Grateful and Thankful - A Wonderful Thanksgiving!

Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone way too quickly. 

The four-hour car ride with our little dog, Popcorn, on my lap as my husband drove, was filled with laughs. My daughter’s boyfriend brought along a comedy show that was perfect!  We laughed and I can't tell you enough how much I enjoyed the ride!  Even the rest stop was fun, if you can believe that! We walked the dog and bought some good snacks to enjoy through the second half of the journey!  The time passed quickly, and as we neared my son and his girlfriend’s apartment, I could feel my heart smile even wider.  Sharing the ride with my daughter, who is the most thoughtful, loving woman you could ever meet and her caring, loving boyfriend, was a perfect way for my husband and I to enjoy the journey, but now we were nearing the part where we would all be together!

I sent my son a text that we were a few minutes away and as we rounded the bend into his apartment complex I could see him and his girlfriend walking through the parking lot to greet us.  After six long weeks of being apart – I just wanted to hug him close.  With tears of happiness, I soaked in and cherished that hug so much.  I didn’t want to let him go. If I could have hugged him down the steps and in the door, I would have…but it would have looked silly to the rest of the universe!

They had a delicious lunch waiting for us.  I kept looking around the table, being sure to take that mental picture I always write about.  With everyone’s schedules it is no longer easy having everyone together.  This was my moment.  It is imprinted in my mind and will always be alive in my heart.

I wish my extended family, my Mom, brothers, nephews, nieces and great-niece, along with my Aunts, cousins and friends could all be together, but logistics make that impossible.  So, instead, I would treasure this time to devote to just my immediate, amazing family.  I will look forward to everyone else posting pictures on Facebook so we may at least share the day in cyber space!

But, back in my son’s apartment, we were laughing and enjoying being together!  I just kept looking over at my son and daughter and thinking how fast time goes by.  How was it possible that they were all grown, adults, forging their own paths?  Sometimes the minutes of our lives pass slowly, but I have found that no matter how slow the minutes, the years’ pass in a blink.  My son in graduate school…. my daughter a teacher…. I am so proud!!  Their choices in spouses - excellent!!  

Thanksgiving dinner was approaching.  We heated the food, which had been so lovingly prepared, and set the table.  I must admit I will brine again!  The turkey was amazingly good.  The dinner ended with cupcakes baked by my daughter and a cheesecake baked by our hosts along with other treats.  Delicious, sweet, wonderful – the desserts were as perfect as the entire Thanksgiving meal.

The rest of the weekend flew by and through all the events, a wine tasting, shopping, playing games, watching television, talking; I tried to appreciate every moment we were together. During the last few hours of our visit, we toured the campus where my son is studying for his PhD.  It was a beautiful day, more like spring than close to winter, and as we walked around the campus, I knew our time together, this time, was inching to a close.

Saying good-bye is not easy.  Maybe if I closed my eyes and wished really hard it would be Thursday morning again and we would just be pulling into the parking lot?  It didn’t work.  It was still Saturday, late afternoon, and we were packing up and heading back home.

As I hugged my son I flashed back to when he was a little baby.  I remember one particular night, he wasn’t sleeping well and I was rocking him in his room.  It must have been about 2 or 3 in the morning.  I had him on my shoulder and his little head was turned toward me as his eyes were finally fluttering closed.  His profile is etched in my mind.  I remember thinking then that some day this little, precious baby boy would be a man, would be taller than me, with wide, strong shoulders, and now, here I was being hugged goodbye by this tall man, with wide, strong shoulders.  A really good man, a man I am so proud of every minute of every day. 

As we drove away, I looked in the back seat to see my beautiful daughter.  I know how precious life is, and on this Thanksgiving holiday, I am so very thankful.

A Brining Disaster!!

It looked so easy on the cooking channel!  You just take your turkey, place it in the brining bag, add whatever brining recipe you choose, seal the bag and refrigerate. The turkey will marinate and then, after it’s cooked, it will be the most succulent, delicious turkey you’ve ever made!  It sounded so simple, and I found the brining bag on the aisle of Bed, Bath and Beyond and it was free with my $5 coupon!  How could I not brine - ?

While I was working at my part-time job yesterday, my wonderful daughter prepared the brine according to the directions on the brining bag box.  The ingredients sounded wonderful, molasses, kosher salt, sugar, garlic, maple syrup and lemon juice.  When I arrived home, we cleaned and dried the turkey and opened the box, which held the special brining bag.  It was a huge, strong bag!  My husband gently placed the turkey in the bag for me, as it, the turkey, weighs a ton.  (We earned a free turkey from our supermarket and therefore it was incumbent upon us to purchase the largest free bird possible.)

After he placed the turkey in the bag, my husband went in the other room leaving my daughter and I to add to the brining liquid to the turkey.  My daughter held the bag open for me as I gradually added the liquid, cup by cup.  As the bag filled, we kept close watch as according to the directions, the bird was to be fully covered. 

Suddenly, with the bag ¾ full of brine, the bag just caved in!  One end of it uncontrollably flopped to the side and gallons of the brine cascaded all over the kitchen!  The counter, the cabinets (inside and out), the silverware drawer, the stovetop, underneath the stove, especially the floor, all were covered with the sticky, salty fluid!

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I started laughing hysterically.  My husband ran down the steps to see what was going on and stepped fully into an inch of brine that was flowing over the tile floor!  With a look of horror I will keep in my mind for years to come, he started screaming how everything was covered in salmonella!  My daughter had to be sure her blackberry, which she had been holding in her other hand at the time of the explosion, was functioning, so she left the room. 

Luckily, we had just finished drying a load of towels so we gathered as many as we could, along with an entire roll of paper towel and cleaned the mess.  My husband had to pull the stove away from the wall so we could clean beneath it.  The silverware drawer had to be emptied as brine had worked its way in to each compartment; spoons, forks, knives, nothing was spared.  After about 25 minutes of disinfecting, drying, and cleaning, the kitchen was pretty much returned to normal, but the bird was still sitting in the bag.

My husband told me HE would hold the bag this time and so, once again, we began filling the bag with brine as we luckily (we thought) still had plenty brine left.  The turkey was about ¾ covered when I thought it needed just a little bit more.  Being out of brine, I decided adding one measuring cup (which is equal to 4 cups of water) could be added and it would be just enough.  So, I began to add that last cup while my husband continued to hold the bag. 

In an instant, an instant I tell you, the bag once again flopped down and with a splash and a flood like you could never imagine the brine, once again, gushed all over the entire kitchen.  The flooding brine covered even further this time.  It washed over the entire stove, filled the floor, once again invading every cabinet, drawer and crevice.  My husband was covered, from his chest to his socks with the brine and he was not happy. 

Once again, I started to laugh as I truly felt I was in an episode of situation comedy.  If only we had taped this entire ordeal, we would be a hit on youtube!  My husband did not appreciate either the humor of the situation or my hysterics.  He was beside himself and didn’t know where to run first!  He continued his salmonella mantra while getting even more towels out of the laundry basket!

A half hour later, so this is an hour since we started with this “simple brine”, we were finishing up cleaning the kitchen, using our steamer to be sure the floor was disinfected.  The turkey was still sitting proudly in the bag, with about an inch or two or brine, seemingly laughing at us.

We gave up.  We sealed the bag and placed the turkey in the refrigerator.  I finished cleaning the counters, having to even wash the liquid soap dispenser and the dish detergent bottle.   Before going to sleep we carefully flipped the bird in the bag so the other side would marinate overnight in the measly two inches of brine. 

The turkey is now cooking.  We rinsed it off this morning and drained the remaining brine down the drain.  After seasoning the bird with what smells like an amazing basting recipe received from a Williams Sonoma email, the turkey has now been cooking for 4 hours.

I must say, it smells amazing.  Just like Thanksgiving…

Have a wonderful holiday everyone!  And to all my friends and family, thank you for all the love and support you give me every day.  To all my blog followers, both in and out of the United States, I am thankful to you, too, and hope you continue to enjoy reading AWomansRoom.blogspot.com! 

It is people that make this life worth living.  Thank you all so much for being such wonderful people, such dear friends, and such great companions.  I love you all!

Retail Lunacy!

It’s early on an oddly warm November morning.  The manager of the store who happens to be my dear friend and I are working hard, unpacking shipment and putting new merchandise on display for our customers’ shopping ease and pleasure. With Thanksgiving coming this Thursday many early birds, (pardon the Thanksgiving expression) are getting a head start purchasing their Holiday gifts, decorations and wrapping paper.  The store is ramping up, the music is playing happy holiday tunes and everyone is busy enjoying the early holiday spirit!

A tall, young gentleman arrived at the cashier counter and asked me if there was a particular Transformer action figure on hold.  He stated the name of the figure and told me it should be on hold for ‘Keith’.  After a bit of searching, my manager found the character on top of a display of Snuggies placed on the shelf behind the cash registers.  The man was thrilled! He smiled a big, wide smile and asked if any other stores in our chain had this same character.  Eager to help, we called one or two other stores; no one had any of the figures.  The gentleman, Mike was his name, then explained to us that this figure, which we sell for $5, was selling for up to $75 on Ebay!  He left his name and telephone number and asked if we would be kind enough to call him if any more of this particular transformer was shipped to us.  With that, he left, thanking us for our help.

For the next hour we continued to be busy, very normal for this time of year. While pricing a shipment of gag soap, soap that looks like any regular bar but suds to a bloody lather, a middle-aged woman appeared at the register.  Politely she asked if we had a particular transformer on hold for Keith.  I looked at her, startled, and explained that we had such a transformer on hold, but that a gentleman named Mike had already picked it up.  Her eyes opened wide and with a glare that can only be described as crazed, she began to berate me.  “Why didn’t you ask for ID?” she demanded!  “I don’t know anyone named Mike and that toy was for my son and I”, she exclaimed! Now, please keep in mind, her son was not a little boy, he was a grown man who wanted the toy to sell on Ebay.

ID, I thought to myself, are you kidding me? This is a $5 toy!  But knowing I couldn’t say those things out loud, I simply informed the woman that the only ID we require for picking up a toy on hold, is the knowledge that the toy is on hold.  With anger in her eyes, she told me her son had given distinct instructions that ONLY Keith or Regina were permitted to purchase the transformer.  I informed her that the only paper on the toy was a note that it was on hold for Keith, there were no further instructions.  She seemed horrified!  I then asked her how someone else could know the toy was on hold under that name.  She replied, (hold onto your hat), that her son was so excited to know he found one of these “valuable” toys that he posted its location on his Facebook status the previous night! 

Politely I responded that we sometimes forget the fact that Facebook needs to be respected for its broadcast capabilities.  I expressed my regret that the wrong person had picked up the toy but told her that we truly had no way of knowing Mike was not sent to pick it up.  (I mean really…if you want to keep something secret, it shouldn’t be posted as your Facebook status!)  She told me the loss of the toy was extremely upsetting to her and that I needed to fully appreciate the gravity of the situation! Gravity she said!  A $5 toy! OY!!  She glared at me, a full, harsh stare for about 45 seconds.  She then walked around the perimeter of the cashier’s desk and stood right inside the doorway.  Before heading out of the store, she glared at me for another full minute!  There was honestly nothing more I could say to help this woman feel better about what had happened.  I believed anything additional would just make her angrier.  I wanted to explain to this woman that there were things in life worthy of being upset about but this wasn’t one of them!  Instead, I went back to pricing gag soap, as if the clip, clip, clip of the pricing gun would calm the situation. After a minute or so, I turned around to find she had gone.

The Holidays are a busy, fun, wild time in retail.  The days fly by as customers and stock keep us on constant move.  Most people in our store enjoy the fact that the toys are fairly priced and that the children in their lives are going to love and enjoy them.  It’s a happy place and customers like the ‘Transformer Lunatic’ are, thankfully, rare.

So, happy shopping everyone!  Black Friday is around the corner – enjoy the hunt!  But hopefully keep in perspective that a toy is just a toy and its purpose is to make someone you love happy.  Remember, the loved ones are what's important, not the toy.  And try to remember that every retail sales person is someone's loved one.

Happy shopping to all!!

All My Children…We miss YOU!

We’ve endured almost two months now without our favorite soap.  Weeks without Tad, Jesse, Kendell, Zach, Ryan and Greenlee; it was not enjoyable.  My daughter and I watched clips of AMC on YouTube to help us “get over” the draught.  We watched times gone by in Pine Valley, stories with Myrtle that made us cry because we miss her compassion and humor. Her memory is certainly cherished.  We watched Palmer and Adam battling, then Adam and JR battling.  We cheered for Zach in his many acts of heroism and we admired Bianca for her strength. 

The Pine Valley family has been a large part of our lives, a fun diversion from the every day routine for decades.  It is a welcome form of entertainment that my daughter and I do not wish to do without.  There is no other television show that can recapture the deep, multi-faceted characters of Pine Valley for the simple reason that we have grown up with those characters, have followed their history and trials and tribulations year after year.  I remember Brooke and Erica as teenagers, rebellious, fun loving.  My daughter remembers Natalie in the well, and the entire Janet/Trevor storyline.  Visiting Pine Valley every day was a welcome escape from daily worries.

We hope, along with so many others we know, that the stories of “All My Children” will continue on-line.  We search headlines looking for some ray of sunshine, some new fact that will allow us to feel positive about our favorite storylines continuing.

To the All My Children family of actors, please consider the history and the groundbreaking stories your show has delved into.  Please understand that millions of us are looking forward to the deep interactions and intertwined lives of your characters continuing.  We hope you take these factors into consideration when weighing your options to continue this drama. 

The decades that Pine Valley existed, the worthwhile stories it promoted, the escape it provided, cannot be duplicated.  Just as the strength of a long marriage is enhanced and made irreplaceable through the years of shared experience, this show is unique and irreplaceable through its years of existence. 

Our lives are full and of course we will continue with or without “All My Children”, but we certainly hope that as we grow older, we do so in your good company.

Watching Videos of Times Gone By

Yesterday morning, sitting comfortably in my favorite living room chair, the one in which I usually fall asleep, I sat and watched a DVD from 1987 with my husband, my mom, my daughter and her boyfriend.   The quality of the pictures, technically, was not the best, but the pictures are worth a million dollars.

Life changes so gradually.  Looking back I realize how completely different life was in so many ways, yet, in so many other ways, things are exactly the same.

Getting beyond the huge glasses, the wide shoulder pads, and the HUGE hair, the people, my family, many of those there, are no longer here.  In the videos, my Grandparents were helping my four-year daughter overcome her fear of balloons popping.  It was my daughter’s 4^th birthday party. She was as adorable as she is today.  She's always funny, insightful, and beautiful. Her being who she is makes my heart smile, always has, from the moment she was born.  My Dad was sitting on the floor, watching the Eagles game, a usual Sunday activity.  My Mom was busy setting the table and to be quite honest, I seemed a bit overwhelmed and even a bit harried and cranky.  I wish that old me, who was so much younger than today’s me, had looked around at all the people who were in the room and appreciated the moment.  A room filled with so much love.  I just wish, looking back, I didn’t take so much of what was there that day for granted. 

My Grandfather was one of the nicest men to ever walk the earth.  He was a quiet man, a hard-working man, and a gentle giant.  He always had a cigar in his mouth, even though it was rarely lit.  Even when he fell asleep in a chair, the cigar would remain on his lips, a real marvel.  His smile would light the room.  My Grandmother was an amazingly protective woman who took great care of her “Herman”.  In the video, she was showing my daughter that a balloon, although possible to pop and vulnerable, was actually pretty strong.  My Grandmother always spoke her mind, but her love for her family was all encompassing, all protecting.  She taught me to never underestimate the power a woman holds, her importance for keeping a family together.  My Dad, a funny, loving, caring, dependable, brave man who I miss every day, was right there, healthy and strong.  They were all there, all in the room, yet I was so busy with so many things.  Was I too busy to appreciate all the love that surrounded me?  I know I took for granted that because those present had always been there, they would continue to always be there.  Unfortunately, that’s not how life goes.

Day by day life changes and we don’t realize that as the minutes tick away, the years are flying by.   Everyone is both vulnerable and strong.   The generations gradually change and as my Mom says, we move up to the next layer.  We start off young, the children, running around, having fun, complaining to be sitting at the kids table.  Then we turn into teenagers, thinking about where we’ll be heading with our friends AFTER the family get-together.  When we’re young married couples, we think we know so much.  Then, when we have children, we watch them run around, having fun, and we follow, being sure they’re safe.  When they become teenagers, we see the look in their eyes and remember, wondering how we can continue to keep them safe.  Before you know it, we’re the middle-aged relatives.  All of a sudden, we're the ones telling stories of how things were when we were young – before IPods and cell phones.  We see our parents aging; we lose people we thought would always be there, some way too young.

Videos are priceless.  They not only remind us of who we were, they remind us who we really are.  Family history, learned lessons, love given, love received, all these things have given us strength and courage.  All these actions have given us the support and love we need to function, to be productive and add value to life.  

There are now new faces at family gatherings.  Faces that weren’t born yet in 1987, faces we hadn’t met yet, but all are vital.  For example, my wonderful son who wasn’t born until 1988 wasn’t in this particular video, yet he, like my daughter, is of top importance to me.  They are my heart.  Each member of our family, from the littlest baby to the newest family member added through love or friendship, is priceless.  Each of us individually, our quirks, our presence, add up to a whole that is unique yet evidenced in each family photo around the globe.  Every life is precious and means the world to someone. 

The next time my family and friends are together I just want to be sure to appreciate that moment in time.  I want to spend quality time with every one there and be aware of how lucky we are, at that precise moment, to be together.  I don’t want to allow any of the cooking, cleaning, any of the work involved tasks to take priority over the fact that we are all together.  I want to be aware and appreciate - I also want to take videos for even as that moment is being enjoyed, it is flying by.  

I Wish I Could Sing!

Today, I was driving along on a beautiful, tree-lined road.  The sun was shining through golden, autumn leaves casting cool looking shadows on the sidewalk by the road.  Just then, the Jim Croce song, “Time in a Bottle”, came on the radio.  Instantly, I was transformed to another time and place, a place where I was much, much younger and my surroundings were very different.  Being that I was alone in the car at the time, I started singing with all my heart, really belting out the song while at the same time appreciating the power of the words.  After all, the lyrics have such special meaning considering Jim Croce died, tragically, so very young and so very suddenly.

As I was singing, I came to a red light.  Something drew my attention, pushing me to look over to the car on my right.  A young man was looking over at me, starring, the look on his face was actually hysterical.  His expression was one of disbelief, as if he thought I had lost my mind!  (Perhaps I had!)  Maybe he thought I was talking to myself, maybe he thought I was just a crazy middle-aged lady, whatever he thought I couldn’t even begin to imagine.  All I know is he was a lucky man.  He was lucky because he couldn’t possibly have heard me singing!  My windows were up, very tight.  After all, I may love to sing, but I was certainly not blessed with a beautiful singing voice, and subjecting the world to my voice is simply too harsh an action. 

My Dad, however, had an amazing voice.  He used to sing Frank Sinatra songs on Sunday mornings and I am not exaggerating when I say, to me, he sounded exactly like ‘Old Blue Eyes’ himself.  I would sit in my room and listen to my Dad singing while he was getting dressed for the day.  To this day I can hear him, loud and clear, in my head. Those memories still make my heart smile.  “All or Nothing at All”, “Come Fly With Me”, “Strangers in the Night”, and “What are You Doing the Rest of your Life” would be playing and my Dad knew every word and would sing out strong.  I really loved those times.  His strong voice, so clear and deep would ring through the upstairs.  If he was singing, all was right with the world.

Although I have my Dad’s love for music, I do not have the quality of his voice.  I heard myself sing on a cassette tape, once, many years ago, and could not believe that horrible voice was mine!  You would think it would keep me from ever singing again, but it doesn’t.  I’ll sing whenever I am given the chance, as long as I’m with those that care about me.  I would never subject strangers to my squeaking!  I love the XM radio in my car.  I don’t bring my IPod when I drive as most people do, as I love the surprise of not knowing what song is coming on next.  Each song is like a little gift, bringing back its own memories and feelings.  (At home I use my IPod, especially when I cook…I sing and stir and sauté and I’m a happy lady!)

I admire and am a bit envious of anyone who can carry a tune and wish I could do so.  But, whether I am off-key or not, I will continue to sing at any opportunity.   Whether it’s Carole King, Cat Stevens, James Taylor, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, the Beatles, or pretty much anyone, I will sing along.   I honestly don’t care who pulls up in the car next to me, who’s watching television in the other room, or what they think when they hear me, I will sing and enjoy. 

So, the next time you pull up to a light and there’s a lady in a car really getting into the music, stare all you like, but just let her be.  She may be a bit strange, but she’s having fun!  Perhaps just be happy, and maybe a bit thankful, that her windows are up! 

Too Late For Lunch ~ Too Early For Dinner!

Too late for lunch, too early for dinner

If I eat now, I’ll get fatter, not thinner

But hunger has struck like the clock at three

As I gaze in the fridge, longingly…

There’s juice and milk, pickles and butter

But nothing that makes my heart flutter.

So down one shelf I peek some more

Some yogurt, an apple, oh what a bore!

Then one shelf below, I start to shake!

A leftover piece of creamy cheesecake!

I try to ignore it with all my might

But cheesecake is a true delight…

Maybe just a sliver will suffice

Carefully I cut a super thin slice

Placed on its side the little piece sat

It looked amazing, (though a little flat),

My fork cut through with silky ease

My taste buds ready for my cake of cheese…

I closed my eyes; it was so smooth

Maybe being fat was a worthy move?

The creamy sweetness on my lips;

The calories heading for my hips ~

I savored each bite with blissful pleasure.

A piece of heaven, a worthy treasure~

So when it’s too late for lunch, too early for dinner

And you’re in search of a treat that’s really a winner

Don’t feel guilty, choose your snack with flair

There’ll be plenty time later to hit the stairs!

Lottery Dream is Kaput!

Okay, so I bought FOUR tickets to the lottery the other day while so tempted by “the dream”.  I purchased two Power Ball tickets and two Mega Millions.  Out of all four tickets, ONE number matched.  ONE!!  Now, luckily, that one number was the power ball number so I will win $2 of my $4 bet back.  But, this is why I don’t play the lottery.  I don’t win!

The thoughts of what I would do with all the winnings have plunked into the waste bin of broken dreams.   Now, I suppose, the trick going forward is to decide what to do with the ideas that now sit, crumpled, in that bin.  How can I possibly ever achieve even one of those lofty goals? 

Aside from my desire to write, which hopefully some people enjoy through this blog, my dream of opening my own, unique coffee house is the most realistic of everything I wrote and thought about.  To be honest, I came very close to realizing that dream many years ago.  A co-worker and I had actually reached the point of meeting with some businessmen who were offering a coffee house franchise opportunity. The franchise was named Ebenezer’s.  In those days, Starbucks was relatively new and Ebenezer’s was going to take their premise, add entertainment and more food options (this was before Starbucks added other food options of their own), and Ebenezer’s was going to storm ahead in the coffee business. 

Unfortunately, that plan fell through when the woman who was going to be my partner backed out.  As the time of handing over deposits grew closer, she felt it was too much of a financial risk being that she was a single mother.  I understood, but was utterly disappointed.  I could not buy into the franchise alone at the time due to my own financial constraints, so the bottom line was, the business was not to be.

I suppose, in retrospect, that result was for the best since that franchise never did succeed, anywhere.  But the image in my head of MY Coffee House…maybe called Grounds for Discussion, or even just My Coffee House, is still a dream I hold dear. 

Until I can find a way to make that dream a reality, I will continue with my other heart-felt dream, my love for writing.  It is truly cathartic and another way of growing and learning.  Until my coffee house exists, and probably even afterward, I sincerely hope you continue to enjoy drinking in what has been percolating in my brain.  Some days my thirst for communication leads me to a bold, strong, French roast, some days it’s more decaf.  But, either way, I hope you always find it satisfying and heart-warming.

Have a perky day!!

Should I Buy that Lottery Ticket?

Decisions, decisions!!  There’s a long line in the local convenience store this morning.  The lottery might as well be a bazillion dollars, as any additional monetary help would be truly super right now!  As I watch the people in line, old men with deep wrinkles and red suspenders, young men in dusty work clothes, businesswomen in a hurry and moms with young children in their arms, the hope on all their faces is obvious. The dreams that live in all of us are strong and alive!

What would I do if I won bazillion dollars?  I’m standing in the middle of the bread and chip aisle contemplating that fact, as I seem to be heading into the line by an invisible push of hope and dreams.  If I won bazillion dollars I would first let my friends and family know they would never have to worry about money again. College loans, paid off; mortgages, gone; retirement set.  From there, each of them could then be free to do what they have always wanted to do, not what they have always had to do. 

My dream?  I’ve always wanted to own my own coffee house.  To own a welcoming, warm spot with lots of room for people to come in, enjoy some good, healthy food and rich, delicious coffee.  We could have speakers that would teach us about leading calm, productive, helpful lives; speakers that would inspire conversations about life, love, and happiness.  There could be music nights, poetry nights, a book club, even Weight Watcher meetings and recipe exchanges!  The atmosphere would be soothing and natural.  Each and every day I would not only get to know the “regulars” better but also I would be happy and fulfilled meeting new people every day!  What joy!

From there, after fixing up my house, updating my 70’s style bathrooms and putting in new flooring and windows, I would turn my sights to others.  With a bazillion dollars I could feed the hungry and shelter those who need help all around the world.  I would fund research so intelligent scientists, like my son, would be able to do all that is in their power to cure diseases like cancer and ALS.  I would invest in green energy and yes, I would donate to positive, progressive candidates who are more concerned with helping those in need than those who are not.

I was awoken from my revelry when the man behind the counter looked at me…"Ma’am", he said.  “May I help you?”

With that I realized my decision was made.  I was buying into the dream just like everyone ahead of me and behind me.

Hey, if you know me…wish me luck!  After all, we’re in this together! 

Trick....or Treat.....?

The frost is on the pumpkin…literally.  The snow started falling around 10 AM this morning and by the time I am writing this, 3 PM, the roads are slippery and dangerous. It’s too early for this, barely autumn! We still have our screen doors in and the leaves on our trees are just beginning to change color!

To be honest, I remember very cold Halloween nights when I was young; trick-or-treating with a heavy coat covering my costume.  No matter how much I would argue with my Mom about the necessity to wear a coat, she always won, and I was always happy about her winning once I walked along for a few minutes.  But snow on Halloween?  I never remember this before and Halloween isn’t even until Monday!  The snow is piling up outside, the freezing rain is pelting against the window, it’s nasty and cold to the bone even in the house! 

They say the storm will only last for the day and that by Monday, when the trick-or-treaters come door-to-door, it should be more in keeping with October weather. But, will the princesses, witches, ghosts and goblins have to wear snow boots for walking across the lawns? 

For those who don’t choose to listen to the science that is quite proven and clear, how about simply opening your eyes?  The weather is consistently crazy these last few years and getting even crazier as time moves along.  Hurricanes in the Northeast United States…snow storms in October…excessive, over 100 degree heat daily, in July followed by constant,heavy, torrential rain in August…snowmaggedon multiple times last winter?  Let’s be real, the climate is changing and it’s time to do all we can to stop and then reverse this trend.

The trick is to outsmart the lobbyists fighting to keep their outrageous profits flowing at the expense of all mankind.  We need to encourage using an energy source that does not further damage the environment and encourage some new company, or even an existing one, to produce clean energy and provide jobs while saving the environment for our children and our children’s children.  Denying the existence of what is real doesn’t change reality; it only further destroys and damages making the fix that much harder.  It is absolutely time, today, to stop denying what is in our faces, the snow that is falling on our pumpkins. We need to accept the truth and stop allowing ourselves to be tricked by big oil companies whose convenient “science” flies in the face of reality.  Once we move in the clean energy direction, we can move forward and succeed in building a cleaner, safer environment for everyone - and that will truly be a real treat for us all!

Interview with William Bertram MacFarland, author of "Back Channel - The Kennedy Years"

My interview with Mr. MacFarland was extremely interesting.  Mr. MacFarland is truly a patriot.  He is someone who exhibits intelligence and bravery and I am proud to have had the opportunity to communicate with him.

I hope you find the interview interesting.  Please look for his book on Amazon, it’s a definite must read!!

What made you feel compelled to write these volumes at this time?

Well, for one thing, I’m certainly not getting any younger but much more importantly; I think Americans need to understand how their government really works.  It’s important that the public be given the facts so that they are motivated to get involved and actively participate.

What are the main themes you hope to get across to the readers?

1.    On a personal level, I wanted to express my shock and anger at being betrayed by my own government and my deep disappointment in subsequently realizing that all governments, very much including our own, are truly amoral.

2.    I wanted to portray JFK as the courageous and caring person that he really was.

3.    I wanted people to understand how strongly Chairman Khrushchev was being urged by some of his top military advisors during the Cuban missile crises to make a devastating nuclear first strike on the United States.

4.    I wanted to show what the Vietnamese people thought about the United States military presence in their country and why we should have known from the outset that the war there could never have been won by us.

How was JFK different from other Presidents you worked with?  

He was much more open and honest than any other President I worked for.  He genuinely cared more for the good of the nation than he did for his own re-election.  He was incredibly courageous.  During the Cuban Missile Crisis, he steadfastly resisted the advice of his two top official advisors – the Secretaries of State and Defense – (and on at least two occasions that I am personally aware of, the advice of his top unofficial advisor – his brother Bobby, the U.S. Attorney General) to carry out “precision” air attacks on the Soviet missile silos but instead continued his tough negotiating stance with the Chairman of the Soviet Union – Nikita Khrushchev.  By doing so, he arrived at a peaceful resolution of a situation that avoided the nuclear war that Khrushchev’s top military advisors were advocating.

Secondly, he was the only President who became a close personal friend and invited me to become a member of his extended family.  He was the only President who invited me for extended stays as a guest in his homes in Hyannis Port and Palm Beach and who introduced me to his mother - (who I loved and spent considerable time talking to).

He almost always asked me to attend his meetings with top administration officers.  My function was to observe, synthesize and distill the factual, attitudinal and emotional essence of the meeting and to present it to him in private after the meeting ended.  He truly valued those analyses.

Subsequent Presidents mostly regarded me in the same way that a surgeon regards a scalpel – an indispensable tool, which must be used in surgical situations, but a tool that is extremely dangerous and must be handled with great care.  I accumulated rather inordinate power due to my vast network of contacts and “insider” knowledge of so many administrations.  I think some Presidents were actually afraid of me.

What qualities do you look for in choosing someone to be in such a powerful position?

If you are referring to Presidents, honesty, intelligence, transparency, a proven track record as a top administrator, reflective and measured responses to challenges, etc. - but first and foremost - a total willingness to sacrifice his political life for the good of the nation.

Is the President truly powerful or are other forces more powerful?

It is the Congress of the United States that has the power of the purse – and what a power that is!  The President has no power to spend any public funds that have not been appropriated to his control by Congress.  The Supreme Court also has enormous power as well.  Society has been monumentally changed by their decisions which, for example, eliminated segregation, legalized abortion, forced police to read a detainee his/her rights before being questioned (the Miranda decision), and prohibited the government from restricting corporations from making unlimited contributions to political campaigns.  In some sense, the Presidency is the weakest of the three supposedly co-equal branches of government.  In actuality however, the President can be much more powerful than the other two branches – by far.  It depends on the President himself.  His Constitutionally given authority to be Commander-in-Chief of the nation’s military forces is a formidable power but he assumes his most potent role when he acts effectively as the Convincer-in-Chief.  The President has unparalleled access to the public.  He is seen internationally as both the head of government and the head of state.  (In England, for example, the King/Queen is the head of State but the Prime Minister is the head of government.)  If the President can convince the people that he/she is a true leader whose practical but visionary plans will help the nation grow and prosper, there is almost nothing that can stand in his way.  It’s really up to the President.

Is there anything else you want your readers to know?

It always amazes me that JFK was the only U.S. President involved in the Vietnam war to send someone out to sit down with and talk to the Vietnamese people.  After Siddhi and I had spent two weeks talking with the village elders in villages all the way from the Delta in the south to nearly the demarcation line between North and South Vietnam, it was crystal clear that the South Vietnamese people wanted no part of a puppet government under the strong influence, if not outright control of, the United States.  Most people don't know much about Ho Chi Minh but he was a fascinating figure.  As a child he learned classical Chinese writing but also wrote fluently in colloquial Vietnamese.  He was educated in the French lycée in Hué.  In 1912, working as a cook's helper on a ship, he traveled to the U.S. and stayed for two years living first in Harlem and then in Boston.  He also lived in west London at various times from 1913 to 1919.  He lived in Paris, Moscow and China as well.

He was an ardent nationalist and dedicated his life to ensure that Vietnam would become a single, united country.  He was a brilliant, zealous, charismatic leader.  The United States has never seemed to learn that you can't bomb an idea.

Memories - Take a Mental Picture!!

Many years ago, 32 to be exact, I was both excited and nervous about my upcoming wedding.  All the planning, the people, the details – the thought of it all coming together was overwhelming!  Being that I am not the calmest of people, those who know me understand that is probably an understatement, I was a wreck thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong.

About two weeks before my wedding, I was watching television when a commercial for a fever blister medication, Campho-phenique, was aired.  My luck, the commercial highlighted a woman all dressed in her beautiful wedding gown, however, she suffered from a horrific, huge, protruding fever blister.  This blister transformed a most lovely bride with her beautiful hair and amazing figure into the bride of Frankenstein!  If it could turn this model of a woman into an ugly beast, oh my, I was doomed!!  Well, being the hypochondriac I am, I was certain I would have a horrific, huge, protruding, grotesque fever blister on MY wedding day!  There was no way around it…. or was there?

My cousin, Kenny, who has since passed away far too young, was a kind, thoughtful, talented dentist.  Being the brilliant young woman I was I assumed he would know a way to prevent fever blisters.  (After all, my lips were NEAR my teeth!)  I called him in a panic and asked his advice.  He tried to calm my fears, told me there was such a slim chance of my getting a fever blister on any particular day.  However, in order for me to have something in my mind, to bolster my feeling of being “in control”, he told me that perhaps if I put an ice cube to my lips for a short period of time in the morning and at night, it might help.  Kenny believed that advice would hold a placebo effect for me, he assumed, for some unknown reason, I was somewhat normal. 

However, he also added another bit of advice that was far more important to my life, a piece of advice I still take to heart at special times of even ordinary days.  Kenny told me that the wedding would fly by.  He told me to absorb all the feelings of the day, feelings from everyone there but especially from those most important to me.  In his wisdom, he told me to take a few, special, mental pictures.  His advice was to find my parents, my brothers, my closest friends and family and block out everything but the look on their faces and really take note of them at that moment.  Thanks to Kenny, I have those mental pictures in my mind.  I don’t need a photo album or any other device to see their happy faces.

As for the fever blister…well, that advice, although meant well, was naturally something I took to an absurd extreme.  I believed if a little ice twice a day would help keep a blister away, then obviously keeping ice on my lips constantly would definitely keep the blister away…. right?  Well, that’s what I did!  For four days before my wedding, whenever I was home, I kept an ice cube plastered to my lips.  Naturally, I gave myself a horrific, protruding, huge fever blister!  Yes I did!

Luckily, because it was self-imposed damage, it was only on my lip and easily concealed by lipstick.  (After I drove my Dad crazy driving around the suburbs asking every pharmacist what would take the blister away now that it was there…. Answer, nothing!)  

So, the moral of this story is two-fold.  Most importantly, take note of the now.  Physical pictures are irreplaceable and extremely important and worthwhile, but a mental picture will keep you company forever and help you remember to appreciate the “Now” as Eckert Tolle calls it, while it is happening.  The mental picture, when thought of, comes with the added bonus of the memory of the fresh emotions as they were felt at that special moment.  Without that mental exercise, I think the entire day, in retrospect, would have been a complete blur.  Instead, 32 years later, the images I concentrated on remembering are alive in my mind and can be thought of anytime and anywhere.

The second moral of the story, when talking to an insane, hypochondriac…remember, you are talking to an insane hypochondriac!

A Rainy, Wet Start to the Day!

The rain was pounding against the windows.  Leaves were blowing off the trees then sticking to the driveway and the road as if they were glued.  I grabbed my raincoat headed out the door, running to the car to minimize the wetness.  (My umbrella was nowhere to be found!)  The car was a welcome place of dryness.  As I backed out of the driveway, a huge gust of wind blew our neighbor’s trashcan right smack into my back bumper!  After putting the car in park, I ran out to check the bumper, luckily, by some miracle, it was fine.  The trashcan was drenched and the lid, which had blown off, was full of dirty water.  I picked it up hastily and the water poured down my pants leg.  Blech!

I schlepped the trashcan up their driveway and on my way running back to the car, I slipped on one of those leaves and landed flat on my back with the rain pelting me in the face.  This was not a great start to the day.

As smoothly as I could, I picked myself up off the ground.  Luckily, only my pride was hurt. I WALKED back into the garage as I was already soaked and then tiptoed into the house leaving a trail of dirty water on the foyer floor.  I had to get a towel and dry off – after quickly changing my slacks.

After cleaning up as best I could, and wiping the foyer floor, too, I went back out to the car…carefully. 

Okay now…heading to work.  The day is not starting off very well, but hey, let’s hope it goes up from here!!

Coming Soon - An Interview with Back Channel author, William Bertram MacFarland

I am absolutely thrilled and excited to be giving everyone a heads up for an interview I will be posting in the near future with William Bertram MacFarland, the author of  Back Channel: The Kennedy Years. 

After reading the book, which you may purchase through Amazon.com, I was beyond impressed with the patriotism, intelligence, and bravery of Bertie Mac.   The book is a fast-paced, amazing read and is unbelievably only the first volume of the series!  The facts revealed in this book will make the hair stand up on the back of your neck.  Reading the details of Bertie Mac’s entrance into the world of international secrets, his encounters and personal relationships with so many varied high ranking public officials from John F. Kennedy on down will keep you turning pages until, when you reach the end, you’ll be counting down the days until the next volume is published!  

Due to privacy concerns, I will not be able to meet with Mr. MacFarland in person, but we have devised a way for him to answer questions.  I will not edit his responses in any way.  Also, if you read the book in the very near future, feel free to forward your questions for Bertie Mac to me through my blog! There is still time to submit questions as our interview is ongoing!

I highly recommend that you purchase a copy of Back Channel.  I am confident, you will thank me.  The book will open your mind more than you can believe.  You will realize that what you have been told to believe is not even close to being the full story.  However, if your experience with this book is anything at all like mine and my son's (who also read and thoroughly marveled at the book), you will learn to question everything.  You will see the need to look beyond what is made available to you and to always remember that the man or woman living in our White House, NEEDS to be as intelligent and compassionate as humanly possible.  That special, powerful house is NOT a place for selfish, greedy, egomaniacal fools.

In the meantime, please check out William’s website:  www.bertiemac.com.  Once on the website, do yourself a favor and order a copy of the book.  You won’t be sorry.

An Upside to Alzheimer's?

I’ve been married for almost 32 years.  (Naturally, I was an infant bride.)  Through most of my married life and the year before, I have to say that my Mother-in-law was not fond of me.  Right after I became engaged, my future in-laws invited me to dinner.  I remember sitting at the table and my mother-in-law turning to my husband and saying, “You know who I bumped into today?  Leslie…. you know, the girl I wanted you to marry!!”  How do you respond to that?  Being that I was only 20 years-old at the time, I just sat silently.

Incidents like that happened frequently.  Another prime example happened five years later.  I was in the hospital having just given birth to my daughter.  I was still numb from the epidural and my hormones were certainly a bit crazy.  My in-laws came to see the baby.  My husband and my father-in-law walked to the nursery.  My mother-in-law stayed behind to have a little chat with me.  I remember her pulling a chair next to the bed.  I still couldn’t move at all, my legs were completely paralyzed from the anesthetic.  She whispered to me that she and “Dad” had just made up their wills.  She told me that she left me her engagement ring.  I was touched, but apparently that emotion was felt too soon. She went on to say…”However, WHEN her son divorces me, the ring is to go to my daughter.”

My husband and his Dad returned to the room to find my tears flowing.  My Mother-in-law told them I was emotional because she had just let me know she left her engagement ring to me in their will.  She neglected to finish the statement.

I was treated as a “non-blooder” the name they gave to any in-law. Needless to say, the more they treated me as a “non-blooder”, the more I acted as a “non-blooder”.  Over the years, the dysfunction was therefore on all sides.  There was never any closeness felt toward them or by them.  I let my husband deal with his family.  We invited them to family events and were always polite…but close, not a chance.

Fast forward to a few years ago when symptoms of Alzheimer’s began to show up.  My Mother-in-law would repeat things over and over again.  Most of the time, we thought she simply wasn’t paying attention.   They lived 2,000 miles away when the disease first manifested, so our interactions were not frequent and usually over the phone, not in person.  My Father-in-law covered for her very well, made excuses for her lack of retention, so we didn’t think much of it.

After the housing collapse in Florida, my in-laws moved back up north.  We thought it was simply a financial decision.  However, after they arrived we realized it was much more.

My Mother-in-law had been officially diagnosed as having Alzheimer’s disease.  Although she never liked me, I can honestly state she was always a strong-willed, fiercely determined woman.  Now, quite to the contrary, she is completely docile.  She still remembers who we are, but cannot keep straight what we are doing.  My husband and I invite them for dinner at least once a week.  These dinners have become quite the experience.  One thing Alzheimer’s has accomplished, which I never could, is my Mother-in-law now likes me!  It seems she has forgotten whatever reason she didn’t like me to begin with! 

I have to admit, that is a bright side!

She is now kind, thoughtful and considerate.  She asks, (albeit multiple times) if she can help in the kitchen.  She asks how I am, what’s new…and she honestly seems concerned and interested in the answer!

When looking for a bright side to this horrific disease, I must admit I have found that Alzheimer’s removes layers of baggage.  Since she is no longer capable of masking her feelings, perhaps my mother-in-law really didn’t dislike me all along! Perhaps there were other issues, more complex ones, that kept her from truly welcoming me to the family.  Just that thought lets me feel better and allows me to soften towards her.  And for her, I hope she feels confident that I was, after everything, a good choice for her son.  I wish her that peace.

Thirty-two years is a long time.  The span provides a view that offers a big picture look at relationships.  Naturally, my in-laws love their son.  I hope that perhaps because of my mother-in-law’s sickness, they can now see past the lines of defense that were previously set up and realize that I’m not that bad after all.  At least on most days~