to take with us into a room the packers won't go into, going to the bank (for something like the 10th time this week), paying bills, putting notes around the house for the packers, movers and carpet guy, clearing out the pantry and putting aside food stuffs that family may want (perfectly good but we can't take it), going through our wine stash, doing a trial run on doping up the cats (with mixed results), and wasting time blogging.

So, yeah, it's been a whirlwind week and this synopsis hasn't even included all that Mark's been doing (he has is own Blog!*)

Left to do yet (no particular order): Vacuuming the couches and throw pillows (to remove cat hair) before they all get boxed up/wrapped up tomorrow. Moving the rest of the items that we want the packers to leave alone to a safe place. Vacuuming under our bed once the bed has been removed (cat hide out; you can imagine how much fur must be under there). Re-setting the AC for something that won't break the bank since we won't be here to adjust it. Lowering all window blinds. Removing the beach towels that we'd stuffed under one of the kitchen cabinets when we got Pete and Lily (to keep them, and later the Littles, from climbing in). Getting Lucy's (never used) dog house to my brother. Having a family get-together here Saturday. Make sure the neighbors know to not park their cars on the street or in their driveways Monday or else they'll get creamed by a moving van and/or won't be able to get OUT of their driveways. Secure the pets on Monday Moving Day. Load the cars. Leave for our new life.

WHEW. No wonder I'm exhausted!

Mrs. B

A Journey to Patience

2011-08-04T11:05:00.004-04:00

I’m going on a trip; a journey, rather, a journey to Patience. It’s not really a destination, I know, but, “they” always say it’s the journey that matters, anyway.

There are two traits I’ve inherited from my biological parents. There are probably more, but, I know for a fact that these two I can attribute to them. One, courtesy of my Mother, is vanity (although my Father has told me he is pretty vain, too). The other, which has caused me no end of trouble in my life and has led me to the conclusion that I need to take this particular journey, is impatience.

In other words, I have no patience and I’m fairly certain that I never have had any. Even as a small child, I’d get extremely frustrated over the smallest things. I could go from a sunny, happy cooing toddler to a raging little brat in zero to five seconds. Of course, I could also just as easily return to my sweet state in the same amount of time. This hasn’t changed much in 45 something years. Just ask my husband. There is a reason I bought a cap at Disneyworld a few years ago with an emblem of an angry looking Tinker Bell and these words stitched below, “Moods subject to change without notice”.

But, wait, that’s menopause, not impatience. Shit, I’m screwed.

When we got our dog Lucy a few years ago, we should have named her Patience; then, I would have had some patience, anyway. Ok, so I stole that idea from my former boss, Ed; another person not known for his patience. He was giving a speech to a group of college hires one afternoon and was, to his credit, doing his best to make it a bit more personal so that he (a very tall, imposing man who didn’t usually crack a smile) wouldn’t scare the crap out of them. He was disclosing some tid-bits about his life; his own college years, why he decided to go into engineering, his rise to VP-dom, and the fact he loved to sail and was finally able to buy a boat which he named Patience; and so he quipped, “And she’s the only patience I’ll ever have”.

The realization that I must do something about my impatience AND my quick temper flare ups (which are likely related most of the time although the temper can rise with or without any situation requiring patience) has been floating around in my brain for about a year. Yeah, it used to be a lot worse back when I was working 12 hours a day but, you’d think after eight years of not working (unless you count my less than half-time, heck, less than quarter-time job doing consulting work for one company as working, which I don’t) I’d have cooled my jets by now down to a really low boil or a slight simmer when matters start to torque me off. And, in fairness to me, I probably have managed to do so about 60% of the time.

It’s the other 40% that causes me some concern; mostly because I don’t want to look like or come across as an out of control bitch. Or, Rumpelstiltskin; that fairy tale character who got all pissed off because the queen figured out his name right before she was going to have to give her baby to him and he got so enraged that jumped up and down so hard his right foot drove into the ground and he sank up to his waist, which only infuriated him more such that he grabbed his left foot with both hands and ended up tearing himself in two. Hey, that’ll teach ya to not be able to control your temper; talk about a split personality, ha ha ha. Seriously, when I get into a fit and start losing it, I know that is exactly who I must look like to anyone who may be a witness to this silly behavior.

And, oh BTW, he isn’t even a major fairy tale character. There are likely many, many children (and adults) who have no idea who he is. So, on top of it, why behave like an evil, unnoticeable, inconsequential bad guy?

And it IS silly. That’s probably the primary reason why I want to change it. I don’t want to be a silly person. I’ve strived too hard to NOT be a silly person; I don’t want it to take me down in the end, after all.

So, this is a long, rambling way of saying that I’m embarking on a journey to Patience and I figured I may as well chronicle it; who knows? This may be “the” thing I write that I finally try to publish. You know, the “How to go from Asshole to Sweetheart in 30 Days” concept Father and I came up with like, seven years ago and I’ve still done nothing with (that’s another blog entry). In any event, this chronicle will probably be hysterical to read, at least to me.

Mrs. B

Memories: Road Trip with Peri, Nigel and Clyde 2003

2011-08-03T12:59:00.003-04:00

Eight years ago tomorrow marks the anniversary of the beginning of a road trip I took with pal Peri and my faithful companions Nigel and Clyde. I told Peri I'd get her a copy of this "memoir" and this is the easiest way to do so. Unfortunately, the pictures that accompanied the story are on a CD packed in a box somewhere. Anyway, here ya go, Peri!

I thought you'd all like to know that we (me, Peri, Nigel and Clyde) made it across country with very little difficulty and almost exactly on schedule.

We were smart enough to load the car up the night prior (with everything except the cats) and it's a good thing we did as it took us a few iterations to get everything in its right place (get everything to friggin' fit).

The drive that first day was relatively boring; through the desert, through Las Vegas, through more desert, etc. We entertained ourselves this day (and the other five days of the trip) listening to music, talking, trying to spot all 50 state license plates (we ended up with 48; couldn’t get either Hawaii or Delaware (Peri is convinced that Delaware simply does not exist)), and, of course, listening to Italian language CDs.

We stopped the first night in Richfield, Utah. We walked to a nearby hometown café for dinner where we had a pretty decent diner-type meal but no alcohol (being in Utah and all); also, we got a clear idea of the local mentality when we came upon a sign during our walk for a video store that said “Coming Soon! Edited Movies! No Sex, Violence or Bad Language!”

The poor cats were fairly traumatized at this point; both of them spent a great deal of time under the beds; or, rather, they tried to get under the beds but since each bed had pedestals underneath them, they were SOL.

The next morning we got up somewhat bright and early, scrounged up some coffee, loaded up E5150 and got back onto the 70 headed east towards Colorado. This day’s drive was by far the loveliest; flat desert terrain giving way to vistas of rangy looking trees and rocks which eventually rolled up into the mountains. We sang along with John Denver as we winded our way along the almost deserted road through the Rocky Mountains; amazed at the scenery, caught up in its simple beauty, and found ourselves giving in to the emotions it provoked (and, by the way, there is something called “Rocky Mountain High” and it has nothing to do with illegal substances; it’s the altitude that makes you silly and giddy and, well, a bit more relaxed and happy).

We made it into Colorado Springs around 5:00 pm. Our timing couldn’t have been worse; we got stuck in rush hour traffic on our way to my friend Shaleen and her husband Matt’s house on the NE side of the Springs. I also noticed that E5150 was gasping a bit (I later realized she was going through her own sort of Rocky Mountain High; cars need to be adjusted if you intend to drive them for long periods of time in the high altitude regions).

We enjoyed a evening of great hospitality at Shaleen and Matt’s. We sat outside on their patio and watched a Rocky Mountain thunderstorm (which breezed in and out in about 15 minutes; I’d forgotten how tempestuous the weather in Colorado can be). We had dinner; shared wonderful food, wine and engaging conversation that ranged from catching up to discussing the CA political situation. We were also treated to an impromptu recital by Matt’s daughter, Mandy, who sang “Part of Your World” from the Disney movie “The Little Mermaid” quite beautifully.

The visit came to an end all too soon (this is the bad thing about road trips, you usually only have one night in each location which makes for insufficient time to catch up with dear friends). After corralling the cats the next morning (which meant dragging them out from underneath the bed as they hissed and swiped at me), we loaded up the car, said our good-byes to Shaleen and made our way up to Denver.

We drove through Denver (Peri was excited to see Mile High Stadium which is just off the I-70); then headed east towards Nebraska. The next few hours of driving were boring and uneventful. By this point in time, the cats had given up meowing (they were quite the talkers on Day One and even a bit on Day Two) so we once again amused ourselves with music, Italian lessons and hunting for license plates.

Although it was a bit dull, we were pleased that we were on schedule to arrive in Omaha by 6:00 or so (we lost an hour the first day due to moving into different time zone and lost a second hour this day). We cruised along the I80 going east and all was well until about 30 miles or so out of Lincoln, Nebraska. All of a sudden, the traffic, which up to this point in time had been fairly light, came to a dead stop. We sat there for about 20 minutes trying to figure out what was up. People were getting in and out of their cars and trucks asking around to see if anyone knew why we’d stopped; no one seemed to. Peri and I attempted to tune into the traffic report on local radio but couldn’t get a signal. We called friends in California to see if they could go on line to see what was up. No luck. Finally traffic started to move but only to a point; about ½ mile up the road we were all forced to make a U-Turn and go back in a westerly direction. This was not so great since we weren’t really sure how to get back in an easterly direction to continue on towards Omaha. Luckily we had an atlas and also the phone number of the hotel we were to stay at in Omaha. Between these two avenues of information and from what we gleaned from some folks we met at the rest area we’d stopped at, we were able to figure out which route(s) to take to get to Omaha.

Here at least we hit pay dirt. My friend Mardie had booked us into the Sheraton in Omaha located in the downtown Market District. Che bel posto (what a nice place)! We got the cats situated (they quickly made a mess of the bathroom by throwing cat litter all over creation) and walked a few blocks away to Old Market District proper where we found a place to eat that I’d been to about three years prior called M’s Pub. We ordered Cosmopolitan Martinis and phenomenal sandwiches and relaxed, relaxed, relaxed after a grueling day of driving.

The next day we elected to sleep in (I slackened up on my Nazi-approach to road trip travel) and had a nice breakfast in the hotel dinning room. The waiter was quite friendly although he appeared to think that Peri and I were interested in alternative music because the first thing he said to us after asking if we wanted coffee was “So, what IS it with Radio Head these days, anyway?” I was quite startled by this (especially as I had no clue who or what Radio Head was).

We left Omaha around 10:30 am and continued on our trek on the I80 east. We had a relatively uneventful drive until we reached the outskirts of Chicago where we had to merge onto a toll road along with countless other cars and a multitude of semis with rude and snarling drivers (whoever it was that told me truck drivers are nice and especially like to look out for the ladies driving alone on the road were full of it). We stopped in a town near La Porte, Indiana to get gas and got stared at. Apparently two women and two cats driving around in a gold BMW was not something the folks there saw overly much! I got a nice compliment, “Beautiful car, ma’am” and one friendly cracker-looking dude made a point of coming around the side of his car to wave at me and say hello.

We pushed on and arrived at my parent’s house in Ft. Wayne around 9:30 pm. They of course were not there (they are currently in Florida with the three grandchildren) but they had offered us the option of staying in their house rather than in a hotel. We managed to get into the house without setting off the alarm and got the cats ensconced in the sun porch. We opened up a bottle of Merlot, took a few pictures of us toasting my parent’s hospitality, and sat out on the porch listening to the night sounds that only seem to exist in the mid-west. I thought I saw a fire fly and I know (when we were driving) we saw a falling star.

The next morning, after cleaning up the mess the cats had made in the sun porch (kitty litter EVERYWHERE); we loaded up and headed on our way for the short drive to Cleveland (where things definitely did not go according to plan!)

We had no problem getting to Cleveland, but once we arrived, we quickly realized we’d been faulty in our planning. We’d hoped to get into town, find a motel to drop the boys off at, and then hit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Museum in downtown Cleveland. Well, what happened was we discovered that Cleveland is NOT a pet-friendly town; meaning, we couldn’t find a motel that would allow cats. After awhile of driving around, I made the executive decision that at least one of us should see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and since Peri wanted to see it more than I did and since I have six weeks in Italy to look forward to, I dropped her off at the museum and headed off with Nigel and Clyde to find a motel.

As it turned out, I had no better luck on the outskirts of Cleveland; I drove around for almost two hours trying to find a place that would accept all four of us. Once I figured out that we were not going to obtain a room in Cleveland, I resigned myself to driving around visiting the few sights that I cared to. I drove by where my father and stepmother Margot used to live in Pepper Pike and I drove by the TRW Headquarters on Richmond Road (Northrop Grumman has not bothered to change the signage here, it still says “TRW”). With an hour or so yet to kill before I expected Peri to call for me to pick her up, I bought an iced latte at Starbucks and Nigel, Clyde and I practiced Italian in a strip mall parking lot. It wasn’t exactly what I had wanted my visit to Cleveland to be but it could have been a lot worse.

When I collected Peri around 6:00 pm, we elected to continue on our trek east towards Pennsylvania. A few miles outside of Cleveland, we got stuck in a horrendous traffic jam. We decided to say the hell with driving to Pennsylvania and pulled off in small town called Willoughby. Luckily in Willoughby there were motels with exterior room entryways. We spent the night in a Red Roof Inn, which really wasn’t half bad, and had a decent dinner at a nearby steak house.

The next morning we headed off to New York at around 9:15 am. Other than a bit of rain on the New York Turnpike and some creepy people we ran into when getting gas in a small town off the Turnpike (which we dubbed “Deliverance Ville”) we had no problems. We reached father and Margot’s farm almost exactly on schedule; at 5:15 pm Saturday afternoon.

Even though it was tiring at times and a bit frustrating at others, the good aspects of the road trip definitely outweighed these minor irritations. For those of you who have never experienced traveling across the United States in a car, I’d certainly recommend it (however leave your pets at home!)

At the end of the road, we had the peace and serenity of Windwood Farm waiting for us as well as several days of relaxation before Peri left for New York City (Tuesday; where she was destined to meet President Bill Clinton in a Toys R Us in Times Square) and I headed for Verona (Friday; where I’m sure I’m destined for many things). My father and Margot have provided wonderful hospitality to us and the cats (who will continue to take advantage of this hospitality for the next six weeks while I learn Italian and otherwise goof off in Italy).

As you can imagine, I’m definitely looking forward to the next leg of my journey!

Vado a Italia subito!

Missing Margot

2011-07-29T15:01:00.006-04:00

It's been almost five months since my stepmother Margot passed away and although the rawness I felt upon her loss has abated, there is still an almost continual ache that lies just beneath the surface of everything I do, think and feel. I know given both the closeness we shared for over forty years and the completely unexpected suddenness of the circumstances that lead to her death that this ache is not unusual; not that it makes it any easier.

Over the past months, I've refrained from either saying or writing much about how I feel; mostly because, despite how much I love to blab on about inconsequential matters, I'm fairly private about how I am feeling and what I am experiencing. During this time, I've often found myself on opposite extremes of how I react to how others have responded to her death. At times, I've found myself irritated or even downright angry at what I perceived to be a false sentiment of sorrow. Other times, I've been both perplexed and sadly disappointed in how a few people have behaved; mostly in their absence of any real sympathy at all. Of course there have been my stalwart supporters; those I knew I could count on and, true to form, they've been there for me when I've fallen apart. There have also been some folks who came out of left field and surprised me with their kindness and understanding. Stark in her absence, of course, has been Margot herself; she was someone I could always count on to be there for me as I struggled through various trials and tribulations that I encountered in my life. I'm not entirely certain what she'd advise me now in how to handle her death and the aftermath of my grief, but, she'd likely tell me to go easy on myself and that everything will turn out ok sooner or later.

I've found it to be true what I'd been told about losing someone precious to you; it's not so much the initial rush of grief and sadness that is the most difficult to bear; rather, it is those sudden moments, least expected, where there is a stab of such deep and unspeakable sorrow that it can take your breath away, or bring you to your knees, or both. And, these moments, even as they may decrease in frequency, never let up in their rawness and intensity.

And, as I said, I still have the continual underlying ache going on. I do believe that this has contributed to my being slightly more than testy at times over the past months, and certainly recently, as we've been in the throes of uprooting and moving. In the back of my mind, I'm aware that this move probably wouldn't even be happening had Margot not died, at least not at this point in time. I know that had she been alive and we were moving closer, she'd be elated and thrilled. I can hear her saying "Wonderful, dear!" in my mind, and know that she'd be one of my top go-to people when I felt the need to rant and rave about all the little stressors that make up the process of moving. I'd rat a tat tat away on my keyboard, sending her any number of emails and would always get a reply to each one.

In fact, over the past months, I have at times gone into my email files, opened up the one labeled "Margot" and read through some of her sage advice on other matters just so that I could "hear" her calming voice most likely pointing out a few things I had over looked; or, to read some of her more humorous ones where she might be recounting something silly she did as a child or making a wry comment on the lack of someone's intelligence. Due to the fact my computer crashed not long after I learned about her illness, I have two separate email files for her, the one prior to her illness and the one after. Although it's sometimes too much to bear to read the ones from the prior file, I have to hand it to dear Margot that the tone of the ones in the after file remained, for the most part, true to what her character was and how she almost always interacted with me. Through the emails I can reconnect with her, something I am so very grateful for.

When I first learned of her illness and the likely, awful prognosis, I set about writing a series of emails to her that I labeled "Memories of Margot". Unfortunately, I didn't get very far before she was beyond the ability to read them. I also started on a story telling of the times the two of us shared in England in 1980 (it's about half done) and, after her death, began work on a memorial that will both have pictures of her throughout her life and tell her life's story. Working on this has been difficult at times but it's something I want to do and I want to do it well. As such, it's taken a bit longer than I originally anticipated but I know that she'd understand. I might share some of these memories here, which would also be fitting since she was an avid reader of my Blog.

I've not had many dreams about her and those that I have she's never herself as she was during the stages of her illness, and, in fact, she's always much, much younger than the sixty-eight she was when she died. One dream was particularly upsetting as in it, I had to tell her that she was dead, upon which she promptly burst into tears. Another, however, was much more positive and even helpful.

After she died, my Father and I were both puzzled to read in a document that she left behind for us that she wanted her cousin's daughter to have a certain "Civil War Era Buckle Ring". We'd looked at one another, perplexed, as neither of us knew what she was referring to. There was another, different, ring that she wanted another cousin to have, that we knew and had identified that ring. But, this? I later found a letter she'd written to the cousin's daughter detailing the ring's history, which, although explained the ring's origins and who had owned it, did nothing to assist us in figuring out where the ring was currently located. While I was there in March, Father and I spent some time looking for it, to no avail. Father told me on the phone a month or so later that he was convinced he'd looked pretty much everywhere it might be. Time marched on and both of us became involved in other things to think about so the elusive buckle ring remained missing. Several weeks before Mr. B and I were due to return to Florida, I had the helpful dream. In it, I was standing inside a grocery store near the front entrance with my Father and my friend Peri. The three of us were each glancing around the store, trying to locate Margot, because as was typical of Margot, she walked into the store and promptly charged off, leaving the three of us behind. In the dream, Father and Peri went off in opposite directions to find her while I stayed put in case she wandered by. Sure enough, Margot (probably aged 45 or so) walked up and stood next to me. While we waited for Father and Peri to show back up, I said to her, "Oh, by the way, Margot, where the heck is this Buckle Ring you want us to give to Dave's daughter?" She turned to me and said, "You have to look behind a picture". I woke up thinking there must be a clue in there somewhere! I told Father about it next time we spoke and also Googled "Civil War Era Buckle Rings" so that we'd have some idea of what we were looking for.

As it turned out, the ring was not behind a picture. Father looked and I looked and there was no ring to be found. One day, the last before Mark and I left Father's, I was standing in the shower thinking and thinking about this ring. Earlier, it had dawned on me that Margot had almost always routinely sewn items and family artifacts on her quilts. Father and I had both went to look at the quilt from the branch of her family it was most likely to be on. It was hanging in her bedroom, over her desk. Nope, nada. So, where was it? Finally, I remembered a quilt hanging in the closet in the guest bedroom; it had a love, marriage and family theme. Since the ring had originally been an ancestor's engagement ring, well, maybe it was there! I got out of the shower and went into the room and, sure enough, there it was, sewn onto that quilt. No, it wasn't behind a picture, but, it WAS behind a door.

What prompted this Blog entry today was I experienced one of those sudden painful moments earlier this afternoon while I was lying on the couch upstairs reading Roseanne Cash's autobiography "Composed". I was reading the part where she'd written the eulogy for her own stepmother, June Carter Cash. The eulogy was very beautifully written, which was pretty much all I was thinking until the very end where Roseanne says she knows when her time comes, she'll come around the bend while floating down the river in a canoe and see June standing on a dock waving "Hello! Hello! Welcome!" and I had such a clear image of my stepmother standing waiting for me wearing one of the hats she favored with pins from various tourist sites attached to the brim, ready to tell me all about where I was and show me around.

So, I got into the shower and cried and thought about how much I still miss her and knew that I needed to write about all of these things so that I could once again feel her near; and to let her know that she remains vividly alive in my dreams, thoughts, and heart.

Mrs. B

Hunk Oh Hunk Of Burning Stress

2011-07-28T09:16:00.008-04:00

"They" say moving is one of the most stressful things a person can do in life; it keeps company on the list with getting married, divorced, starting a new job, being laid off or fired from your job, buying and selling a house, having a child/being a parent and having someone you are close to die. I've had experiences now with all but one of these and some more than others.

Probably the all time humdinger was in June of 2000 when FIVE occurred at once: I got divorced, we sold our house (while we were basically estranged), I moved from Colorado back to California (I had to leave my cats in Colorado for about three weeks; thankfully, I had a wonderful friend who went over to the house and checked on them every day), I started a new job where I had a lot to prove (or at least I thought so then) and I bought a house (and had to live almost three months in a Residence Inn until that process was complete; juggling what to do with Nigel and Clyde when I had to go out of town on business trips (please, maids, DON'T go into the room and let them out!))

When all was said and done, the entire change was crammed into roughly three months. Oh, and in the middle of all of this, my dad had a heart attack and my youngest brother also went through a nasty break-up and divorce (as an aside, our divorces were final within one week of each other; mine 7/24 and his 7/31, something I'll never forget).

Frankly, I'm surprised I didn't go totally bonkers because I was doing much of this by myself (although I did have incredible support from family and friends and certainly managed to have some fun along the way (thanks, Nathaniel)).

Anyway, it's eleven years later and the circumstances behind the move, although not 100% happy-happy joy-joy, are positive.

Still. Still. Moving IS stressful. And time consuming. And complicated. There are so many balls in the air at once and you really cannot drop any of them. Not only that, I feel as though I have to watch everyone else involved to ensure they don't drop any balls, either. I have a huge Excel workbook with multiple sheets in it, each one with a ca-zillion "to dos". Mr. B and I have assigned who is doing what and so far that is mostly working, with the only real problem being every time I strike one off, I seem to add five more. Mr. B tells me every day, "We're getting stuff done!", and, he's right, we are. In fact, frankly, I think we may be overly efficient as at times we're sitting around waiting for other people to do what they are supposed to and it seems mighty slow. I have to work hard on curbing my ex HRD persona and riding herd on those who don't return phone calls or emails as quickly as I feel they should OR who don't behave the way I believe they should. Mr. B sighs and probably wishes he could keep me half-snookered all of the time so that I'd chill out.

In my defense, it's extremely difficult to chill out when it's 100 plus degrees with high humidity such that it feels as though it's 115. And, this is likely one reason why things don't move along as quickly as I'd wish; it's hard to move quickly, period.

So, some of those most stressful/sad (for me) things about moving et al this go-around (including the fore mentioned aspect of people not having the same sense of urgency that I do) are:

Identifying and selling roughly 1/3 of our furniture. Or, hoping to sell it; whatever doesn't sell gets donated and written off. Although we opted for a smaller house, it's still somewhat sad to have to part with some of the things we've both had for many, many years.

Preparing for a moving sale. Wow, what a hassle! At times, I've found myself wondering if this is really going to be worth the effort.

Getting the current house ready to go onto the market/selling it. I've bitched enough about this so I won't go any further.

Having to leave the current house empty while we bop off to FL. I know I can't wait to get to FL, but, I feel "bad" for this house sitting here all by itself.

Worrying about the pets, well, really the cats, as we travel to FL. They've never had to deal with being in the car longer than 1/2 hour, let alone staying in a hotel room for several days.

Fretting about ALL the pets and how they'll adjust to their new home.

Money. Moving is not cheap. Everything requires money! You know it going in, but, after several weeks of writing checks for this or that, it wears on the soul.

Ok, enough negative crap. Across the miles, I can hear my Father saying to me as he reads this, "No crisis before its time, Christina!" And, my former Executive Coach just commented on one of my pissy Facebook status updates and reminded me that I am the Captain of My Soul and not to let things ruin my day.

I think I just needed to rant a bit, and, frankly, remembering that move back in 2000 really did help me appreciate how much improved the move circumstances are now compared to then.

Mrs. B

The Morning Turkey Ritual

2011-07-25T10:24:00.003-04:00

Every morning, Mr. B gives Apollo and Lucy (and sometimes others but it's always Apollo and Lucy) bits of turkey lunch meat. Note how Mr. B has managed to train Apollo to sit (or, has Apollo trained Mr. B?) and how nicely Lucy the Goosie is sharing these days!

Mrs. B

Mom's Birthday Trip

2011-07-22T14:00:00.008-04:00

For my mom's 70th, I presented her with four options to choose from for an all expenses paid mini-vacation. The only hitch was that I got to go along :-)

She selected the wine tasting trip (I wasn't terribly surprised!) We went on Wednesday and had a grand time!

Here are a few pictures! BTW, I'd recommend this gift idea for anyone who struggles with what to get someone who has pretty much everything they already need. I must give credit for the idea to my dear Mr. B.

At Ragapple Lassie, our first stop of the trip. Since I'm in the process of moving and already have enough wine that I have to either drink or figure out how to move, I didn't buy any wine this time but their wine is so tasty! Mom bought a few bottles.

Posing with the winery's mascot.

As always, mom managed to cut off someone's head. At least it wasn't mine! Can you tell how hazy it was? It was HOT HOT HOT!

At another favorite winery. All Italian varietals and the tasting room looks like an Italian villa. Lovely grounds, too. Oh, I did buy one bottle here; a fizzy dry rose. Figured it'd be refreshing as we all weather the heat here in NC.

We tried one I've never been to before, Laurel Grey. The tasting room was housed in this little milking barn. The wines were quite good. They also had various dipping and dessert sauces for us to taste.

Pretty roses!

Dinner was at Harvest Grill on Shelton Vineyard's property. A fantastic four course meal and a bottle of estate Chardonnay. Yum yum yum.

The view from our hotel room the next morning. Another hot one!

Mom and daughter tasting at Shelton Vineyards. We had a great TRA (tasting room attendant; my term). She was very generous with the pours and allowed us to taste more than the allotted amount. Too bad I had to drive us home or else we may have stayed there a few hours!

What a fun trip. I will never get tired of hanging out and talking with my mom!

Mrs. B

Update on the Cats of B!

2011-07-16T08:26:00.006-04:00

In all of the general excitement of late and drama with Lucy, the poor cats have not had the opportunity to be in the spotlight. Not that they care, mind you; but, I'd be remiss if I didn't post a few pictures of them with an update on their lives. Oh, and yesterday was a red-letter day. In preparation for our upcoming move (and to abate my paranoia that one of them may get out of the car during the road trip), we went to Pet Smart to get each one of them a collar and a tag. We put the collars on them and watched the fireworks erupt. After they were on a bit, we took them back off until the move (and Mr. B removed the damn little tinkle bells; how annoying!)

Pete has spent his summer (to date) enjoying the fact he has no clumps and mats of fur. After a day or so of being totally horrified after his lion cut, he realized it wasn't so bad, after all. He's become quite insistent on getting pets in the morning and has taken to jumping up onto our chairs at the table and demanding a lot of adoration. Pete's collar is a majestic, royal purple, as befitting the king of our cat colony. He took the collaring in stride; in fact, you couldn't hardly see it underneath that mane of his.

Lily resembled a little wrinkled lizard after her lion cut procedure. If anything, the elimination of much of her fur has increased her feisty factor. She continues to get into everything and be everywhere. Perhaps in retaliation for her hair cut, she's taken to chewing on my hair in the mornings while I'm still in bed and during the day, she jumps up onto my chair and tries to climb up my back to get at my ponytail. Her collar is pink with sparkles. She was very interested in it BEFORE it was put on her; after which, she tried to eat the tag.

Ares continues to be devoted to Pete and just Pete. Unfortunately for Ares, Pete pretty much despises him. Ares is very nice to look at; he has such unusual coloring and his face is very expressive. It's too bad his personality wasn't as good as the exterior package. Maybe we shouldn't have named him after the God of War; if we'd called him Sweet Cakes or Stud Muffin, might he be friendlier? Ares's collar is a light blue. He attacked Mr. B when he tried to put it on him; I finally got it on as he was eating. He promptly freaked out and ran around the house on a wild tear, eventually getting the collar off. Well, if he gets lost on the move, I doubt Mr. B would loose any sleep over it! Sigh.

Athena is our little quiet mouse; keeping a fairly low profile except for when she starts to play with one of her toys. Then, she sounds unnervingly like a woman in the throes of passion. She is still petrified of Mr. B but is starting to come around a little bit; usually when she's ready to eat, she'll forget she's petrified of him and rub up against his legs. She continues her somewhat destructive habit of chewing on everything, despite the many applications of Bitter Yuck. Her collar is also pink and, surprisingly enough, she didn't wig out overly much once it was put on her.

Our man Apollo continues to steal the show on a daily basis. His is so entirely laid back now; amazing, considering what he was like when he first came to us. One of his very favorite places to be is in the perch by the window. While the other cats are roaming about causing trouble, he's usually there kicking back; unless he downstairs begging Mr. B for turkey or to be fed; then, he does his best "Camillo" act of flopping down on the floor and pretending his dying. It's quite comical. His collar is bright red and he looks very handsome wearing it. He freaked out a bit at first, but soon decided to just chill out.

Mrs. B

The Forgotten Thought Place

2011-06-24T09:46:00.003-04:00

Is there a place where forgotten thoughts go? These thoughts sit around in a waiting room, or, a holding tank; maybe something like a prison cell, waiting for the moment when, whomever it was that at one time thought them, remembers them once again? Does some sort of warden or jailer come into the cell and gruffly shout out, “You! “Forgotten Thought Number 7,821; otherwise known as “Hmmm…should I take an Italian class this year?” Get over, here, you’ve been re-thought!”

Can these forgotten thoughts only be re-thought by their original thinker, or, can they be re-allocated to another person that might have had that very same thought at some other point in time? Are there several of the same forgotten thoughts hanging out together in this cell? “That corner over there, that’s where the “Don’t forget to buy cat litter” thoughts assemble, and over there, those are the “What was I going to do when I got upstairs?” thoughts.”?

Or, is there only one of these thoughts in existence, such that, if that thought is occupied, it cannot be thought of at that same time by anyone else in the universe?

Are there possibly many similar thoughts, with, perhaps, slight variations in how and when they were thought? One might be a long, drawn out thought and another might be fleeting? One might arrive in the middle of the night, while another one materializes when one is shaving one’s legs?

Could the same concept go for long-forgotten objects? Is there a special holding tank for mis-placed people, places and things? Former co-workers? Ex-lovers? Your grandparent’s old farmhouse that you used to visit frequently but have long since let slip out of your mind? Pets you used to have? Books you read but don’t recall? Cars that your parents used to drive? Things that you put down and then never found again, e.g., earrings, half-written letters, the odd tube of lipstick, the little latch keys that are hung over the doorways to bathrooms so that little children cannot get locked inside them?

What about emotions? Haven’t you heard someone exclaim “That sunset was so awesome, I forgot to be sad!” or, “The situation was so absurdly funny, I forgot that I was angry!”?

Are “Sad” and “Angry” hanging out in a cell somewhere too? Sad is sitting over in the corner steadily weeping while Angry bangs on the iron bars demanding to be let out?

This cell (or cells) could be quite the interesting place to visit, or, it could be quite alarming.

Could you imagine walking into this cell and being simultaneously bombarded by all of your forgotten thoughts and misplaced nouns (people, places and things)? Come to think of it, this could be a new sort of capital punishment; death by all of the thoughts and nouns in your life that you carelessly forgot or misplaced.

Or, maybe that punishment would be more fitting if the condemned was attacked only by their forgotten thoughts and misplaced nouns that were mean, hurtful, shameful, scary, evil and sad?

Can you imagine what the enactment of your death sentence might be?

And, for those people that are, for the most part, honorable and decent and loving and caring, well, perhaps their reward is just the opposite. At their end, they will walk into a room full of their loving, generous, happy, sweet, warm and caring forgotten thoughts and misplaced nouns.

Maybe I’ve simply just described one concept of heaven and hell.

Mrs. B's High School Graduation. 30 Years Ago Today!

2011-06-18T09:02:00.004-04:00

I suppose a lady isn't meant to admit how old she is, but, in this day and age, with 50 being the new 40 and 40 being the new 30 et al, that puts me under 40. Not to mention, I'm just happy to be alive. As should we all.

Anyway. 30 years ago. June 18, 1981. I'll never forget the day because of the obvious, 18 is the reverse of 81 (you know what I mean). Also, it is Sir. Paul McCartney's birthday; not that I really cared but Peri, my best friend in high school did. Now, the date is shared with my step-daughter's birthday, AKA The Kid (she is nineteen years old today, BTW) so I REALLY won't ever forget.

San Diego, California June 18, 1981. My Father was in town for the ceremony, he stayed next door with our neighbors. They were unusual folks, worthy of a blog topic unto themselves. Anyway, their living room is where these pictures were taken. My younger sister Kathy, also one of my best friends, was posing with us.

Somewhere I have pictures of the ceremony, post ceremony, and the party my parents had for me later that evening. What fun. My boyfriend Greg was there; as was his family and many of my family's friends. I remember that, after the party, Greg and I headed out to do whatever; we drove around and around the Mission Beach area until we finally decided to stop and have a late night snack at Denny's. I'm sure we were doing other things as well, but, this is a G-Rated post so I won't go into that.

Not too many days after, the whole fam-damily headed East to Indiana for our annual road trip to visit grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. That particular summer, I was dropped off in Columbus, OH, where my step-mom picked me up and drove me on to Cleveland where I spent several weeks with her and my Father (who, BTW, had flown on to somewhere else after the graduation festivities; work-related, no doubt). Although I had a good time with them (as I always did), I was moping around quite a bit because I missed Greg. When I got back to San Diego, my dad started in on me about getting a summer job because he certainly didn't want me goofing off for the remaining month or so before I started college at San Diego State University. I ended up at a fast-food joint called Carl's Jr. I absolutely HATED working there and thankfully I only did so for about nine months.

I've been reading some of the articles in the local paper here in Durham about various recent high school graduates. These stories highlight both their accomplishments while in high school and their plans for the future. Some have been quite impressive, but, I must admit, they've left me feeling a bit odd. It seems the kids today are a lot older than I was when I graduated; more responsible with a heck of a lot more ambition and drive. I didn't really pick up those two traits until my mid twenties. Maybe I was just a late bloomer? But, nah, I think back on the majority of my friends and peers (at least those that I was hanging around with in the early 80s) and I don't seem to recall any of us having a lot of purpose. Here are the things I cared about that summer of '81:

1. Greg

2. Friends

3. Having fun

4. Not getting caught doing things I wasn't supposed to be doing

5. Going to the mall(s)

6. My shift at work being OVER

7. Going to the beach/getting a good tan

8. Drinking ice tea and smoking while blabbing away with Peri, Kathy and Lynda at Carl's Jr.

(interestingly enough, even though I hated working there, I loved hanging out there)

9. Avoiding responsibility

10. Avoiding thinking about anything that led me down the path to responsibility

So, yeah, thinking about college, what I was going to study, what I was going to do with the rest of my life, nope. Didn't make the list. DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Those of you who know me now but didn't when I was a teenager can go verify this with those who did know me. Despite how well I did in high school grade-wise, I was a total flaky party girl from the moment I graduated high school until July of 1987 when I began my career in Human Resources at TRW. Just ask:

1. My parents

2. My sister Kathy

3. My best friend Peri and her sister Lynda

4. My best friends from college Kathleen and Don

5. Boyfriends I had during those years (then again, nah, don't ask them!)

So, back to the kids today. Or, even MY step-kid. They seem so darn mature. Whenever I spoke to or saw The Kid during this past year (her first at college), she usually seemed stressed out about her studies and always busy doing something that I'd probably classify as "Not Fun". I'd tell her, "Be sure to have some fun!" "I don't have time for fun!" she'd reply. "No time for fun? Perish the thought!", I thought. Heck, she's going to have plenty of time in her life to be serious and work hard. I certainly know this now and am thankful I can at least look back on my younger days and remember how much fun I had. In fact, I actually believe it prepared me to work hard later on. I was so darn rested up from having all that fun, I was ready to go full bore out for about 20 years (before I decided it was time to stop all that working crap and go have more fun!)

Anyway, maybe responsibility comes with certain eras. I'm fairly sure that my grandparents didn't have time for all the fun business, and I don't think my parents did, either. I guess those of us in the 70s and 80s were pretty lucky but times, they changed after that, it seems. My youngest brother didn't appear to have a whole heck of a lot of fun after he graduated from high school (compared to my other brother whom I think did, at least judging from all the times he asked me to buy him beer). Now, The Kid, almost twenty years later; nope, no fun.

Or, maybe she's just REALLY REALLY good at not getting caught :-)

Mrs. B

Questions Questions Questions

2011-06-09T09:44:00.006-04:00

I'm Blog stymied again so here are a round of random questions I found on-line just to get me writing!

Do you like to shop?

Yes. Quite a bit, actually; but not necessarily because I want or need a lot of things, I just have fun at it. I especially enjoy going to the grocery store. Always have.

How often do you go on-line?

Several times per day. In fact, I'm never really off-line when I'm at home. My laptop is almost always on.

What do you miss from your childhood?

Simplicity.

Who do you miss from your childhood?

Everyone and every pet that's now lost to me.

Are you usually late, early or right on time?

Early. Always early.

Are you happy with your life right now?

Mostly. There are lots of exciting changes a foot which can also be a tad overwhelming at times, but, in general, I'm happy.

You can have either trust or love. Which one?

You can't have love without trust. So, trust.

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

I've been to so many places that if I never went anywhere else again outside the US, I'd be ok with it. Having said that, I do want to get Mr. B to Italy one of these days.

Are you the kind of friend you'd want to have as a friend?

Yep.

Your best friend dies. What would you do.

One of my best friends did just recently die. I've done my best (and will continue to do so) to honor her memory. But, you have to go on with life (and she would have totally agreed). I suppose I'll do the same if and when the time ever comes again with another friend.

When was the last time you told someone HONESTLY how you felt?

I do this all of the time. Just ask Mr. B! However, there have been a few people that I've refrained from telling them how I felt about something they did/didn't do because I decided it wasn't worth it. You have to pick and choose your battles and pick and choose the relationships that are important enough to you to risk loosing.

What would be harder for you; to tell someone that you love them or to tell someone that you do not love them back?

Definitely the latter.

What would be the hardest thing for you to give up?

Since the word is "thing" I'm staying away from live beings like people or pets. I'm going with financial independence.

Would you give a homeless person CPR if they were dying in front of you?

Uh, wow. I think so, but I have to admit, I'd probably a) call 911 on my cell phone first and b) hope someone else jumped in before me.

Are you old-fashioned?

Not really, except about certain things such as SENDING THANK YOU NOTES, damnit!

What would you choose? True love with a guarantee of heartache or never to love at all?

Well, that's just a totally inane question. Besides, I don't have to choose, it's already happened. You love someone, you can bet your sweet bippy at some point your heart is going to ache.

If you could wish for anything to come true, what would you wish?

Right now the most obvious wish would be that my step-mother was back with us, totally healthy.

What's your middle name?

Nee Christina.

How big is your bed?

King.

What music are you listening to right now?

None.

What was the last thing you ate?

Pot Sticker Pad Thai.

How is the weather right now?

It's a SCORCHER! And, it's also really, really humid. Ugh.

Who was the last person you hugged?

Mr. B.

What was the last movie you watched?

The King's Speech.

What movie will you watch next?

Likely the most recent (on DVD) Harry Potter movie.

What are you currently reading?

I have five going on right now. The White Queen. Catcher in the Rye. Schooled. Remarkable Creatures. Wherever You Go, There You Are.

What's on the agenda for today?

After I get off my butt doing this survey, I will work out, go to the store, and continue to pack up stuff around the house in preparation for our move.

Anything exciting coming up?

A trip to FL at the end of the month.

What is something you'd happily do again?

Go on a cruise.

Ok, enough questions! Time to get a move on!

Mrs. B

Indy 500 Weekend Pictures

2011-06-01T16:58:00.002-04:00

Click here to view these pictures larger

Carb Day at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway 5.27.11

2011-05-28T10:51:00.002-04:00

Mrs. B with two of her best friends in the world, Don and Kathleen W. Great times!

Home Staging

2011-05-24T14:57:00.010-04:00

Note: I don't really know about these statistics, I was just looking for an image for this entry. I do think, though, the homes that are nicely staged probably do sell quicker.

We're in the process of putting our house onto the market. Yeah, not the best time to be doing this, but, it IS the best time to be buying on the other end, so, a little bit of this for a little bit of that. Or, as we hope, a lot of that in a few years when the market recovers and the house we end up buying in FL at a lowish price will go back up towards its original value.

Anyway. This company we're using approaches things a bit differently, which, given the market, is likely a good thing. I can tell you that there have been houses in our neighborhood on the market for well over a year and, as far I can tell, their agents are doing squat. In fact, having run into this with other agents in my life, the agents are likely telling their clients, "Well, sorry your house isn't selling but it's just the market right now". Uh-huh. As you do absolutely nothing and blame it on the environment (are you reading this, Amy Pomera$$?)

I digress. The home stagers came by last Friday to check out the house of B and give advice/recommendations regarding what we might do to improve the way the house shows. Now, considering we plan on being out of the house when it's put on the market, this was a somewhat unusual meeting. Normally, they'd come in and recommend that half the furniture be removed and that it all be placed in temporary storage. Also, nothing on the counters, no signs of pets (oh yes, that'd definitely be a cinch in this household), the majority of your clothing packed away, etc., etc. And, yes, the usuals; touch up paint (or maybe an entire new paint job), carpets cleaned, power wash the house, windows cleaned, blah blah blah. Oh, and flowers! Put lots and lots of flowers in the front of the house. Buyers LOVE flowers!

I'll admit, I was both skeptical and resistant. However, the ladies won me over by first exclaiming how wonderful the house looked and what a fantastic job we did in upgrading just about everything. Really, their suggestions were minor and after thinking about them, I guess I can see why they offer them up.

One of the stagers told me that people tend to simply forget most of the houses after they've seen 15 or 20 of them in a day, especially if they were distracted by stuff in the houses. At the end of the day when discussing what they saw, they may only remember, "Oh, yeah, that was the house with the funky furniture in the living room" or, "Oh, that house. Hmmm...I don't even remember anything about it except I really liked their taste in books". So, in other words, what the stagers aim to do with their recommendations is remove anything that could be a potential distraction (or, worse, a major turn off) and show off THE HOUSE.

Which is why they love showing empty houses. Well, not totally empty; they bring in a few pieces of art or vases or mirrors or some such to highlight and accent important areas of the house (kitchen, master bedroom, master bathroom) but, NO furniture (they don't want the buyers to say, "Oh, our furniture would never look as good in this house as this furniture does").

If it turns out that the house hasn't sold before we move out (which is likely since it's not officially on the market), they feel, given the way it has been upgraded and maintained, it'll sell quickly. Good, considering how much we're losing on it. May as well get the pain over and done with.

In the meantime, IF someone wants to see it before we move out, they suggested the general things such as taking down family pictures, removing any religious relics/artifacts/icons (not that we have any) OR any that could be construed as such (i.e., a wind chime we have hanging out front that is a sun with a face) and, as best we can, hide pet-stuff (put away food bowls, beds, toys, etc.) Also, take down the large quilts we have in the living room/stairwell because, again, someone may get distracted by them.

Mr. B and I had a long discussion about it all after they left and decided we'll do some of what they suggested but not everything. Pictures, wall hangings; well, we'll have to take them down and pack them up, anyway and he will need to start patching up nail holes, etc. Pet stuff we can deal with and I suppose that wind chime can come down. They also recommended we remove the small garden flag in the front yard that has a bluebird on it and says "Welcome". I'm not taking that down. If someone gets distracted or offended by a welcome sign, screw them.

Books! Oh, they'd love for us to box up all of our books now but we're not going to, or, at least, we'll do so as we please. Mr. B quipped when I was wondering if someone would get offended by my books on Tarot, "Oh, don't mind the books but be careful where you step when you go into the blood sacrifice room, we haven't had time to clean it up since our last ritual".

I guess buyers can be real fickle and there is a lot of competition out there. Any advantage you can use, they say, will help.

Which is why we asked them to put another for sale sign in our backyard so that buyers going to look at the house for sale directly belows ours (same model but nowhere near as nice) will look up, see ours, notice the sign and say, "Wait, I want to see that one before I decide!" Maybe the folks down below us putting their house on the market will be fortuitous for us.

So, yes, yes, yes; I get what the stagers are saying and in this dog eat dog real estate market, you have to think outside the box". Yes, maybe someone will waltz into our house, love it, but then see a picture of one of our young nieces or nephews and say, "Oh, I can't buy this house! They have a child who looks just like the one we lost five years ago". Or, see the Tarot books and think "Devil worshipers! No way!"

Of course, I'd like to think they'd be paying more attention to the floor plan, the flooring, the sun room, the gourmet kitchen, the cherry cabinets, the granite, the lush lawn, the fenced yard, etc. but I know not everyone is as logical as we are by a long shot.

And, to be 100% truthful, I've been known to refer to houses by something odd that was in it (sometimes even the owners who were sitting in it when we looked at it), or, a bizarre decorating accent (one of the houses I looked at on-line in Sarasota I refer to as "The funky bathroom tile house") and have rejected them for these things. I've walked into houses, smelled cigarette smoke, and turned around and walked back out without looking at it. One house I looked at in Colorado Springs had a big pile of dog crap in the middle of one bedroom. Yes, it became "That crappy dog house". And, one in Sarasota had cat puke on the bedroom carpet. So, yes, pets can be problematic. Which, again, is why we are not really planning on showing the house until we're all out.

The stagers said, "You're lucky. There are some houses that we've seen that we've recommended $20,000 or more in improvements/changes". Lucky? I think not. I think, "We're SMART and we've taken excellent care of our house".

One stager said, "You should have seen the house we looked at this morning. PHEW. Yours is one of the best that I've ever seen".

Let's hope a buyer thinks so!

Mrs. B

6 Wonderful Years!

2011-05-14T09:47:00.004-04:00

Our anniversary is Monday. We're heading down to Charleston to celebrate and to revisit the memories of our lovely wedding day and honeymoon trip there.

Here is one of my favorite wedding pictures taken just after the brief ceremony, with only the officiate and a lone surfer dude (sprawled out on the sand near where we were married) as witnesses.

A dear friend said to me upon meeting Mr. B, "Sweetie! He's WONDERFUL! You make sure you marry that man!"

And so, on May 16th 2005 at 5:16 pm, I did. And thus began the journey into the best years of my life.

Mrs. B

Happy Mother's Day 2011

2011-05-08T10:23:00.003-04:00

Roberta, Margot, Mrs. and Mr. B, Dina

June 2005

To Dina, who gave birth to me and who is my best friend.

To Roberta, who became my mother through marriage but who I've come to consider a dear friend.

To my beloved Margot, who was my step-mother, but really my second mother since I was five and was my #1 fan and whom I cherish and honor and miss every single day.

I wish you a Happy Mother's Day.

I love you all.

Mrs. B

Status Updates

2011-05-05T10:27:00.005-04:00

(I apologize for the weird formatting on this entry. I don't know what is going on and I've tried to fix it several times, which means I've spent about two hours on this entry. Enough! Read on!)

I'll admit it; sometimes as I'm walking the dog or doing stuff around the house, things pop into my head that I might post as status updates on Facebook. Sometimes these are brief and perhaps cryptic (these typically get comments from my friends such as "?" or "Huh"); others may be quite lengthy (like a run-on rant). Or, it may pertain to something very specific such as "I love my mom" (much such as this is currently being posted by many on Facebook due to Mother's Day fast approaching). As an example, here are several of my most recent status updates and/or posts, along with any comments.

Me (status update): Phew. Think we made it through the barrage of storms, at least until next time. Thanks to all for your positive vibes. Keep 'em coming, though, the storms are still in Eastern NC. Hopefully, they'll blow out to the water and steer clear of my family and pals northward. Now, on to much more fun thoughts, such as, what shall I wear tonight to Mr. B's firm's party. The cool down is weather has mucked up my options!

SIL Analee: great weather for runnin' though! which is what i'll be doing. have a great time!

Friend Kathleen: These storms will be gone by May 25th, right? How was the party?

Me: Hopefully. It's been highly unusual. However, it's not uncommon to get tornadoes in Indy around race time. Have I not ever shared with you the infamous "meatloaf" story from the race in 2004? The party was fine. The last one of these we'll attend!

Me (status update): Procrastination: Something I've yet to out grow!

Friend Greg: procrastination? I'll get to that tomorrow...

Me: Ha ha! Me too!

SIL Analee: yet another way we are alike, and so i know what i have to look forward to in the future.. :)

Col George: Was going to comment, but guess I'll think about it for a while....

Me (status update): So, the other day I said something about Apollo barfing in the cat box. Now, this pops up on my ad bar. Sometimes Facebook is out and out creepy how they Big Brother you, huh?

"Promote National Hairball Awareness Day! Play the Hairball Battle game and cough up a mess on your Facebook friends! Yuck!"

Friend Ellen: oh that is just not good at all....ewwww

Col George: Coincidence? I wonder.

Friend Heather: my Purina Petcentric page says it is National Hairball Awareness Day! So, Happy Hairball Awareness Amy... & your furry friends!!! Thanks for restraint related to not "yucking" up your FB friends. We appreciate that!

Me (status update): Tonight I shall lay me down to sleep, one less terrorist this world does keep. With all my heart I give my thanks, to those in uniform regardless of ranks. You serve our country and serve it well, with humble hearts your stories tell. So when I rest my weary eyes, while freedom rings our flag still flies. You give your all, do what you must. With God we live and in God we trust (as an aside, I "stole" this status update from my SIL Kym B)

Col George: Amen

Dad B: Well said Amy - ex G I Your FIL

Me (status update): A splendid day of shopping with mom today. Have now completed my trousseau for our Charleston trip. Then, a leisurely lunch at a quaint Italian bistro. Wine, margherita pizza and a good, long chat. I love my mom :-)

SIL Analee: i love her too!

Friend Kathleen: Me too!

CIL Cindy: Well, honey, you are lucky...you are her DAUGHTER. I have to settle for being her niece by marriage, but I'll take it, 'cause frankly, I LOVE HER TOO! She is one of the coolest, most beautiful women I know and her style and grace are amazing!!!

Me (status update) : I know Mother's Day is Sunday and believe me I've always honored all of my moms! But, it's 5.5 and, well, it's MARGARITA time first!

Me: And this is most especially for you, Cindy

CIL Cindy: ♥ U!!!!

Friend Don S: I make it a point of mentally skipping that day. May is a way bad month for me. Peri can explain.

Me: I understand, Don. This is how I felt about February and now how I feel about March. I think as we get older, sooner or later, there will be something "sad" or "hard" about every month of the year. This begs the question; is it best to be the one remembered or the one doing the remembering?

Ok, now that I've gone through the process of cutting and pasting these updates/comments from Facebook to my Blog, I'm gonna take a different track on this post then where I originally was headed as a bunch of thoughts popped into my head.

Why do people choose to comment on some status updates yet not others? This pertains to me as well. I suppose it's similar to whether or not you might decide to join into a particular conversation at a cocktail party or in the break room at work. You may BE there and listen (this is called "lurking" on Facebook) but keep your mouth shut. You may be the first person to say something in response to what someone said, or, you may not enter into the fray until someone else has gone first. I know on Facebook there are times I'll read someone's status update and think, "Hmmm..." but not comment. Later, I may see the others have commented and sometimes what THEY say is either more intriguing than the original status update OR it pushes my button enough for me to decide "I've gotta say something to THIS!"

Of course, there is always the possibility that some people just aren't around/on Facebook enough to catch all of the status updates; either didn't attend the party or was in the bathroom during that particular conversation!

It's sorta cool how easy it is to have multiple conversations going on at once. Although this can turn into a severe time-waster, it's really simple to jump around from my wall to three or four other friends' walls and see what's going on, pop into the conversation, leave, come back, etc.

I really enjoy seeing the interaction between my friends, especially the ones who don't even know one another in real life. Most of the time, that is. There was one time when things got a bit heated and I had to go delete a few of the comments on my wall because they were a bit nasty or snide. That doesn't happen too often, though, but, it seems when it does, the person whose wall the conversation is on will act as a sort of mediator and also the final authority of whether the conversation will continue. Another fascinating aspect of Facebook which in real life would be impossible to do; delete from the universe what someone said! Of course, it's not really deleted because it was posted and someone (and possibly many someones) read it. Once, another Facebook friend deleted a bunch of comments from his wall and got chastised for it by some of his friends. Or, rather, challenged, as in, "Hey, you can't just delete what people say!" To which he had some thoughtful commentary but eventually said, "My wall, my rules". I liked that!

The format people choose to write in probably says something about that person and their personality/how they view things. Look at the above updates/comments. I always try to follow the rules of grammar on Facebook. I capitalize, use punctuation, etc. As an aside, I do this when I text, also. Several of my friends do the same. Some do not (and not just my SIL Analee; she's just the only one in these particular examples). I know Analee is a very exacting person about most everything in her life (which is why she commented that we are a lot alike). However, she is NOT that way with her writing (on Facebook) which leads me to believe that she doesn't view Facebook as a place where she NEEDS to be. (Am I correct in this, Analee?) Also, there are many who like to use the little symbols in their comments, or tag friends in the status update/comment so that they appear on that friend's wall. I do this from time to time but not terribly often.

Some things are just out and out drop dead hysterical to me. Whether it be on my wall or I see it somewhere else, sometimes, there will be either a status update or a comment that just sends me into fits; the kind where if I were drinking something, it'd likely spurt out my nose through my laughter. This, in my opinion, is one of the BEST things about the whole Facebook thing. Here is an example of a recent one (off of my nephew's wall):

Zack: 9 years, 7 months, and 20 days.. and now he is finally dead.

Zack's Friend: Who??

Zack: ... Osama

Zack's Friend: Oh him

I'm still giggling over this one! Just like whenever I think of my Father shouting "Bella!" while I was in the middle of kicking his butt in a card game puts me in a good mood :-)

Anyway, I've now spent an hour writing about Facebook, which goes to show Facebook can be a time-waster even when one isn't even ON it!

And with this, here are a few status updates (what I was originally going to blog about) that have not yet made it onto Facebook. Yep, you read it HERE first and feel free to comment :-)

Insurance companies and banks. Two of my least favorite institutions. No wonder this country is in such a damn mess!

So, the idiots across the street now how a dog. Joy.

Having dinner with The Kid tonight at her request. Her dad is delighted!

My mom's creeping Charley has given up the ghost.

I somehow managed to resist Royal Caribbean's WOW sale. It was the right thing to do, but, I'm slightly depressed about it!

After years of drinking my coffee white and sweet, I'm reverting to white only. Weird how tastes can suddenly change.

Gloop. What do you expect from a pig but a grunt?

Mrs. B