Sadie, Sadie, Married Lady

Thought for the day: In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. [Albert Schweitzer]

Hi-ya. How the heck are ya? Me? I am fan-freaking-tastic!

It's no secret that my inner fire took a bit of a hit when Mike died. Y'all know exactly what I'm talking about, because you've probably experienced similar low spots in your lives. Bottom line, I thought my life was over, too.

I was wrong.

Man, was I ever wrong. 

Enter Larry... that person who rekindled my inner spirit. 

I'm a lot of things, but I'm no fool. On 2/22/22... at 2:22... I married this fantabulous man under a big ol' oak tree in our back yard.

It is no exaggeration to say our joy is even bigger than that tree.

Some of you have asked how we met. Well, we actually met more than 20 years ago, when he, Mike and I all belonged to the same amateur radio club. We all got along famously and shared lots of laughs and conversations together back then, but the real story begins when he sent me a private message via Facebook last May 3. He'd been widowed for nine years and had recently moved back into the area and wanted to see if I'd like to chat on the radio sometime. 

After exchanging a few messages, I agreed to talk on the phone the next day. Oh, we did. We talked... and laughed... for more than two hours. Then we went out to lunch on the 5th... the first time we'd seen each other face-to-face since 2003 or so. From the time I opened the front door and we stood there grinning mirror image grins at each other through the screen door, I was a goner. 

Can you say... instant connection?

 It is inexplicable how much alike we are. I swear, he's a male ME. (Or since he's older, maybe I'm a female HIM.) No matter. We can... and DO... talk about anything and everything. We can... and DO... share the same kind of sense of humor that keeps us on our toes and laughing. Somehow, this wizard of a man sees what's in my heart and knows what I want without me breathing a word about it... sometimes, before I even realize I want it. Then he moves heaven and earth to make whatever I want a reality. It's unbelievable! We spoil each other rotten, have boatloads of fun every day... and every day, we thank our lucky stars that we found each other. That we rescued each other and fanned each other's inner flames and turned them into a conflagration, (A slight exaggeration... our indigestion isn't all that bad...)

Yes. I am lucky. Very very lucky. And I know it.

So is he. (Hey! What am I... chopped liver? HA)

So anyhow, our wedding was low-key, stress-free., and joyous. In other words... perfect. My wonderful son-in-law even wore his kilt for me! WooHOO. And the weather? Perfect. The day was perfect in every way.

As you can see, I wore purple. One of my friends asked me if I was gonna wear white, and I told her no. As Mae West said, I used to be Snow White, but I drifted. So purple seemed more fitting. My mother's favorite poem was When I am Old, I Will Wear Purple. I'm old. We both like purple. So there ya go! 

Too bad you couldn't be there. Gee, if only there were a way to make it feel like you'd been there to share it with us, ya know? What could that be... what could that be? Hmmm, how about an unedited video? Think that'd do the trick? Enjoy. Or not. No skin off my nose either way. HA

The healthiest response to life is joy. [Deepak Chopra]

Man, am I HEALTHY!!! [me]

I believe laughter is a language of God and that we can all live happily ever laughter. [Yakov Smirnoff]

So far, so good! [me] Life is good.

                               Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

 

A New Year and a New Life

 Thought for the day: It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and learning into childhood, all the work into middle age, and all the regrets into old age. [Margaret Mead]

Hi, guys. Remember me? I sure remember you.

Mea culpa.

I know. I've been the world's absolute worst at keeping in touch, but in my defense, Margaret Mead was absolutely right...

I may be o-l-d, but there is zero room in my life for regret, because I'm too darned busy squeezing every drop of joy from each day, and that means lots and lots of playing and learning.

And it's been A-W-E-S-O-M-E! I'm pretty sure I even smile in my sleep.

But alas ...writing is one of those things that, at least for now, has fallen by the wayside.And that includes blogging. But I haven't forgotten you guys, and I hope you haven't forgotten me yet.

image courtesy of Bored Panda

So here I am... just peeking in to ask you

HOW THE HECK ARE YOU DOING??? 

It seems like there's been one after another after another Covid outbreak... maybe in your country, your state, your city... and it makes me think about you guys and worry about your welfare. Australia, in particular, has been sweltering under unbearably high temperatures, and I can't help but wonder how the lovelies Sue and Elsie are doing. So I'm here to check on you. And to fill you in on what's happening with me.

image courtesy of Bored Panda

Me?

I'm cooooool.

Ridiculously laid-back.

Unbelievably happy.

See? Don't I look happy? (And hey! Short hair now!)

That's 'cause I AM happy.

Last summer, Larry took me to visit some of the important people in my life. This is my niece/goddaughter, who lives in Maryland. We also spent a few days with my cousin at her beach house in Delaware. Wow, if THAT wasn't something! She and I went swimming at the very same place we used to swim as kids. (I must confess: I ACTED like a kid, too. Got swamped in the waves so many times, the lifeguards kept me under special surveillance, I'm sure.) It was SOOOOO much fun! 

Check out these pics of my cousin and me:

 

This was taken in about 1953 or so.

 

the summer of '65

last summer

 

This is the same cousin who was gonna travel to Italy with me. Alas, Covid said otherwise. Not sure if or when we'll get to take that trip, but it was beyond awesome to spend time together at the beach again. We may be old, but we haven't changed in the ways that matter. It was as though no time had passed...

We've already been to AL several times to visit my older son and his family and to FL to visit Larry's daughter and my younger son and his crew.  We've also visited with my brother and his sister. Wherever I wanta go, whatever I wanta do... somehow, Larry makes it happen. Even the things I don't say out loud. It's as though he sees inside my heart. As my cousin told me, "Everybody needs a Larry." And I thank my lucky stars I've got mine.

When we're home, we spend a few hours every day enjoying this...

Yes, the felt IS blue!

We even learned how to play a (smaller-sized) version of snooker, which is a lot of fun, albeit a tad annoying at the beginning of each rack, when you have to play with finesse and strategy. (I just wanta make balls! HA)  Right now, we're hooked on shooting straight pool. 

We've also been playing every kind of game imaginable. Even have a tabletop ice hockey game, which is a whole lot more fun that I expected. 

We've been learning a lot of stuff, too. But you don't wanta hear all that. Besides, there's something ELSE I want to tell you. 

Something reeeeeeally cool. And unbelievable.

Ohmigod, I'm getting married!!!

Really! This sassy old broad, who thought my world ended when my husband died, is so happy, it's a wonder my heart doesn't explode and send a shower of sheer sparkling joy all over the world. The youthful bloom of first love is fabulous, but I abso-doggone-lutely guarantee that love at my age is even better. I promise you.

Get this... we're gonna take the plunge on 2/22/22... at 2:22, of course. How cool is THAT? Oh yeah... that date happens to fall on a TWOS-day. HA! Dontcha love it? As my daughter Sunshine said, "That's TWO-bular!" Hmmm, the jury's out as to whether or  not I should wear a tutu... 

image courtesy of Bored Panda

No promises, but I'm gonna try not to be such a stinker about keeping in touch. To those of you who've contacted me in one way or another over the past six months, I thank you. Even though I was a major butthead about responding, your efforts were truly appreciated. 

I've said it before, but I'll say it again: 

You guys rock!

 

 

 

 

                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

   

                                                                

image courtesy of Bored Panda

That last picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post whatsoever. I just thought it was funny. Gives a whole new meaning to "bubble butt."

Gratitude and Joy

Thought for the day:  I don't have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness--- it's right in front of me if I'm paying attention and practicing gratitude. [Brene Brown]

 Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here in the U.S. For a number of years, this drawing, along with my silly Thanksgiving poem, provided an easy-peasy starting point for a blog post to celebrate this time of the year. A good way to ease into the Holiday season with a smile.

But this year feels different.

Because it is.

This year is different in many ways, not just for me, but for all of you, as well. How do we give thanks when the entire world is being swamped by the third... and largest... wave of this relentless pandemic? When our healthcare workers are being overwhelmed by the sheer number of patients, by their own exhaustion, and by what must be utter frustration at the number of people who still refuse to wear a damned mask?  

How do we rejoice when we're still isolated, for the most part, from our families and friends? How do I rejoice without my husband? How do you rejoice without that special person you may have lost this year? How do we keep smiling through our tears?

                                           One day at a time... one blessing at a time. 

image courtesy of Unsplash

It's been four months since my husband died, and I must admit, it's still sinking in that he's truly gone... and each time that soul-sucking reality punches me in the gut, it knocks the wind out of me all over again. Yes, it brings tears to my eyes, but not for long. What good will tears do?

Far better to concentrate on the many blessings that still remain. We can spend all of our time lamenting what is gone... what has changed... or we can choose to accept our circumstances and be grateful for the many good things remaining. Goodness and joy are still all around us... we just have to look away from our sadness and anxiety and pay better attention. 

I betcha turkeys are finding it easier to be grateful this year, eh? Especially the really big ones. Not much demand for 20-something pound turkeys when our gatherings will be so much smaller. My daughter, her husband and a family friend will be sharing Thanksgiving dinner with me... but no turkey. Not even a little one. It almost feels like blasphemy to have something other than turkey, but Mike was the big turkey-and-all-the-fixings fan in our family, and it seems almost disrespectful to go through all the hoopla without him. So we won't. New beginnings. New traditions. We'll eat lighter fare, and we'll enjoy each other's company. And we'll shoot pool. Maybe play some board games. The one thing I'll try not to do is cry. Laughter is so much better for the soul. 

For all of you, I wish much joy and laughter, too. Whether you're celebrating Thanksgiving or just enjoying a regular run-of-the-mill Thursday, I wish you a grateful heart and many blessings. In spite of everything, life is still good. Different, yes. But still good. I am soooooo grateful for my kids... my friends... you. Hang in there, people. We've got this.

y

                                         Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Gratitude

Thought for the day:  Gratitude is an attitude. [Dr. Laura]

Smarticus and I mostly stay happy, but I don't think it has anything to do with retirement... although being retired does merit a bunch of fist bumps and heartfelt yippees. (I honestly don't understand those people who hate retirement... we think it's GRRRRREAT!)

I think maybe being grateful has a lot to do with being happy, ya know? You know how some people wake up in the morning like they need a jump-start... with a industrial strength pot of coffee, or maybe a souped-up car battery? You could say their brains are just kinda warming up and operating with the wattage of a sweet little night light first thing in the morning. Me? When I wake up, it's more like every light in the house has been turned on at once... on high ... and a band is playing a jig in the background. Okay, not a jig. This is going to sound over-the-top corny, but that's okay. I'll admit to being a corny nerd. Anyhow, first thing every morning, a song goes through my mind... and the words set my mood for the day: This is the day, this is the day. This is the day that the Lord has made, that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice, let us rejoice, and be glad in it, and be glad in it. Yeah, I know. Not exactly fancy lyrics, but the tune is bouncy and the message is a reminder to be grateful.

When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive — to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to live — then make that day count. [Steve Maraboli]

And I have even more reasons than usual to be grateful now. One GREAT BIG AMAZING reason.

Smarticus' lung cancer is G-O-N-E, GONE!!! Just typing those words makes me cry all over again. But it's a good cry, a really really good cry.

His oncologists are rather amazed, actually. Amazed that he suffered next to no side effects from the chemo and radiation, and amazed that he conquered the vile beast called lung cancer.

I'm grateful... but not amazed. Positive thinking made me believe, all along, that this would be the outcome. So that's one huge hurdle cleared, and a couple more to go. Monday, he'll be starting the first of ten rounds of radiation for brain cancer. Just between you and me, I know he's gonna kick its butt, too. But just in case I don't post for a couple of weeks, I want you to know all is well, and...

                                                          WE'RE VERRRRY HAPPY!!!

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. [Melody Beattie]

Although I haven't had the pleasure of meeting most of you in person, I don't consider you strangers. I think of you as friends. My blogging pals. And I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your kind thoughts, wishes, words, and prayers. Your support has been dynamite.

A quick aside. If you smoke, or if you stopped smoking in recent years, (Congratulations!) I highly recommend an annual CAT scan to keep an eye on your lungs. By the time a person shows symptoms of lung cancer, or it can be seen on a standard chest X-ray, it may be too advanced. Smarticus' lung cancer was caught very early, and he was completely asymptomatic. The once-a-year lung cancer screening program he was in... saved his life. His docs praised our positive attitudes, but that SCAN... I can't say enough good things about that scan, and about the doctor who got him into that screening  program. Okay. End of my PSA.

Okay, so maybe our cats aren't exactly demonstrative about their gratitude... but that doesn't mean we should wait. Having appreciation and  not expressing it is like having a beautifully wrapped gift and not opening it.

That's the way it seems sometimes, isn't it? Everybody's got a beef about something or another. Why not think of something that makes you... happy? That makes you smile, feel good, and feel downright grateful.

I wanted to close this post with a music video. At first, I thought about This is the Day, but nah. I'm feeling so full of joy, I decided Ode to Joy would be a better choice. Most of you are quite familiar with Beethoven's original arrangement, but this one is a little different. More... ragtime. Upbeat. Bubbling over with joy... just like me. I hope you like it. I think it's rather amazing. Just like this day. And this life.

                                       Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

        Don't miss today's sunshine  worrying about rain that might be coming tomorrow. 

Shall We Dance?

Thought for the day: Dance like no one is watching, love like you'll never be hurt; sing like no one is listening, and live like it's heaven on earth. [William Purkey]

[image courtesy of unsplash]

I've never been all that great of a dancer. Not that I didn't love doing it... but let's just say no one ever tried to recruit me for a touring dance troupe. For the most part, what I lacked in talent, I made up for with enthusiasm. I did manage to take first place in a jitterbug contest a million years ago, but I attribute that entirely to my dance partner. Bobby reeeeeally knew how to lead.

And about forty years ago, believe it or not, I actually took belly dancing lessons. It was a lot of fun, but it was more of an exercise class than a genuine dance class. The instructor lured some of us into continuing with her "advanced" class by promising we'd make costumes and perform at a local nursing home. We did neither, which, in retrospect is probably a good thing. Not the costumes part. The part that would've had a handful of silly housewives jiggling and wiggling in front of a bunch of captive seniors.

In more than fifty years of marriage, Smarticus and I have done a lot of dancing. We even belonged to a club for a few years that gave us lots of opportunities to dance. But it's been a while. I still sway and clap or snap my fingers to the background music that's playing while we shoot pool, but I suppose my days of getting out on a dance floor may be near an end. (Maybe at one of our grandchildren's weddings...?)

But wouldn't it be nice... I mean, really really nice... if we could all dance with the reckless abandon of a child? To simply bubble over with the infectious feel of the music and the explosive joy of moving...  without a single shred of self-consciousness? Without the self-doubts that tell us I don't know how.

Why can't we? What's stopping us? I say... nothing is stopping us ... but us.  I say forget about that dance like nobody's watching stuff. I say dance like a child. They don't even need music.

Matter of fact, I think I'm gonna go dance around our bedroom.(AFTER I take a couple of Aleve...)  Pretend I know what I'm doing. Why the heck not? Nobody will be watching but the cats. And they might even join in.  And, hmmm, if I'm not mistaken, I may still have some belly dancing music around here... THAT should be a REAL hoot! I may even scare up one captive senior who might appreciate it...

Talking about dancing with reckless abandon, I'm gonna share a portion of  one of my early... way early... blog posts, back when I only had a handful of followers:

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Do you remember Shirley Temple?

She was an amazing child star, and the absolute epitome of golly-gee-whiz cuteness, with her bouncy blonde curls, chubby cheeks and deep dimples. In the '50s, after she was already a grown woman, my friends and I were still watching her old movies, still watching her sing and tap dance across our tiny TV sets. Most of my friends hated her, but me? I wanted to BE her.

How I longed for my limp straight-as-a-stick hair to magically turn into those bouncy sausage curls. How I longed to sing those sweet songs as sweetly as she. And, oh! How I longed to tap dance!

In reality, my hair was worn in one of two styles, and I use the term loosely. Either it was straight and looked like Prince Valiant's do, which can be approximated by sticking a mixing bowl on your head and cutting around it, or it was tortured into a Little Orphan Annie frizz by virtue of a smelly home permanent. No sausage curls for me, bouncy or otherwise.

The singing I did okay. Never American Idol quality, but I could carry a tune. But dance? I could make my way around the neighborhood by walking strictly on top of the chain link fences, could climb the tallest trees, and could ride my bicycle down the multi-flights of concrete stairs by the elementary school without quite killing myself, but let's just say that I was never the most graceful kid on the block. I had two over-sized left feet, and my favorite aunt called me Lurch.

But one magical day, during one of our huge extended family gatherings, I made an amazing discovery in the shadows behind my uncle's cellar steps... my older cousin's long-forgotten and bee-yoo-ti-ful sparkly red tap shoes!

[image courtesy of morguefile]

                   

Believe you me, it took quite a while to squeeze into those tiny shoes. But I did it, and then in the shadows behind the cellar steps, I began to dance. Not sure it would've qualified as anything close to tap dancing, though. It was more like a Snoopy happy dance. If Snoopy had his feet shoved into shoes that were two sizes too small. Then, of course, I had to sing...  On the Good Ship Lollipop.

[image courtesy of unsplash]

I was having a grand ol' pinch-toed time until some of my relatives found me. And laughed. Laughed until they almost wet themselves. (Did I happen to mention that my relatives were terribly rude?) Nah, it was all in fun, and once my mother helped pry my poor feet out of those shoes, the family continued to tease me about that adventure for many years to come.

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Even after all these years, I still remember how happy it made me to find those shoes and to dance with the sheer joy of dancing. We should all try to do that more often, don't you think?

Dance and sing to your music. Embrace your blessings. Make today worth remembering. [Steve Maraboli]

It's no secret that some dark health clouds have been hanging over our house for a while, but I think that's an even bigger reason to dance. To sing. To laugh. None of us get to live forever, so we've absolutely got to make the most of each day.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain.

How about you? Who did YOU want to be when you were a kid? Besides Shirley Temple, I also wanted to be Dale Evans. That didn't work out so hot, either. I remember going horseback riding one time, and carrying a nice apple to feed my horse. Poor ol' thing didn't have a tooth in her head. Not positive, but I'm pretty sure Dale Evans' Buttercup had teeth.

                           Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

[image courtesy of unsplash]

                                            Embrace life. This may be the only one we get.

Back Home Again

Thought for the day:  I think what you notice most when you haven't been home in a while is how much the trees have grown around your memories.  [Mitch Albom]

This is an old picture of my mom (far right) and some of her siblings. It tears at my heart a little to look at this picture, because they're all long gone now.

... I wasn't homesick for anything I would find at home when I returned. The longing was for what I wouldn't find. The past and all the people and places there were lost to me.  [Alice Steinbach]

Smarticus and I just returned home from Baltimore. Even though we've called Georgia home since 1971, the ghosts of our childhoods still reside in Baltimore. Never are we more aware of them than when we re-visit some of our old haunts, like we did last weekend. Places that used to teem with crowds of people are now mostly vacant. Sealed off.


Like this place. Loch Raven. Once upon a time, every roadway here was lined with cars. Lots of young people waxing their cars, and striking poses. (You know, in case anyone was looking...) Lots of cruising and schmoozing. Lots of laughter.

There used to be picnic areas, and places to hike, too. And we loved to walk out across the top of the dam to watch the water spilling over it, and marvel at the gargantuan carp swimming down below. Now? No can do. Everything is fenced off. Eerie. There were no signs of other visitors around, unless you count all the Canadian geese. Methinks people-type visitors aren't welcome there anymore.

We experienced the same thing at Rocks State Park, which used to be one of our favorite places to visit. Smarticus and I went there right before he went into the Army in 1969.

We took quite a few pictures that day, but this is my favorite. I'd hoped to recreate it.

No such luck. We couldn't get to that area anymore. You guessed it. Blocked off.

So I took THIS picture, and I like it just as well. (Hmmm, might have something to do with being kinda partial to the subject matter...)

Even though the places we visited had changed so dramatically, our trip to Baltimore wasn't about the places. Not at all.

Home is a people. Not a place. If you go there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there anymore.  [Robin Hobb]

Yes...it was about  people. Some very special people... my cousins, many of whom were also very dear childhood friends. And last weekend, a bunch of us got together in Baltimore for a reunion. That's the really cool thing I was doing. We came together to celebrate... us.  (While some of us are still left.) Believe it or not, I met one cousin for the first time. We found out a couple years ago that Kathy had been given up for adoption by one of my aunts, and though we've communicated via email and telephone, this was our first face-to-face. She and her husband came all the way from California to meet us. My brother came in from Texas, and he hadn't seen some of our cousins since before he went into the Marines in 1959. So as you can imagine, it was an incredible gathering. I'll only share a few pics with you...

Remember this shot of my cousin Phyllis and me? I just shared it on a post last month.

Well, we tried to recreate it last weekend... without the tent, of course. Or the svelte young bodies. But every time I attempted to strike an approximation of the original the-wind-is-blowing pose, she'd say something to make me laugh.




So we settled for this one. Close enough.

Here's some of the crew. That's my brother Ron on the far left, and my "baby" cousin Curt with his arm around Diane and me. Patty, next to my brother, is the "classy" one among us, although she'd probably argue with me about that. Kathy is next to me, and we found we have so much in common, it's as though we were separated at birth. (As she pointed out, in a way... we were.) That's Curt's son Jacob behind us. He'd valiantly been trying to horn into the many pictures taken of this group, and he finally succeeded. (Might I add that the camera added at LEAST twenty pounds to each of us... except for Jacob, of course. Clearly, it's a blatant case of ageism.)

I won't bore you with more pictures of people you don't know. A lot of our cousins weren't able to join us, but for those of us who were there, it was a magical day. For that one day, the extra pounds, wrinkles, and gray hairs magically melted away. For just that one day, we celebrated family and our lifelong friendships, and ya know what? It doesn't get much cooler than that. Dare I say it? We all felt young again.

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. [Mark Twain]

... I wasn't homesick for anything I would find at home when I returned. The longing was for what I wouldn't find. The past and all the people and places there were lost to me.  [Alice Steinbach]

Sometimes, Alice, if we're very lucky, those lost people can be found again. For one glorious day, we found each other, and the memories we share exploded into full-screen technicolor happiness.

                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.