Silent Night

I know it’s been a little quiet lately in the world of Mrs. Sedd@Sixty.  Wrapping up the year at work and wrapping up the presents for the tree have taken most of my time, attention and energy (that, and going to 1 or 2 movies during the last week…and I’m just getting started!).

My daughter and I are now both on vacation and my husband isn’t far behind.  Not much planned in the days ahead except family, friends, food and film, as far as I can tell, and that’s how I like it during this time of year. 

As I contemplate numerous tween sleep overs that will likely occur at my house during the next 2 weeks -- while my husband watches football, attacks his daily crossword puzzle, and I catch up on Netflix and Orange is the New Shade of Black -- please know that my little respite from this blog is just "percolation" time… thinking about what to share about life and the world as I know it in the year ahead.

I expect you will next hear from me when the New Year begins.  I will make a list of resolutions and maybe I will reveal them to you.  I will certainly do something stupid in the next 2 weeks at some point, and I'll likely want to memorialize it so I can learn from it and you can enjoy a knowing laugh.  (Never too old to do that.) But in the meantime, you have my heartfelt thanks for taking this blog journey with me these past 9 months; it's been thrilling to know you're out there and, from time to time, invite me into your consciousness. 

So for now, I send you best wishes for a blessed holiday with those you love as well as for a happy, healthy and productive new year ahead.  I'll see you on the other side of 2013.

Merry Christmas and here’s to 2014.

 

MrsSedd@Sixty: The Work Spouse

MrsSedd@Sixty: The Work Spouse: Most men and women I know have at least one special colleague at work who is a friend, usually of the opposite sex.   This person wears man...

The Work Spouse

Most men and women I know have at least one special colleague at work who is a friend, usually of the opposite sex.  This person wears many, many hats, often on a daily basis – serving as a listening post, a therapist, a father or mother confessor, a cheerleader and, even on occasion, a nag or pain in the @#$! 

Typically, these relationships are purely platonic. For that reason, they offer up another and extremely valuable kind of intimacy -- a closeness that allows for trust and complete confidence in the other person’s willingness to completely trust you back.

My husband calls this person “a work spouse.”  And I’ve been fortunate to have one for nearly 20 years at my firm.

Tomorrow, after a year of planning and waiting for the moment to arrive, my work spouse is retiring from our company.  While many others also lay claim to him as “their” work spouse, he was my first and only.  And I think I may have been his first, if not only, at our company.

We have very different takes on politics, money, office intrigue (sometimes) and other things too.  We’ve had arguments with each other (usually during presidential election seasons) but we’ve always, always recovered quickly from them because we enjoy each other’s company too much to let petty BS get in the way.

We’ve seen each other through bad relationships and two very good ones that have produced loving marriages for us both.  We’ve watched our colleagues get younger while we’ve grown older.  We’ve also come to realize that the truth will set you free, so we speak it if asked, even when some don’t want to hear it.

My work spouse and his real spouse, a deeply accomplished and pretty swell lady in her own right, are now planning the next exciting act of their lives.  I wish them well and will observe them closely so I can learn something useful for when I’m ready to take the same step on this journey we call life.  But I have to confess that I will seriously miss my morning check-in chats, midday discussions, and occasional quick drinks in the evening with my work spouse. 

In denial about his leaving, another colleague – she is one of his work spouses, too – is already scheming to put technology to work so we can “brown bag lunch” with our buddy via Skype.  I’m willing to try it, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that things will never, ever be the same around here without my pal roaming the hallways in search of a conversation.

Good luck to you, my dear work spouse.  Have fun, enjoy the sun, and work on those memoirs, the blog and that golf swing.  You’ve earned the right to kick it back a bit and enjoy living the life.  All of your work spouses and friends are happy for you and a tad envious, too – but, above all, we’re mostly sad to see you go.

MrsSedd@Sixty: Snow Daze

MrsSedd@Sixty: Snow Daze: Welcome to our first snow day of the season in Northern VA.   My day began with a 5:27AM call from my daughter’s school, cancelling cla...

MrsSedd@Sixty: Snow Daze

MrsSedd@Sixty: Snow Daze: Welcome to our first snow day of the season in Northern VA.   My day began with a 5:27AM call from my daughter’s school, cancelling cla...

MrsSedd@Sixty: Snow Daze

MrsSedd@Sixty: Snow Daze: Welcome to our first snow day of the season in Northern VA.   My day began with a 5:27AM call from my daughter’s school, cancelling cla...

Snow Daze

Welcome to our first snow day of the season in Northern VA.  My day began with a 5:27AM call from my daughter’s school, cancelling classes for the day.  By 8:49 AM, the neighborhood kids were out in the snow (including my child) as they slip-slided away down the driveway in search of enough snow for a decent snowball battle. 

The white stuff is falling more heavily now (11 AM) and the kids (4 girls on my couch playing Katy Perry songs while taking selfies with their iPads) have had their waffles, 2 cups of hot chocolate and put their lunch order in with the chef who would, ahem, be me.  Thank god for Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken and Uncle Ben’s microwave Jasmin rice. Yessss.

I’m  supposed to help host a retirement dinner for a dear friend tonight at a downtown restaurant but, I’ve gotta say, the roads in my hilly Arlington neighborhood are pretty iffy and would only get iffier with a few glasses of wine in me….so, we’ll see.  The  organizing committee will render a group verdict on rescheduling at noon today.

Once those plans are clarified, solidified or snowified, then it will be on to the afternoon agenda…and here’s where I’d like my buddy Duncan Hines to take a big bow:  Today, we have several "recipes" to choose from, including chocolate peanut  butter brownies and pumpkin spice cupcakes made with real pumpkin!!  A tasty way to kill an hour with housebored, snowbound kids. 

I suppose I could write that memo for work…or make that call to my client…but that’s what tomorrow is all about, and it’s only a day away.  Today, I’m Mistress of Snow Ceremonies in my little part of heaven in the Great State of Virginia.

Let it snow.

Baby It's Cold Outside

Winter has arrived in Arlington, VA.  Snow turned to ice rain in our little corner of heaven yesterday, leaving my car, the front steps, driveway, sidewalks and the streets coated in a thin sheet of ice, as lethal as it is glistening.   My daughter’s school started 2 hours late, my dog refused to have anything to do with the outdoors, and my husband and I both took the easier option of a “work from home” day.

There’s not enough of anything left on the ground for the neighborhood kids to sled on, or for one of those leisurely strolls in freshly falling snow when everything is so eerily and beautifully…still.  But tomorrow, the forecast is for snow:  1 to 4, or 5 inches or more, depending on which news organization and meteorologist you listen to.  Outside, you can feel it in the air, waiting to fall, with the temperature a damp and chilly high 30s.

Although this is the perfect time of year for winter weather to interrupt our daily schedules (please!), I know too that by mid-January, I’ll be hallucinating about our spring break vacation to a warm Caribbean island, only to be unwillingly snapped out of my daze with a blast of mid-winter frigidity. Neither the warmth of a fireplace nor the deception of a sunny day will compensate for my immediate, urgent need for sun-saturated endorphins.

But until then, I’ll focus on snow and Santa while listening to Kelly Clarkson’s new Christmas album (wonderful!!) as winter works its will on the Washington, D.C. metro area.  And I’ll be sure to bundle up because there is nothing worse than a Christmas cold.

Stay warm, too.  You’ve been warned.

 

All That I Want

 

Today, I not-so-humbly offer my utterly semi-serious Christmas wish list:

·         Happy daughter

·         Happy husband

·         Happy siblings, friends and colleagues (most of them, anyway)

·         Bigger 401(k)

·         Bigger house

·         Svelte me

·         Shorter hair…or…really long hair

·         Long exotic vacation

·         Long and healthy life

·         World peace

And I/we are worth it.

Santa???

 

 

Fashionista Christmas

I miss my daughter’s “little girl” Christmases of old – the days of $10 Barbies from Target, plastic tea sets, story books,  coloring kits and a Snow White or Cinderella costume to make it really special. A few of those items were more than enough to satisfy a 6 year-old that Santa had been very generous in recognition of her good behavior during the year.

But bye, bye miss American Pie – hello, fashionista!  My 13 year-old has discovered clothes and brands.  She wants shirts from Justice and Forever 21 sweaters and American Eagle jeggings and Abercrombie and Fitch perfume.

She also wants a new American Girl doll (which personally I find kind of sweet) because she loves to play with the long thick hair. And sometimes cut it.

This Christmas is shaping up to be a transitional year, with a bit of the girl mixed in with the emerging persona of the young teen:  in other words, I can’t tentatively say that “maybe Santa will bring that [fill in the blank]” or she’ll tell me to knock it off and roll her eyes at me.   Some of the wearable gift items that I’m getting for her actually are needed, too, even if she doesn’t want them , e.g., the LL Bean snow boots to replace the pair that don’t fit anymore, and the winter down vest because I can’t get her to wear a coat on even the coldest days (What is it with these kids today, they never get cold???).

Even though I know she wants another blond American girl doll -- if Santa does bring her one -- I think she’ll be a redhead just to keep it interesting.

I always start out with the best of intentions to not overspend or overly commercialize our family’s holiday experience.  And I always try to make sure that our daughter understands how lucky we are and how important it is to give to those less fortunate.

During this Christmas of transformation from tween to teen, I hope I’ll succeed in delighting my beautiful daughter while also communicating that happiness doesn’t only come in a pretty box with a gold ribbon around it.  

Wish me luck.   Now I’m off to American Eagle for those jeggings….

 

The Magic Bed

We’ve gone and done it – and we haven’t even hit 62 yet!

That’s right folks.  My husband and I have invested in a Serta-Temperpedic-like gel foam mattress on an “adjustable frame.”

A hospital bed, really, only with a “massage” function.

I used to think our old bed was pretty swell, but boy was I wrong.  And I used to think that lying down flat on a bed, with only a pillow (or 3) around your head was comfy.  Wrong again.

With our new bed, it’s possible to elevate your legs, which might be useful if either of us ever gets diabetes or has a heart issue. And as soon as the clock strikes 9pm, I’m raring to get upstairs… to watch TV, or read a book, or even…sleep.  With my handy dandy wireless controller by my side, I can elevate into a sitting position, have my feet elevated, get the vibration of a massage and watch MSNBC Talking Heads, all at the same time.

Advanced Sleep Technology.  I love it.

Then there’s the mattress itself: it just conforms to your body.  I’m a bounce-arounder, and none of that is necessary, I swear to god!  My husband is like a new man, as a result:  He’s actually sleeping through the night despite me.  Plus the mattress stays a nice, comfortable temp too.

My only problem…the only thing I’m truly afraid of…is that we’ll become like the grandparents in Willy Wonka:  One day, we’ll just decide to stay in bed.  Forever.

I’m only kidding.  Really.  Kinda. 

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

MrsSedd@Sixty: Wonderland

MrsSedd@Sixty: Wonderland: In so many ways, it’s hard to believe 2013 is nearly behind us…and in so many ways, I wonder: What took it so long? In so many wa...

Wonderland

In so many ways, it’s hard to believe 2013 is nearly behind us…and in so many ways, I wonder:

What took it so long?

In so many ways, my brain is starting to slowly turn into holiday mush…and in so many other ways, I’m waiting for some new adventure to begin:

Today?

When I feel this way (a little anxious, a little old, a little bored, a little dull), I try to summon my inner 13 year old…21 year old…35 year old…50 year old…and get excited about the next next thing:

Christmas and New Year’s holidays.

In the uncanny way that he has, I guess my mind-reading husband knew that I needed a little Christmas and created this Christmas canopy over the stairs leading to our front door.  It made me giggly and grateful for him, for my beautiful daughter, for the life I am so blessed to live every day.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. 

Onward!!!

 

 

 

 

Post-Birthday Fatigue Disorder

I have been suffering from PBFD since last Saturday. 

My daughter’s launch into the teenage years was a huge success, including the “whipped cream pie in the face" event.  But after managing through an 18 hour birthday sleepover shift (with approximately 6.5 hours of restless sleep included in that time frame), I spent virtually all Sunday afternoon recovering from the festivities by sleeping and reading the New York Times in one of our living room easy chairs, getting up only to quench my thirst with a cold glass of water or Diet Coke. 

You’d think approximately 4 hours of being stationary and/or (for one of those hours) asleep would have accelerated my recovery  -- but no.  I really am getting old.

So this weekend, I am taking it relatively easy (other than to do battle at the nearest Whole Foods for possession of a 16 pound, fresh and "Free Range" turkey) in order to be rested and ready for Thanksgiving at my parents’ home next week.  I’m cooking for 8 and, actually, I love making Thanksgiving dinner while watching the Macy’s Parade in the morning…. 

I will likely be AWOL from this blog until after the holiday, so I wish you the joy and comfort of friendship, family and food – the truly wonderful ingredients for a happy Thanksgiving.

Gobble, gobble.  Count your blessings.  Amen.

The Birthday Bash

My tween is 13.

 

This weekend 12 of her friends will decamp to Casa Sedd for a ‘60s themed  sleepover celebration, whatever that means.  My husband and I will have custodial responsibility and party management chores from 4pm until 10am the following morning.

18 hours.  That’s right, we are nuts.

Assuming that these girls -- or some combination thereof -- sleep for 6-8 hours, that still leaves me with roughly 10 hours to fill.  So here’s my plan (with some limited input from my daughter).

4-4.30pm:    Meet, greet, and enjoy hors d’oeuvres in the living room (Please note:  this is my daughter’s idea and I’m a little worried about my sofas…so jury’s out on this one)

4:30-5:00ish:   Whipped cream pie in the face fight on the backyard patio (her idea).  My daughter seems to think that shower caps will serve as sufficient coverage to prevent an evening of icky hair for participants.  Jury’s out on this one, too.

5:00-6ish:  Get party started in the family room and make sure it stays there.  Charades, anyone? Karoake?  Dancing to the Beatles, Cream and Led Zeppelin, perhaps? (Remember:  The theme is the ‘60s.  And I haven’t a clue why that appeals to my daughter, other than to encourage her parents to sing along with Robert Plant or Eric Clapton.  Not.)

 6:15:  Pizza, pizza, pizza.

7:00:  The ritual opening of presents.  Always a decent time-killer.

7:30:  Cupcakes, candles and hot fudge sundaes served up buffet style.

7:45   Any decent movie that isn’t “R” rated from “On Demand.”  Only criteria is that is is at least 100 minutes long and not too violent.

9:30ish   Order (nicely) partygoers to get dressed for bed.  Pop some corn. Help party guests locate a few square feet of floor for their even fewer moments of sleep.

9:45  Movie #2.  Same criteria as above, although a 90 minute running time is preferred given the lateness of the hour.

Midnight.  Lights out, parents head upstairs, ghost storytellers and gossip girls compete for attention…and I’m in my own bed, door closed, can’t hear a thing, I hope!

This is a busy week, and I have the royal bash to prepare for, so expect my next report fron the domestic front sometime next week.

Until then, Peace (sign). Sigh.

Doing the Math

I’ve never been particularly good at math.  Even though I passed my end of year Algebra exam with a 99 and my Geometry exam with a 96 in high school, I barely passed Intermediate Algebra and Trig and stayed as far away from Calculus as I could get.  Today, if presented with a basic algebraic equation, I’d struggle – trust me.

So I’m observing with understanding, sympathy and some concern as my daughter experiences her own challenges learning 7^th grade, pre-algebra math.  She can execute the computations and get the right answer, but she can’t always tell you “why” or how she completed the problem.  If you ask her to break the solution to the problem into serial operations, she’s entirely lost.  (God knows, I’m no help to her!)

I hope my daughter is better able to navigate and survive the landscape of academic math than her mother did.  (For the record, my high school Intermediate Algebra and Trig class was my last formal educational experience in math).  And, yes, I do worry, as any parent does, about my child’s ability to do well enough in school so that she’ll go on to college and be prepared for a job that interests her while providing for a comfortable life.  But I also know this:  if she’s good at balancing a checkbook and figuring out the fundamentals of money management, she’ll probably do just fine.  Despite my computational shortcomings, I’ve proven through the years to be reasonably adept at personal money management – making it seem like I had more than I really had because of my startling ability to “triage” bill payments.  A gift, I tell you!

From the way my daughter has skillfully managed as she’s gotten older to save her own money while spending mine, I’m confident she’s well on her way to figuring all this stuff out.

 

Celebrate Good Times

Halloween is now behind us (thank goodness – not my favorite faux holiday), the clocks have been turned back to ensure sunrise by 7am and sunset by 5, and the sprint to Thanksgiving, Black Friday and the holiday season is now underway.

There’s a morning chill in the air when we walk the dog and the colorful trees are starting to fade.  But I don’t mind it at all, because fall is my favorite time of the year.

I feel more energetic this time of the year.  It puts more of a bounce in my step.   I love the annual turkey fest and the stuffing I only have the strength to make on Thanksgiving.  Because my parents are elderly and very infirm, the Thanksgiving feast comes to them as my daughter, my sister and my husband patiently join me in mom’s kitchen to chop, stir, baste and enjoy the good humor of a holiday focused on gratitude for family, friends and food.  Amen.

December is my big vacation month each year, when I use up virtually all of my remaining paid time off from work to give myself a long break – long enough to enable me to restart my increasingly creaky work persona again in January.   And then there’s Christmas, when the food is non-stop and banned indulgences like fondue and fudge are enjoyed.  Last year we celebrated over a meal with our neighbors…a huge brined turkey and oodles of treats healthy and not…great fun which I hope we’ll be able to repeat this year. 

Finally, New Year’s champagne is uncorked with our closest friends, with whom we cook a New Year’s Eve feast followed by chit-chat, dessert and a countdown to midnight.  By 12:05am they are out the door and on their way home, and we’re half way up the stairs to bed.  Perfect friends, perfect evening, perfectly wonderful.

Although they almost always are just a wee bit disappointing as they unfold, the child in me still adores the excitement and anticipation of the end of the year holidays and all the planning required to make them as festive as possible.  On New Year’s Day, when I think back on the previous weeks’ activities and look ahead to days about to unfold, I happily pretend that everything was and will be magical, even though the adult me knows it won’t be….exactly that. 

I expect I’ll be posting breathlessly about birthdays and Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations in the coming weeks.  So bear with me -- I’m a Sagittarius and this is my time of the year!

 

The Parenthood

I’m a late bloomer, it seems, at everything in my life – and most especially, parenting.
That said, I love, love, love being a parent, even the “bad parts” that involving disagreement with my husband over something to do with our daughter…as well as the squabbles, many of them half in jest, that occur between my daughter and me on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis.

This weekend, my little parenthood included the following:

My daughter’s first “dance,” held at a local Presbyterian Church, for 6^th, 7^th and 8^th graders.  She wore denim shorts and her “layered tank top” look, and cute little booties.  She also wore some make-up -- hey, she’s going to be 13 soon.  Three boys asked her to dance, but she said “no thanks.” (She’s surprisingly shy about that boy-girl stuff right now, thank god, unlike some of her other friends!).  When I asked her if she’ll want to go to another dance at the church (they’re held monthly), she smiled a “yes,” and added, “I loved it, Mom.”

Is my little girl lost forever???

Shopping at Target.  It’s very hard to get my daughter to go shopping with me for anything, so when she suggests she wants to go the store, I jump on it.  But this weekend, she wanted a junket to Target in search of a “top” – T-shirt, plaid shirt, sparkly sweatshirt, or slinky/fancy “Flashdance shirt”….my daughter has a “top addiction.”  We agreed that she could not go over her allowance budget for a shirt.

I rarely escape a trip through Target for under $150.  I don’t know why…sometimes it’s the mini-grocery shop that sends me over the financial edge, sometimes it’s something completely ridiculous and spur of the moment, like plastic plates for summer dining out of doors (place setting for 6, please!).

This visit with my daughter was no exception:  2 tops, 4 camis, 1 comforter and sheet set with accent pillow for my daughter’s bedroom, as well as 2 boxes of Capri Sun and some soup for school-lunch microwaving,  later and our shopping excursion was over.  Total cost:  $213 and change.  Time spent with my daughter:  Priceless.

Girls lunch out.  After a little shopping, always time for a light lunch, eh?  My skinny-minny daughter is a growing girl:  1 medium sized Margarita Pizza and gluten free pasta with marinara sauce was consumed in a scant 30 minutes by my hungry soon-to-be teen (ok, I had 2 pieces of the pizza)…fueling at least 1/16^th of 1 inch in growth overnight.

The birthday party in the Cloud.   On Sunday afternoon, I finally sent birthday sleepover/60’s themed Evites out in the cloud to 12 girls for help in celebrating my lovely girl’s entrée to teendom.  13 tweens in a 1 tween home for an overnight filled with food, loud music/karaoke, and bad Teen Nick/Netflix movies. 

Did I mention how much I love parenting????

Happy Monday.

 

Monday



 

An older Jewish man is walking on the sidewalk in New York.  A car careens around a corner and hits him.  He goes flying and lands in the street injured.  One on-looker rushes over and covers the hurt man with his jacket. Another balls up his coat and puts it under the man’s neck.  A third leans over and asks “Are you comfortable?”

The man looks up and says, “Well, I make a nice living.”

The First Couple of Arlington, Sort of

Yes, one and all, it is Monday and a good joke (courtesy of my colleague Barry) is always a pleasant way to start the week...while offering a useful reminder that, even though I might prefer to be doing something other than sitting at a desk today, I make a "nice living."

I’ve got nothing special on my mind at this moment other than the beautiful fall weather we’re enjoying in Washington – which we sampled in a special way on Sunday by attending the Fall Garden Tour at the White House.

The tour takes place on the South Lawn…where we wandered past the East Wing and Jacqueline Kennedy’s Garden filled with beautiful fall flowers and a graceful trellis area with outdoor seating, to the South Portico and the West Wing with its famous Rose Garden and Oval Office, then further down the vast green expanse of lawn to see the White House bee hive and Michelle Obama’s Kitchen Garden -- which was a “wow,” lush with seasonal fruits and vegetables, herbs and other greenery.

Mrs. Sedd and her wonderful husband enjoyed their tour (as did our daughter and her friend) as well as the brisk walk to and from our car to get to the White House, which reminded us, once again, of how impressive and lovely our presidents’ home truly is.

Enjoy your day.

 

 

 

Bipolar Blues

If you review my posts this week, you will notice my bipolar reaction to the end of the government shutdown, the continuing onslaught about Obamacare and the rapidly approaching end of daylight saving time, among other things.

To wit:

·         As happy as I am that my husband is back at work, I have to say it was nice having him do the little odd-jobs around the home that, in some cases, he’s put off for years.

·       The Obamacare website will work and anti-Affordable Care Act advocates will be faced with the stark reality that people can now really get healthcare coverage for a fraction of what it would otherwise cost them. And they will like it.   I’ll illustrate my point with a 21-year-old example:  I was nearly 40 and had left a full-time job to work part time so I could try my hand at writing a novel. (It remains unpublished for those who are wondering…and for a very good reason, for those who are not.)  I had a healthcare COBRA for 18 months with Kaiser Permanente.  It cost over $500/month, which required me to eat a lot of tuna fish and hot dogs for a while.  Healthcare coverage through Obamacare today would cost not much more than half that now…and this is 20 years later.  Ok, I understand that the website is a monumental #@!$-up, but what part of coverage for millions of Americans and saving money don’t people get??? And why is it so terrifyingly anti-American for some folks????  Sorry, all this political chest-thumping doesn’t make much sense to me.

·         I loathe driving home in the dark at the end of the work day.  And it’s horrible waking up to the dark, too, in the morning.  Makes me feel like a lab rat on a wheel.  It’s almost time for to our clocks to be turned back amidst the joys of Seasonal Affective Disorder syndrome.  Looks like I’m going to have to conduct Netflix binging on romcoms for the next 5 months or so. 

But, on the lighter side of life:

1.     Halloween is almost here and I love seeing little kids in their costumes…and my bigger kid too.

2.     Thanksgiving is fast approaching…my favorite holiday of the year because it’s not about giving or getting stuff, it’s about getting stuffed! 

3.       Christmas is my favorite time of year and I begin the holiday the week before by going to as many new movies as I can and shopping at the last minute.  This year, I’m contemplating hosting a small holiday party just because I need a little Christmas.  Right this very minute.  Like now.

4.       I will be 61 soon, which is great.  I’m still standing, which is greater.  And I’ve decided to stay “60” forever, which is my choice.  E.g., MrsSedd@Sixty.

That’s enough out of me for one week.  Enjoy your weekend.

 

A Little Levity

Jokes are one of God’s slightly snarky but mostly delightful gifts to humankind.  My friends B.Jay and Barry must have known that I needed a lighter touch earlier this week so one of them sent a link to a website with great Jewish jokes, and the other (who is a wonderful storyteller) sent his own joke in response.

Sadly, I can’t find the link (stupidly deleted it, #$@!), but I do have Barry’s joke:

Sol is 75.  Sadie is 70.  For many years they were married to others but sadly, both their spouses died.  They met, they fell in love, they got married and it is their wedding night.

Sadie is upstairs in their bedroom and calls down to Sol, “Sol, it is our wedding night.  Come upstairs and make love to me."

Sol says, “Sadie, I am 75 years old. I can do one or the other, but I can’t do both.”

Thanks, Barry!

And you’re welcome.

Dreaming a Little Dream of Me

I’m in escapist mode today:  Too little to do at the office today and too much time to spend on a nice daydream.

So here goes….

I’m having a dinner party at my fantasy flat in a chic London neighborhood with all my posh work friends, and some not so posh.  It is a late October afternoon of grey skies and chill-to-the-bone rain outdoors.  Inside, my husband is nursing a Guinness in a vast sitting room, regaling an intelligent friend (who he is, I know not) with some obscure story about Abraham Lincoln as a young lawyer, while my daughter sits in a window seat, typing away on her mobile phone.  I am happily in the kitchen, getting ready to serve a huge pot of Cincinnati chili and corn bread to the assembled throng.

But no, I’m not really in the mood for a chilly and damp fall evening in London with imaginary friends, so my mind wanders to….

A rustic, fantasy beach home on Fire Island, where my oldest friends in the world and I are sitting on a deck, staring out at the ocean, while sipping some pomegranate and vodka drink or another that tastes cool and refreshing, chatting away like magpies, jumping on each other’s words to make a point.  In this lovely reverie, we are all fit and tanned and younger with lovely hair that hasn’t started graying or thinning out yet….

But then, my thought pattern rewinds back to a special memory from the past….

My husband and I are in the outdoor, heated, salt-water pool at the Banff Springs Hotel in Canada, surrounded by the majestic Rockies.  It is a cloud-free late August day and, despite the sun, there’s an early indication of fall in the air.  Our 3 year-old daughter stands on sturdy little legs at the edge of the pool, cautiously optimistic that if she jumps in, her father will catch her.  Her eyes light up, she leaps, he does, she squeals with delight, we intertwine ourselves in each other’s arms, one happy family unit.  Smile. Misty eyes.  At top of short list of best holidays ever.

Phone rings. Crap. Work.

Back to the here and now. Happy Tuesday.

 

Gravity

Sometimes I feel lead-footed and unable to rise above the petty annoyances of the day.  When that happens it’s usually because I feel pulled back to earth by the realities of work, government shutdowns, money (or lack of it), parenting kids, worrying about elderly parents, and managing snakes in and outside of the house.  (Although I am happy to report we haven’t had any internal snake sightings in the past 2 weeks.)

When that happens, I try to find things that help me “float above” my silly travails -- which is why, this week, I’m deeply involved in the world of Bridget Jones.  For those of you who may not remember Ms. Jones, she is that plucky and sometimes plump British woman -- so beautifully played  on film by Renee Zellwegger -- of the world whose life and loves has made me and many others laugh 'til our stomachs hurt.

In a recently published, new installment of Ms. Jones’ diary, Bridget is now 51, mother to 2 children under the age of 8, and a widow to boot.  Battling the bulge while fighting grief and depression with a tendency to indulge in both food and alcohol “units,”, Bridget is an everywoman at a particularly delicate stage of life:  No longer young but with young children, no longer “hip” though  wickedly funny and no longer “sexy” but definitely “sensual.”

I have to tell you, I laughed out loud at least a dozen times last night while reading Bridget Jones:  Mad about the Boy.

 And that leads me to today’s “lesson.”  When gravity is pulling you down, go for something that can lighten your mood.  Right now, for me, that’s the life of one Bridget Jones as immortalized by author Helen Fielding.  She’s delightful.  And as a woman of a certain age, I can certainly relate.

I can’t wait for the movie.

 

Staycation: The Report Card

As you know if you read this blog, my husband is a lawyer whose non-essential status has entitled him to a nearly 3 week break from the daily grind of our U.S. government bureaucracy (a job he loves, by the way, and is very good at).

Because I know him well after nearly 15 years of marriage, I prepared a short list of “suggestions” for making the most of his time out of the office in an effort to alleviate any feelings of boredom.  To review, I proposed that he…

1.       Powerwash our house

2.       Clear out the gutters

3.       Clean out the shed*    

4.       Declutter the guest room

5.       Declutter the other guest room, AKA David’s study*

6.       Paint the guest room 

7.       Paint the study

8.       Deforest our backyard

9.       Expand his kitchen repertoire from jar spaghetti sauce to jar meat sauce

10.   Take a nap* 

My wonderful husband had his own list:

1.       Fix the hot tub  (which has not worked for 5 years)*

2.       Ride his bicycle

3.       Take naps*

4.       Clear out the shed*

5.       Take old clothing and other household items to Goodwill*

6.       Visit with his family as part of 39^th birthday/40^th HS reunion celebrations in Indiana*

7.       Watch cable news programs*

8.       Stay up late for Daily Show and Letterman*

9.       Have lunch with office friends*

10.   Take more naps*

Life conspired to add to both our lists:

1.       Kill snakes in house*

2.       Hire snakebusters and plug up the house so that other snakes would not invade our happy home*

3.       Forage for food at a variety of Fast Food establishments for family dinners due to late running office meetings for working wife*

 I must say, my husband made a serious effort to accomplish all the tasks on his list while managing ably the surprises that life chucked in his/our direction.  That said, I’m just a little disappointed he didn’t get to more items on my list, especially items 6 and 7, but, oh well.  We’ll get to them when we go through this again in January, right??

_______________________________________________________________________________

STAYCATION REPORT CARD

Grade for Staycation Tasks:  B+

Extra credit for snake killing:  1 full grade

Overall grade:  A+

Please note:  Accomplished tasks are noted with an asterisk (*) and the vast majority came from his list, not mine. 

The Shut Up Already Awards

Although it’s not really totally over yet, it appears at this writing that our government will go back to work soon. (And that means my husband too, thank god!).  The full faith and credit of the United States, and the relative security of your money and mine, such as it is, will be vouched safe – at least until Feb. 7, when we have the opportunity to watch this movie again.

In honor of the outstanding patriotism on display these last weeks, I’d like to recognize the really impressive performances of the ShutUp/Stand-Out  few – representatives, truly, of democracy run amok --  who have brought a great nation to the brink.

·       The Best Actor Award goes to…the one, the only, Senator Ted Cruz.  No one else – not even John Boehner – has displayed such an elevated self-importance and arrogance; it is simply unmatched even in this crew of Tea Party Tots Throwing Tantrums.

·       The Best Actress Award goes to…Rep. Marsha “I’ve Never Met a TV Camera I Didn’t Love” Blackburn, Tea Party Queen of Tennessee.  That lady can talk and spin and talk and spin and say so much and say so little while chewing gum at the same time – and all that with faux Southern Belle charm and perfectly coiffed hair.   I can’t believe she can afford a beauty parlor blowout every day on what a member of Congress makes but then, yeah, that’s right, most all of them are multi-millionaires and that’s why, in part, they don’t give a crap about the rest of us.  You’re the best, Marsha – don’t ever change.

·      The Best Supporting Actor Award goes to …. Mitch McConnell.  He’s a nasty ol’ summabitch, but he’s a patriotic summabitch.  Really.  Thanks for your “White Knight” performance – history will be kinder to you as a result.  Plus, you get one of my awards.  Good on ya, brother. 

·       The Best Supporting Actress Award goes to…Sarah Palin, because you can’t have a constitutional crisis based on “Know-Nothing” ideology without St. Sarah trying to grab Center Stage.  Man, she’s good – she can upstage Ted Cruz and hijack the World War II Memorial protest of 95-year-old war veterans – that’s surely award worthy, don’tcha know?

·       The Best Ensemble Award goes to….of course, the House Republican Caucus, led by “The Speaker”….the man….the one and only John Boehner.  As for you, Mr. Speaker, history will not be so kind, so enjoy this award because it’s probably the only good thing that’s going to happen for you this week...except for maybe a nice Merlot headache.

Let me add my personal thanks to all the award winners, as well as their Tea Party colleagues who in the name of “fairness” and “fiscal frugality” set fire to about $20B as payment for their tantrum of these past weeks. Their love of country, concern for “average Americans” and "jobs", and, oh yeah, our nation’s financial security is really, really, really touching. 

I hope the rest of us will return the favor at the ballot box.