Happy Birthday Dear Jimmy

My husband turned 70 on March 29th.  Which, weirdly enough, is also my ex-husbands birthday.

Jim's son, Jason, made the decision to fly in for the day and surprise his dad.   I wanted to save the "kid" (in his 40's) cab fare so offered to pick him up at the airport.  Needed to keep his visit a secret so told Jim we were picking up a friend.

"Who?" he asked.

"Charki.  And she's flying in on Southwest, landing in Tampa."   That was the first friend who popped into my brain.  Charki lives 45 minutes south of us in St. Petersburg.  Charki is a retired United Airlines employee.  Naturally she always flies United because it's free for her.

Happily,  Jim didn't pick up on that odd bit.  Rather lovely to be married to a vaguely obtuse man.

We boogied to airport at about 3 p.m.   "Charki" was to land at 3:50.  Parked in the cell phone lot and began watching the giant light up board for arriving flights.   The plane departed from Midway, Chicago.  NO Chicago flights are on the electronic sign.

Jim begins to grill me, "Are you SURE it's coming into Tampa?  And you SURE it's not St. Pete."
"Yup, I'm certain."

Five minutes roll by and again he says, "Are you certain?  There are no Chicago flights on the board.  I think you should call Doug!"  (her husband)
"Don't have his number"  Lie lie lie
"Then call (mutual friends) Brookie and Earl.  Get Doug's number.  And
 what's the flight number?  You should always get the flight number!"

I cannot call from my phone. The call would have been broadcast loudly from my bluetooth, which I have no idea how to disable because that would require reading the manual.  I don't do manuals, I just pound on buttons and turn knobs until (maybe) something works out.

Texted B and E saying, "I'll be calling, please play along."  Then I called. Hooray, neither picked up.

Emailed Jason, "DO NOT TEXT OR CALL ME WHEN YOU LAND. (damn Bluetooth again)
" JUST EMAIL.  And, oh by the way, are you landing in Tampa?" (Please please please be landing in Tampa or I'm toast.)

By now my normally rarely-wants-to-murder-me husband is fuming.  No Chicago flights on Big Board.  No way to reach Charki.  And furthermore, why did Charki not fly directly to St. Pete where she lives?

At long last Jason emailed, "On the ground.  Will be standing at Southwest arrival wearing plaid shirt and red back pack."

"Hooray Jimmy,  Charki landed. She will be wearing plaid.   And a red back pack."
That bit caught Jim's ear....Charki, in plaid?  Charki is known for crisp white shirts, flowy scarves, hip jewelry, cute color coordinated cross body bags.  When he pointed out the curiousness of this I simply said, "She likes plaid for flying."  Seems I've easily grown into being a big fat liar.

Cruised along arrival area until I spotted Jason.  Jim, looking keenly for Charki in her unique new ensemble, never noticed Jason until he pounded on the driver side window.  The look on Jim's face was worth all the lying, sweating, fretting and enormous anxiety attack.

Secret kept! Cloak and dagger stuff accomplished.  Marriage survived!  Yay.   Altogether great day.

Plus neighbor Lynda baked him an awesome Girl Scout Thin Mints birthday cake.  That's it in the photo.  5 candles, one for every fourteen years.  Needed a calculator to figure it out.  :) Just to be sure I counted it out with my hoof.

I am an  awful knitter.  When I first began I dropped so many stitches you could fit your head through the holes in my scarves.  So I'd knit patches to cover the holes.  Then I'd sew buttons over the holes in the patches.

My first attempts at scarves were really weird.  12 inches wide in spots, 4 inches in other places.  But that didn't stop me from handing these odd things out to friends.  One was so heavy and thick I think my buddy had to crawl because it dragged her to the ground.

I only knit in the car.  Jim and I take long road trips.  He hates the way I drive.  I hate the way he drives right back.  He follows too closely causing me to have to press the imaginary brake in the passenger seat footwell.

I took up knitting so I am looking down when he's driving.   Eyes on the needles!  We're both happier that way.

I suppose he hates my driving because I'm quite a bad driver.  I never knew it until a whole lot of people informed me.   I'm slow.  Hands nervously at two and ten.  I bought myself a darling Mini Cooper in 2005. I chose the fastest engine, manual transmission, British racing green and SO CUTE.  That fast engine was totally wasted on me. I probably never drove that puppy over 55 mph.   I swore I'd NEVER sell my Mini---her name was Maude.

Then, much to Jim's dismay, I opted to trade her in for a Mini Van.  Baby blue, Honda Odyssey named Stella.   We travel with our beloved dog, Bronson.  More about him in future posts.   I wanted him to have comfort.

The day we mini van shopped Jim brought along Maude's title.  He swore he'd only mini van shop ONCE, so we'd better damn well find the right car that day.

Well, he was wrong.  We mini van shopped twice.  I traded Stella in for a newer, slicker model.  Gracie. She's gray.  Creative, eh?   She has a little refrigerator in the front seat.  And she has a fine brake in the footwell of the passenger side.   :)

We'll take Gracie to Chicago in August.  I'll be knitting.  Anyone want a scarf?  I've gotten better!  Rarely drop stitches, but still add patches and buttons for fun.  All my new friends are Floridians.  I need some cold weather victims.  LMK if your neck needs warming up.

How to post comments on my blog

I asked someone young--they always know this technical stuff.    
What you do is click at the bottom of the blog post on the words "No Comments".   Voila a box pops open and you can post your little hearts out.    Yay!

No on to find a photo of a 1960s hair dryer.   The gum snapper had no clue what they look like.

Here is more great stuff about being sixty five!

Being sixty five is good because I now get Medicare, who doesn't like to save at the Doctors office?   
Geriatric stuff will soon be advertised on my old peoples blog ---Stuff like Cialis. I love that name "Cialis". 
 In my brain I spell it "See Alice."  tee hee. 

Here is a list of great stuff for us oldies.

Discounted Memberships, Travel, Entertainment, and More: Numerous clubs, retail stores, hotels, restaurants, and other organizations that begin their discount programs at 65 years old. Here is a very short list of a few.

· Boston Market offers 10% off   
LOVE BOSTON MARKET

· Taco Bell offers 5% off and/or a free beverage  

· Rite Aid offers a 25% discount off the first Wednesday of each month  
I don't think we have Rite Aid here in Q-tip country.  We Floridians are called Q-tips because to the drivers behind us we look like little fluffy white blobs,  our heads barely above the head rest.

· Alaska Airlines offer 10% off

· American Airlines offers several discounts

· InterContinental Hotels Group offers various discounts


· Southwest Airlines offers many discounts

· United Airlines offers numerous discounts  
(I had no idea!  We always fly United. Hopefully the discounts include terrific things like money and sparkly stuff.) 

· U.S. Airways offers varied discounts  The next few are blah blah blah saving.....If they help you, yay you...As for me, shrug and fuggetabout it.

· Carmike Cinemas offers 35% off

· AT&T offers their special Senior Nation 200 Plan for $29.99 a month

· Verizon Wireless offers their Verizon Nationwide 65 Plus Plan for $29.99 a month
· AARP Membership Discounts – Membership is only $16 a year and worth it for the discounts you can get.     

Okee Dokee all you big money advertising folk---time to find my blog and make me rich and famous.  I know you will.  It's just a matter of time.

Take a Gander at this and you'll understand

So, I explained in an earlier post why I was so smitten with this guy.  Betcha' get it now, huh?

Bovine belly-aching

I have been wrestling with this painting for months.  Three cows.  Canvas is 5 feet wide, four feet tall.
What?  You say you only see two cows?  Well, look closely.  You'll see the ghost of #3 there on the lower left hand corner.

They are a family.  Mom, Bossy, is in the middle.  Daisy is the ghost.  Maisie is on the right.

So far I've "killed" Daisy three times.  Paint her.  Hate her.  Obliterate her.
Our garage has been a bloodbath.  Whenever Bossy sees me approaching with my black paint loaded brush she trembles.  Meanwhile Maisie smirks.  Sibling rivalry being what it is, Maisie kind of likes Daisy meeting her demise on a regular basis.

This huge painting is destined for our kitchen wall.  Jim has been enormously patient with my plodding pace.  He buys into my lies that, "Art can't be rushed."  Tee Hee.   My bad.

I'm considering painting a tombstone onto the left side...."R.I.P. Daisy."

BUT, the fact that I've not finished the painting is GOOD BECAUSE when I finally do complete the cows we will enjoy and appreciate them all the more for having waited.  Yup.   That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

Now,  all you peeps go have a very good nice fun filled and possibly cow filled day.

Time to manifest a shower.   :)

I'm deaf. And this is good because.....

Jen Sincero writes that we need to think positive thoughts in order to manifest all great things in our world.  If there is something negative in your life, you tack on the words, "....and this is good because."

Tried it with my husband, Jim.  His was, "I'm bald.  And this is good because I don't have to comb my hair."

 I'm deaf.  I've been deaf for about 15 years.   Lost my hearing when I had pneumonia.

Being deaf is good because.....

Loud noises don't wake me up at night.
When I read I simply take out my hearing aids and instant quiet.
I get attention by saying, "I'm hearing impaired."
I'm learning to lip read.

Try this little exercise!  Last night I talked to a great friend who  has very little money.  She tried it.  She said, "Being poor is good because I don't have to worry about fluctuations in the stock market."

Keeping the positive vibrations flowing.  So, all of you, go forth and prosper.  Have a beautiful positive day.  Hooray for today.  Is anyone reading this?   Maybe not many, but eventually the multitudes will discover my blog and yay yay hip hip hooray I'll be rich and famous and tall with long legs.

I was told to put photos in my blog. So here are two!

This is my latest creative hobby.  I make wonky little dolls, decorate them with jewelry from my defunct Etsy shop and foist them off on friends.  This little lady went to live in Miami.  Her back story is that she's from Cuba.   She actually turned out pretty well.  Many of them have birth defects.
Like the chick below.   She was my first attempt.  Her feet look like frog feet.  Her back story?  Her mother was beautiful princess given to wandering the woods and kissing frogs.  One day the frog she kissed transformed into a handsome prince.  They married and this baby was the product of that union.  Clearly frog DNA was still in Dad's system.  I sent her to a friend in Pennsylvania where she now lives in a flower shop.

Another reason being old is awesome

Being old is terrific because I don't care as much what anyone thinks.  Sometimes I go entire days WITHOUT WEARING MAKEUP!   I started wearing make up in 10th grade.

I carried my cosmetics in a small white case.  It had handle on top.  I would sit at the kitchen table, morning light streaming in the back windows, and apply my eyes.  Mother used to say I should sign my chin when done.

Red heads have no natural color.  Well....I guess we do. White on white.  No color in our eyebrows.  No color in our lashes.  Freckles and hair on our heads is our only visible hue.

Now that I'm old I sometimes skip putting on a face!  That saves 20 minutes of my life for other stuff....like sitting on my ass and reading.   Or coloring.  Coloring is a delicious pastime.

If I added up all the time spent smearing on a face I'd have decades.  I'd likely also have no husband.
Guys tend to like women with visible faces.  However, once they are nabbed one can let themselves go!  Yay for being old.

Hey you guys, start reading my blog.  I am hungry for comments.

Soon I'll sort out how to post photos.  Mayhap a photo of me without makeup!  (NOT)

Ina Garten Rules!

I love the Barefoot Contessa.   If you don't use her recipes, start!  They are all marvelous.

I used to be considered a terrible cook.   My go to dinner party recipe was mom's "party chicken."
Boneless chicken breasts wrapped in bacon, smothered with Campbells cream of mushroom soup and sour cream.
It came to a place where one regular guest announced he wasn't coming if I was making "f'n" party chicken again.

Then I found Ina!  Last night we had dinner guests.  I served all Ina recipes.  Oven roasted chicken with lemon and onions.  Green beans gremolata.  Herbed basmati rice.   Yum Yum and double triple yum.  One guest gushed about how much he loves my cooking.  Clearly he never had my party chicken.   :)

barefootcontessa.com

I did go off the reservation and make key lime pie with Joe and Nellies key lime juice.  Easy Peezy and always delicious.  Made real whipped cream to top it and even zested a lime for garnish.  Yes, I'm awesome.  You will be too once you start making her recipes.

I love Ina.  Maybe I'll write her a letter today.  Or better yet, maybe she'll stumble across this blog.
Just as you have!   I know you are out there.  It's just a matter of time before you find me.  :)

Now, on to finish my book club book--Girls of Atomic City.   After you read Ina's recipes, go read that book.

Good Morning, Universe!

Today I found my meditating mind circling back to my youth.  It occurred to me that another great thing about being sixty five is the angst of my younger years is behind me.

When I didn't have much time booked on this planet everything seemed enormous!   Now, not so much.

For a time being my big anxiety centered around Carl Jacobson.  I clearly remember the hours/weeks/months fretting over him.  He was the dreamboat I "loved" in Junior High.  He was gorgeous in a Paul McCartney floppy hair way.

Carl played alto saxaphone, so I took up sax.   I planned to sit next to him in band practice.   Little did I know he was lead chair, I was last chair.  Our paths didn't cross.  Plus I learned playing sax was a pain--you had to put the dry reed into your mouth and hold it until it became flexible.  That made me gag.   Furthermore being in band involved wearing ugly black and gold wool uniforms with ridiculous tall feather adorned hats.

Another "nab Carl Jacobson" plan involved basic stalking.  Walking by his house.  Going wherever he might go.  Once I went to a MYF dance (Methodist Youth Fellowship) because rumor had it he'd be there. The passing clothing fad was denim pants that rolled up to just above the knees and wide horizontal stripe t-shirts.  Mine was navy and white, purchased at National 5 and 10 on Main Street, Newark, Delaware.

The afternoon of the dance I worked for hours on my "look".  Set hair in big rollers and sat under the dryer.  The dryers in the 60's were plastic boxes with flexible tubing attached.  The other end of the tube was hooked into a bubble cap that blew up like a balloon when the dryer was running.  My dryer had a fancy feature whereby you could put perfume into a certain spot and your hair would come out smelling amazing.  I used Jean Nate.

Then I put on my jean shorts and tee-shirt.  Standing in front of my mom's full length mirror I saw I had very big, very obvious thigh saddle-bags.  I reasoned that I could reduce the look of those fat wads by stuffing Kleenex into my pants just above the widest leg lump.  Not the best plan.  I didn't consider the fact the tissue balls would shift.  By the time I ran into Carl Jacobson my backside appeared to have tumors.

Goodness, I spent a lot of my youth sweating the very small stuff.   Being old has given me perspective.  Yay for being sixty five.

Day two of manifesting my future

My "Big Dream" has been to be a writer.  Published, read by many, loved by most, making lots of big fat dollars and having fun doing it.  My sister and brother-in-law have nipped at my heels to do this for years.

But those damn doubts always crept into my brain, "Why me, God?"  Now I'm saying, "Why NOT me!" During my meditations I have asked BF to use me, put me where I'm supposed to be. I've started this blog!  That's writing, isn't it?  I'm writing for the Universe who will eventually stumble across this.  Lots of them are sixty five too.

I figured my blog would be all the writing I would be doing for the foreseeable future.  Then, last night, my thirty three year old daughter, Maureen (aka Mo), called me.  She and I gabbed about this 'n that.  She told me she and her husband, Stephen, had watched the movie 20th Century Woman.  Something about a single mother rearing a child through the 50's and 60's.  Following the movie Mo and Stephen had a discussion about how they don't know their parents.  They know their mother.  They know their father.  However they don't know them as humanoids outside of their roles as mom and dad.

She then asked me to---Drum Roll Please---WRITE!  Yup, I asked the BF (Benevolent Force, my word for God) to use me.  I asked BF to put me where I'm meant to be.  And BF responded by giving me this blog, followed by giving me a request to write even more.

Possibly that little whisper inside my head, the one quietly repeating, "please please please write....",
KNEW what my path was to be.  I simply had to get outta' my own way.  Now I have.

Later today I'll write my first few pages for Maureen.

But first a shower and an Al-Anon meeting.  More on that in future posts.  If BF so directs.  :)

All of you out there, have a great day!  Dream big and believe.  The Universe will give you all you want if you have faith.

Toes hanging over the edge of a new reality!

Whooo Hoooo!  I'm sixty five!  I've been sixty five since November 28th, but only recently embraced it.

Sixty Five is a turning point age.  Like thirteen, without acne.  Or sixteen, but already have a driver's license.
Other turning point ages: Eighteen,  Twenty-one,  Forty....then they sort of go along by decades until you hit SIXTY FIVE!

Most people aren't thrilled about sixty five.  They think of it as the beginning of their last chapters on this planet.

But here is why I have embraced sixty five (other than Medicare):  I read a TERRIFIC book and I'm planning to use the tools in that book to manifest the most awesome rest of my life possible.

The book, you ask? (Yes, there are many "yous" out there.  Eventually you will all find this brand spanking new blog and possibly ride along with me now and again.)

The book is You Are A Badass by Jen Sincero.  It's a fun read and quite convinced me that I can manifest anything I want in my life by the amazing wattage of hooking into my higher power.  I think of my higher power as "BF"---aka Benevolent Force.  Sometimes I call BF God.  But mostly I call BF "best friend."

Check out Jen's best selling book at jensincero.com

This refreshing down to earth fun funny little book is my starting point for rocking the rest of my life.
She maintains we can manifest anything we want in our lives simply by the power of our thoughts!  Everything we desire is already HERE, we simply have to believe and BF mixed with our beliefs will pop that no longer elusive marvelous item right into our world.  How cool is that?

I tested this yesterday in the packed parking lot of our local Publix grocery store.  Not one single open space to be found.  So I said to myself, "Yes there is.  There is an open space quite near the entrance."  Lo and Behold,  just as I thunk it a car pulled out of the exact perfect spot and we pulled in.  Now that is quite the ideal litmus test, eh?

There's lots more.  Like the little line "....and this is good because."  More on that tomorrow.  Now I'm off to manifest clean laundry.   👏