Category Archives: Senior Citizens

Frivolous For The Soul

I had a need to write about something frivolous this week. With the downturn of the stock markets, and the low roads being taken by the politicians, I’m thinking I need to raise my spirits.

So here goes. If you look up the word frivolous on the internet, here are some of the things you find.

How would you expand the powers of the vice-presidency? I’d make it so they could fly in space anytime they want to.

There were other really good answers to this question, too. Like, “I’d give the VP the power to prosecute individuals for wearing white after Labor Day. ” If you want to see more, go to Booman Tribune.

How about this? Here’s the newest luggage model from Samsonite. Stop in at Core77 to see more frivolous, whacky stuff.

Are you up for a frivolous lawsuit? There are many, but here’s a good one.

In 1991, Richard Harris sued Anheiser-Busch for $10,000 for false advertising. Harris claimed to suffer from emotional distress in addition to mental and physical injury. Why? Because when he drank beer, he didn’t have any luck with the ladies, as promised in the TV ads. Harris also didn’t like that he got sick sometimes after he drank. The case was thrown out of court.

Whenever I feel somewhat off-balance, I tend to do something frivolous. This week was no exception. My vacuum cleaner blew up. It’s been acting strange for quite a while now, so its refusal to budge another inch came as no surprise, really. I decided its breakdown was a sign that I should do something frivolous to make myself feel better. So, I ordered an iRobot Roombah to do all future vacuuming for me.

I think I need to give my little robot a name so I can call to it while it works. Hmmm.

View From My Balcony

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It’s important to get rid of your mental noise once in a while, and you don’t need a balcony or a pier to do that. We’re all so busy, it’s hard to remember to take time out for quiet. Fortunately, it takes very little forethought to take an adult “time out.” For instance, try this some Saturday morning. The moment that you wake, but before you open your eyes, roll onto your back. Imagine yourself in your “happy place.” (You have one, don’t you?)

My serene spot is always by water. Maybe yours is in the mountains, or remembering sitting on your grandma’s lap with her arms wrapped around you. Whatever, or wherever–allow your imagination to drift away. Stay there for ten full minutes. What do you hear? Nothing, if you train yourself to do it right. This is where I go.

Don’t be afraid to daydream sometimes, either. Release the stress. Some people do that by writing a poem. This Daydream Haiku was written by Brigitte

The forest daydream,
Wherein I pick blackberries,
And find inner peace.

… inspired by daydreaming with a friend about moving to the mountains

DAME, too, suggests slowing it down a bit when things get too crazy.

…’today’ I’m a tad stressed. Generally I’m a go with the flow kinda girl but today the next few months seem positively overwhelming. Somehow just daydreaming about trouncing about in wool and bloomers carrying a feed bag, picking the flowers, baking the pie, and listening to the wind in the trees, is enough to catch a little mental relaxation.

No matter what you call it: time out, daydreaming, or mental relaxation–we all need it.

“Dumbfounded” by Matt Rothschild

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Before I even started reading this memoir, I had to chuckle over the Author’s Note. Matt wrote:

“I’m not going to feed you that same old baloney about how memory is imperfect…The truth is that while everything in this book happened, it didn’t always happen the way I say it did. Sometimes I changed names or descriptions of people and places. Big deal. Sometimes I altered chronology…made people look foolish when they weren’t so foolish, made people look good when they were fools…–I know you’ll love this one–said things happened in one place when they really happened somewhere else. Okay, so maybe that is a big deal…Some of this stuff is damn funny and some of it’s tragic. Just don’t take the window dressing too literally.”

I suppose Oprah would have apoplexy over that statement. It had the opposite effect on me. I wanted to read more.

You don’t expect a book written by a Jewish fellow to start off with a chapter involving Santa Claus, but this one does. The first chapter is titled Why I Don’t Believe In Santa Claus and it has nothing whatsoever to do with religion. As a matter of fact, Matt didn’t even know he was Jewish until he was in the second grade.

Abandoned as an infant by his mother, Matt was raised by his grandparents, while their daughter, his mother, chose to hobnob across Europe. If this makes the book sound like a tearjerker, pack that notion away. Although some chapters are poignant, for the most part, the book is fresh, humorous and, at times, uproarious.

His grandfather, who was a genteel, aristocratic gentleman, had the good luck to marry a woman who was a real firecracker. She jokingly referred to the Rothschild family as a crazy cult. Speaking to her husband, she made remarks like:

“…your cult’s had so much shock therapy that if they held hands, they could provide enough electricity to power New York City.”

Getting to know Matt’s grandmother through his eyes is an unforgettable trip you won’t want to miss.

Peppered throughout the memoir are other fascinating characters–Elaine, who once convinced him that since they spent so much money in FAO Schwartz they should be entitled to some free gifts, The Petty Thieves. His short association with a reclusive old woman living in his building, who hadn’t been seen by any of her neighbors in thirty years, Greta Garbo Lives Next Door, leaves you wistful, wishing he had time to find out more about her. And there was his third-grade teacher, Ms. Wood, who delighted in giving him D’s on his papers, which he hid from his grandparents until they were eventually found, All in the D’s. His grandmother didn’t pull any punches that day,

“Oh, Matthew, what the hell are these?” .

Although this book is written by a person who lived just steps away from the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue, you never get the impression that it’s from the perspective of a rich kid. If anything, you feel Matt didn’t even realize he was rich until he reached puberty. (That’s another amusing story to read about).

What makes this memoir beautiful is that it is honest, in spite of what Matt tells you in the Author’s Note. His writing is witty, sincere, unerringly compassionate, hilarious and totally entertaining. Pick up this book; it’s a memorable read.

[Goodnight, Mr. Newman. We loved you.]

DO NOT Keep a Diary

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About a week ago, I sent an email out to several friends asking them to share a favorite childhood memory with me. Many of those who replied were the same people who have been telling me they can’t write.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you know I strongly feel everyone should be writing something –anything– so that the only thing one leaves behind isn’t just ashes. What would be the point of your being here if that’s all you leave?

Don’t even think about keeping a diary. Because you probably won’t. However, having a notebook sitting on an end table, a pretty one with flowers or something on the cover, might be just the thing. If it’s there, maybe you’ll write in it once in a while. I guarantee someone from the future will thank you for it.

From time to time, I’ll show some of the responses I received to my question. The ones I’ve chosen to share today probably took a mere five minutes (if that) for the respondents to write.

Here’s one from Judy H. It’s only two sentences long, but it says a lot about how kids entertained themselves before computers, and about the lack of crime in our neighborhoods.

I think my favorite childhood memories were playing games in the street – like “giant step” and neighborhood games like “Cops and Robbers”. Those were the days when you could run around the neighborhood without being afraid.

This one is from Judy C. Again, very few sentences. This one is a whopping three sentences. Who knew before there were Good Humor trucks, there were Good Humor bikes?

Let’s, see, I think it would be when my grandfather was a VP with Good Humor. I used to visit the warehouse where all the Good Humor Ice Cream bicycles were kept and riding them around the warehouse, not to mention eating the Good Humor ice cream birthday cakes he used to have made for me. Wow, that was a looooooooooooonng time ago!!

It doesn’t get much more succinct than this from Denise O.

When my sister ;o) got me Tony the Pony
>Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox LOVE THAT TONY!!!

For the record, Denise is my sister and I bought the Tony the Pony for her birthday when she was four or five years old. Tony is a legend in our family. But who would know the story of Tony if we didn’t write about him?

Trust me, you need to buy yourself a notebook.

The Saga Of The Squirrels

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It was 7:00 a.m. I sat on the porch sipping tea when it happened. First, I heard the loud flutter of wings swooping to the ground, and then I saw the landing, It was a hawk gunning for two squirrels, who minutes before were running around the trunk of a tree, playing and squealing at each other. I expected them to scamper up the tree, but instead they stayed grounded. The hawk flew at them, but was unsuccessful. Flying close to the ground made it difficult for him to strike at the squirrels. They were too fast for him. After two attempts, the hawk gave up and flew away.

Here’s another Squirrel vs Hawk story. Again the squirrel outwits the hawk.

I am at my computer just now and a hawk landed in the oak outside the window. A squirrel was sitting on the next branch and it became Squirrel vs Hawk. The hawk eyed the rodent, the rodent hopped up to the branch the hawk was on. The hawk backed off, the squirrel returned to the lower branch. The hawk moved closer to the squirrel and the squirrel hopped back up to the hawk’s branch. The hawk spread its wing intimidatingly and the squirrel went back to his own branch. Finally the hawk gave up and flew to the fence and then into the other trees.

Hawks aren’t the squirrels’ only problem. Dogs love the pursuit, too. Check out Basil

Basil spots a squirrel behind a bench. Before I can know what’s happening, he jumps on the seat, then the edge of the bench’s back, from which he proceeds to jump off, in an attempt to follow the squirrel up the tree. Of course, he falls to the floor, from where he continues his chase.

This happens in less than 30 seconds. After the squirrel jumps to another tree, he resumes the walk as if nothing had happened.

It appears cats are a major problem for the poor squirrels, too. See Martannasmimi’s Weblog

Rocky fell from his home, a nest in a big tree. He was about to be attacked by a huge cat when Popa rescued him. Marta was amazed to see this tiny helpless little guy.

We called our local animal rescue person, a very nice woman who lives down the road . Jean is an older woman who has been taking in local injured wildlife for many years.

Some days are luckier than others.

“Auditions” by Barbara Walters

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Even before you read one word of Barbara’s book, you understand what a remarkable life she has led. Printed inside the front and back covers are the names of all the people she has interviewed–the famous and the infamous.

Reading about her childhood, with its constant ups and downs, was fascinating mainly because her father was the founder and owner of the Latin Quarter. Her mother was like any other kind and doting mother, except it appears she showered more attention on Barbara’s sister, Jackie, who was autistic. To her credit, Barbara admits to being jealous of that at times.

But the real reason I bought Barbara’s book had to do more with the loud, reverberating crash women heard when she smashed through the glass ceiling into a field that had always been a male bastion. She became the first female co-host of the Today morning show. In 1974, that was unprecedented. Then a couple of years later, the even louder boom–Barbara Walters became the first woman “ever” to anchor a network evening news program. Single-handedly, she turned the knob and opened the door for all the women who followed her. I will always admire her for that.

The book is a history book written in an entertaining format. Her in-depth interviews with personalities like: Katherine Hepburn, Audrey Hepburn, Anwar Sadat, Clint Eastwood, Oprah, Fidel Castro, Henry Kissinger, Elizabeth Taylor, Golda Meir, Margaret Thatcher and many others, including all of the Presidents the United States, while always revealing onscreen, are even more captivating on the pages of her book, where she discloses additional tidbits of information.

A good read! If you happened to live through it all with Barbara, even better.

Things My Mother Told Me

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My mother would say to me,”Don’t spray cologne on your neck.”

Here’s her rationale. The skin under your chin, the “front” of your neck, is thin, delicate skin. It is one of the first places where people show their age. Since the first ingredient in cologne is alcohol, this is NOT a good thing to spray on your neck year after year after year. Her advice–spritz a little to the “back” of your neck, your wrists and the inside of your elbows.

This was another of her favorites. “Is there any reason why you have to look in the mirror at yourself while you brush your teeth?”

At the time, this seemed a little peevish to me, but I wasn’t the one cleaning off the tiny specks of dried toothpaste off the mirror. I am now. I don’t look into the mirror while brushing anymore.

Here’s another. “Always make sure you have money in your purse.”

Notice she didn’t say a “dime” (which way back when, that’s how much it cost to make a phone call in case of an emergency). She meant “real” money. To this day, I never leave the house with less than $10.00. And I have experienced my share of little emergencies when I was glad I had that money with me. Especially one night after midnight, when I got a flat tire and a good samaritan stopped and changed it for me. I forced that $10.00 on him, he didn’t want to take it, but I had it to give, and at 1:00 a.m. in the morning, I wished it could’ve been more.

She had some kooky ones, too. “Always make your bed in the morning.”

This had to do with one of her many “what if” scenarios. What if you went to work and there was a fire, (The firemen would see my unmade bed?) or what if you forgot something at home and had to send someone to your house to fetch it for you. (They would look through my house mainly to see if my bed was made?) Believe me, she had several more freaky reasons why my bed should me made, but I think she just liked the idea of a home that was always in order. This was her way of scaring me into being orderly.

Evidently, she was not alone with this last piece of motherly advice. I have friends whose mothers told them the same thing. “Always wear clean underwear.”

I will spare you the “what if” scenarios that go along with this one.

Many people recall insightful advice they’ve received from a parent. The young mother over at Verlanderville remembers an admonition from her mother.

Growing up, my mother told us that we were not allowed to use the word hate for things like vegetables, songs, people, etc. She said that it was a very strong word and that we should only use it for things like sin, injustice, math, etc.

Clearly, dads can give good advice, too. See Mom & A Microphone

It was my 7-year-old’s first flag football game of the season. I was secretly dreading it, since my mother and father were always sitting on the sidelines at Griffin’s games, cheering him on. This year, Dad wouldn’t be there. Dad was Griffin’s biggest fan. Last season, when I expressed concern that I “wasn’t sure this was his strongest sport,” Dad told me, “be patient. He’ll get better with time.” And just like all the other advice my father has given me, he was right.

Makes you smile, doesn’t it?

6 Ways To Beat The Cost Of Groceries

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Don’t throw those leftover veggies in the garbage. Save them in a large container in the freezer. Keep adding to it. Leftover beef and chicken can be collected in the same container. Chop meat into cubes before adding. When the container is full, dump it into a pot of broth (chicken, beef or vegetable). Better still use some low-sodium bouillon cubes. It’s such a healthy meal, you don’t have to feel guilty about serving it with a big loaf of Italian or French bread.
Before you write a single word on your weekly menu-planning list, (You do make a list, don’t you?) check the refrigerator for leftovers. Use the leftovers. Be honest. How many times have you forgotten about them and ended up throwing them away? You will now vow to never to that again!
At the beginning of every week, make your menu list. What exactly are you planning to have for lunch and dinner during the coming week? You’ve already checked the frig, right? Now it’s time to look in the freezer. That’s your starting point. Build a meal around something you already have in the freezer. If it’s meat, all you’ll need are the veggies to go with it. If you have a bag of frozen veggies, decide what meat or fish you will prepare. Or be a vegetarian for a night.
While you decide what will be on your menu planner, you need to have a second list right alongside it. This list is your grocery list. (Maybe you already have one started. I tend to write things down as I use the last one during the week, i.e. eggs, milk, cereal) List everything you will need at the supermarket to complete the meals you are planning to prepare for the coming week. When you walk into the supermarket–stick to the list. You’ll be surprised how much money you’ll save when you enter the store armed with a plan.
If you shop once a week, try shopping every other week. Actually, someone told me to try this, but I didn’t think it would save me any money. Surprise, surprise. It did. I’m not sure how or why, because my bi-weekly shopping list was a whole lot longer than my weekly list, but at the end of the month, I had saved approximately $40.00. I am a family of one, so that’s pretty darn good. [Caution: If you try this, make sure you have enough food in the house to last for two weeks. That’s the tricky part.]
Finally, don’t forget about pasta. It’s inexpensive and filling. When I was growing up, Sunday was always Pasta Day. The beauty of Pasta Day is that there are all kinds of shapes and sizes of pasta to choose from, so it feels like a new meal every week. Switch it out every week: ziti, rigatoni, spaghetti, penne, to name a few. The added bonus–pasta is quick and easy to prepare. [Hint: After draining your pasta in a collander, do not rinse it with water. The outer layer of starch on the pasta is what makes the sauce stick to it. If you rinse–the sauce slides off.]

So, there you have it. Six suggestions–give them a try.

I’m open to any and all suggestions on saving money, so let me know if you have any.

Happiness Is A Walk In The Rain – Spontaneity

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image from

Last Saturday afternoon, as I was getting ready to walk home from my friend Bev’s house, the clouds shuddered and an unexpected shower of rain began pelting the windows. It sounded good to me. It sounded like bad timing to Bev.

Her immediate thoughts were: maybe I should wait until the rain stopped or slowed down, or I should, at least, borrow an umbrella, or…

But I was thinking, I couldn’t remember the last time I walked in the rain. So, I pooh, poohed the offer of an umbrella and ventured outside. It was a hot day. The rain felt cool. I noticed steam rising from the ground, as the earth drank its full. Huge drops of rain cascaded down from my head. There was no lightning, no thunder–a perfect day for a stroll. I looked up at the sky as I walked and drops of water splattered onto my face. By the time, I reached my front door, I was soaked to the skin. I stepped inside and dropped my clothes.

Spontaneity had surprised me and gifted me with a glorious, divine, magnificent interlude!

From the news stan(d)

Someone’s said that “spontaneity is the quality of being able to do something just because you feel like it at the moment, of trusting your instincts, of taking yourself by surprise…

You don’t think about being spontaneous, you just do it. It comes from within you to do what you like, how you like it and when you want it. It just happens – unplanned, unstructured and best of all, unexpected but still within your power to shape it.

The Cook Family seems to know how to be spontaneous.

The other day Dan got home from work just in time to catch the sun going down . The second he came through the door he said, “grab a blanket, we’re going on the roof.”

This idea tickled me – Manufactured Spontaneity

At Flax, the art supply store, you can buy a notebook with napkins instead of pages. Because so many great ideas started on a napkin. So. You should be ready with some napkins.

Spontaneity–it comes in all sizes.

What about you? Spontaneous or Well Planned Agenda?

2008 Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremony

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08/08/08 A propitious day in China, believed to bring prosperity, and to China’s utter delight, an opportunity to perform for the world–The Olympic Opening Ceremony.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved watching the Olympics. Of course, I enjoy the competitions, but I try real hard to see the Opening Ceremonies. Usually, they are extraordinary, spectacular extravaganzas. And this year, China did not disappoint. Their ceremony left me breathless at times, at other times awed by the precision of the 15,000 people who performed and created one of the most memorable Opening Ceremonies I have ever seen.

The Parade of Nations always makes my eyes water. The magnitude of so many countries coming together, despite their political differences, gives me hope for humanity. When the torch was finally lit, I was emotionally drained.

I’m not alone in my admiration for the spirit of the games. Fitness Diva also loved the Opening.

I hope that you all got to watch China present the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Beijing Olympics last night or this morning. I have to say, without a doubt, China ROCKED IT!!! I have watched all the Olympics since I was old enough to know what they were, and China’s incredibly spectacular display of pyrotechnics, performance, and purely awe inspiring displays was off the charts. Never has an opening ceremony been as monumentally opulent and magnificent.

See what I mean? When you love them, you really, really love them.

To see some marvelous photos, go to fash eccentric.

Enjoy.

Frances Ellen Speaks!

A little bit of this and that.