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Posts Tagged ‘Florida’

I know I have been amusing my readers with tales of trauma and drama in Florida, however we did have some good times too!  Of course we NEVER got to the beach and we DIDN’t go in the pool because somehow the days were filled with pre-planned activities as well as the daily chores of running a big household.  Not sure if the highlight of my trip was the fact that I did 3 loads of laundry in a washer and dryer that was right in the house! Yes I know that sounds silly to all of you who own homes but in NYC, washers/dryers in apartments is not all that common so it’s down to the laundry room trying to figure out when all the cleaning ladies won’t be there taking up all the machines.  I’ve become a late night washer lol.

We made cookies; Finley mixed all the dry ingredients and she blended the butter and brown sugar in a bowl and she cooked the caramel.  Francesca broke up the pretzels and eventually it came together to make Caramel Pretzel Bars.  BUT…somehow I had the wrong temperature on in the oven so the crust burnt, Chiara didn’t have a candy thermometer so I don’t think I ever cooked the caramel long enough or hot enough because it was soupy.  Frankie didn’t break up the pretzel rods small enough and we were supposed to use small twists which are significantly thinner and would break into odd size pieces – instead we had thick sticks that lined up like Lincoln Logs on the crust.

Look Mommy, Gigi lets me sit near the open flame!

Look Mommy, Gigi lets me sit near the open flame!

I'm cooking the caramel

I’m cooking the caramel

And we had quiet time too…

Quiet time in the kitchen

Quiet time in the kitchen

I got stickers!

I got stickers!

And we went to a great Easter Egg Hunt and event at the Delray Beach Historical Society. It was a gorgeous day and the ladies had done a spectacular job creating and coordinating the events. There were T-shirts you could design, sticker puzzles, carrot baseball and carrot golf (don’t ask) the egg hunt and a big pinata for the kids to try to break open. A table was set with tiers of mouth-watering shortcake cookies and mini-cupcakes and they served Arnold Palmer‘s (iced tea and lemonade). Chiara told me to dress the girls in their elephant dresses;  She had bought them matching dresses in Thailand last year and they were the HIT of the event. I don’t think there was one person there who didn’t come up to me and remark about how cute the girls looked in their dresses and how adorable the dresses were and where did they come from.

Finley Ray (4 years old) knocked the pinata off the tree! She also got the most eggs in her age group but the prize only went to the girl who found the Golden Egg!  No matter, when we got home and emptied out the two bags of plastic eggs, each one contained candy! Wow just what we needed!

Batter up

Batter up

Francesca and the Hula Hoop

Francesca and the Hula Hoop

Whack that egg!

Whack that egg!

They do look adorable don’t they?

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I’m writing this as fast as I can BEFORE the pain-killing lidocaine numbing effect on my left foot wears off!!!!  Sometimes I like to give you the climax of the story right up front…to get your attention kind of like baiting the hook.

And of course there’s more to the story.

This day actually started last night when I called Chiara’s neighbor, Christina to confirm what time she was going to pick up Finley to go to gymnastics camp. OHhhhh didn’t I mention that I was in Florida?  Well, if you’ve been following this blog, you know that no trip to Florida goes unscathed, so to speak.  So…back to the phone call.  Before Ms Organization left for a mini-vacation on a friend’s 4 bedroom yacht in Barbados (oh yes she lives well), Chiara wrote out the kids daily schedule.  The calendar said, camp was from 9am-12pm, and if I wanted  she could stay for the afternoon session, 2pm-3pm.  Christina said camp began at 8:30am and Matte was driving. So then I called Matte to ask her at what time should I have Finley ready.  Matte said 8:45am and she would bring Finley back at 12:30.

I was picking up stray puzzle pieces and random markers in the kitchen when all of sudden I felt this stab in my foot. Damn, I had stepped on something. It felt sharp but then almost anything you step on feels sharper and larger than what it turn out to be.  I tried to look at my foot but a)they were dirty from walking barefoot all day inside and out, and I didn’t have my glasses on.  Peering closer, I could discern as spot and what looked like a tiny piece of skin.  I thought it was like one of those cuts you can sometime get on the sole of your foot where the part that hurts is the little flap of tissue so I yanked it off.  Now my foot hurt because it had a little tiny opening in it, so I put some neosporin on it and a Dora the Explorer band-aid.  Two hours later it still really hurt when I walked on it.

When we got into bed, I told Peter about the incident (he had been out at the time) and said the damn thing hurt much more than it should given what I thought it was.  He looked closely (and yes I did wash my feet before getting into bed) and said, “You have a piece of glass in your foot”.  Forty-five minutes later I called off Peter’s intense mission to remove the sliver.  He denies it, but part of him was loving the task of trying to figure out how to extricate the shard.  Tomorrow is another day, maybe in the morning it will be easier. Oh WRONGGG!

It hurt a lot going down the stairs and I was hobbling in the kitchen trying to get Finley fed, Francesca fed and Finny out the door.  I asked Peter to get me a ponytail rubber band for Finley’s hair -it was upstairs in the top drawer in the kids bathroom.  He returned with a length of orange ribbon. Muttering several four letter words and poly-syllabic names at him, I went upstairs, opened the drawer, saw two little sating top boxes, opened one, took out the colored band and limped down the stairs, cursing all the way.

After Finley left for camp, Peter thought we should try again to get the glass out of my foot and to do so we should be in the bright sunshine. Francesca, Pete and I went in the backyard and sat down.  During the night, a brainstorm came to him, he would use a razor to slice the skin and sort of release the sliver so it could be easily  pulled out. I wasn’t exactly enamored with this idea and for the last half hour kept saying that I was going to go to a Walk-in Docs and see if they could do it.  Well I let him make several attempts to grab the piece but I know that tweezers cant’t really hold the grasp on a piece of glass. After a couple of OMG’s and Owwwwwws, I  knew this wasn’t going to work at all and went in the house where I immediately opened up my computer and went online to find a Walk-In Urgent Care facility.  I called, checked if they took Medicare (who am I kidding, this IS Florida) and said I would be in shortly.

Leaving the house with Frankie requires several things; she has to get dressed, she has to wear shoes, we have to pick out at least 3 books and we have to pack a snack to take along.  We are headed to Dr.G’s Urgent Care;  Peter is convinced we will spend hours there waiting to be taken I’m convinced I’ll be in and out because after all it is only a sliver. Turns out we were both right.

After filling out 5 pages of forms and signing my name at least 7 times and giving them my Medicare card and my Master card, because apparently this is a pay first before you get treatment place.  I thought that was a little strange, I mean after all, even doctors in New York City don’t make you pay before they treat you. But then again, this IS Florida and just maybe do you think they’re afraid the patient might expire before the bill was paid if it was sent in the mail?

In I go to Room #4 where soon a person comes in to ask me what medications I take – the fact that he asked me how to spell two of them was a little disconcerting.  Then he takes my blood pressure, my temperature and my pulse rate AND then he says I need to have an X-Ray. “An X-Ray”!?, I say, “I have a sliver, I can see it on my foot”. With that he walks out.  I sit and wait (we have been here at least 45 minutes). In walks a woman (not quite dressed like a doctor). She asks me some redundant questions and announces I MUST have an X-Ray pre and post because there is a foreign body in my body, and she leaves.  I sit and wait.  Along comes Ben who brings me a wheelchair and takes me to X-Ray.  Three pictures of my foot and I am back in Room #4.  Ben returns with a basin filled with brown liquid which I believe to be part Benzocaine, because I need to soak my foot and soften it up. Then he realizes that Room #4 is too small so back into the wheelchair and he deposits me in Room #2 and I soak my foot.

Tracey (the non-doctor, she is a PA) arrives shortly thereafter and wants to know how did I get the glass in my foot, how long has it been in and she’s seen the X-Ray and the sliver is really in there!!!!  I tell her how my husband wanted to try to slice open my foot and release the sliver and I shudder – She says, “How do you think I’m going to do it? I have a scalpel”.  After swallowing hard, I say, “But at least you’re going to make sure it doesn’t hurt”.  And then Tracey, aka Nurse Rachet, produces a hypodermic syringe  and says,”You’ll feel a little pinch” and proceeds to stab my foot.  I SCREAMED! Yes, I SCREAMED,” OWWWWwwww, oh my God”! Tears sprang to my eyes and I jerked my foot away.  This totally annoyed Tracey who asked me if I wanted her to slice open my foot without anesthetic?  I hesitated because there was no way I could imagine allowing her to jab me again and push in some burning liquid which I think was pure lidocaine.  She sat, needle in hand, awaiting my answer.  I said OK but and before I got any other words out the needle was in but this time it was only a pinch.  My interruption of the procedure had allowed some numbing take place so the second jab was only a pinch. Thank God!!!

She has an array of tools beside her; scalpel, several tweezer and other pointy things. She asks me if I feel that and I say no. The next thing I know she is yelling for Brian to come in and bring her an Eppi – an Eppi? That sounds familiar, thank you Grey’s Anatomy.  She can’t believe how much blood is coming out of my foot and wants to know if I’m on blood thinners or aspirin. NO, I’m not. She can’t see the glass because of the blood and the Eppi will stop it and sure enough it does.   More probing and finally a tiny piece of glass comes out.  Time for a post X-Ray.  She bandages my foot and I’m back in the wheelchair with Ben and off for two more pictures.

BAD NEWS! Tracey says there is still a good size piece in my foot. She asks for another lidocaine/eppi syringe.  Brian questions the combination but she says she thinks it works better that way.  I am sitting in this chair worrying about the time because by now it is 12:30 and Finley was going to be dropped off at home.  Luckily with some measure of aforethought, I called Christina (because Matte didn’t pick up her phone) earlier and asked her if she could get a hold of Matte and ask her to keep Finley if I wasn’t back from the clinic.  By now, Tracey is calling for help to hold open the incision (OMG!) so she can see better into the tunnel where she believes the rest of the glass is. Now she’s asking for saline and a syringe because she thinks she can flush it out.  After a while and  she is convinced she got another piece, she calls for Ben to take another set of X-Rays of the foot to make sure she got it all. Back in the chair and same old, same old all over again. It’s now after 1pm and I’m very concerned about both Finny who is with Matte who might have had plans for her own family and Francesca who has been out in the waiting room for over an hour. I ask one of the nurses to go ask my husband for my cell phone and glasses. What comes back to me is my cell phone and my sun glasses! OY VEY. I thought I might have Matte’s telephone number on my cell but I don’t so I did what I had to do and called Chiara in Barbados on the 4 BR yacht – did I mention she lives well? I explain to her where I am and why and she should call Matte and hope Finley can stay there till I return. Things are getting worse…

I’ve been wheeled back to Room #2 to await the development of the X-Rays number 6 and 7.  I can hear them talking in the hallway and as I hear Tracey say to Ben, “How can that be? Well at least it’s less than it was”.  My heart sank, I knew what was coming.  Sure enough, she’s back and giving me a song and dance about how she was sure she got another piece out, BUT the X-Ray showed that there was still a piece in my foot. Oh dear Lord…

At this point since she is now saying what she really needs is yet another pair of hands to hold open the incision and she is going in again, I ask her if the numbing is still in effect and just to make sure, she calls for another lidocaine/eppi cocktail.  Now there is serious flushing going on and another person with tweezers says she doesn’t feel anything (and thank God I’m not feeling anything either). Perhaps the tiny piece is in the third bloody basin. Encouragingly, Tracey announces that it looks like someone committed Hari-Cari in here! Geez did that ever make me feel good!!!! She calls for another set of X-Rays. Ben and I make our trip to the X-Ray room again where I put my foot on the table for numbers 8 and 9.  Really I will probably glow in the dark tonight. It’s pushing 3:00 and now that I have my phone I call Peter in the waiting room and suggest he take Frankie to MacDonald’s.  He’s resistant and I’m not sure why he is suggesting home but after about a minute of back and forth I give my usual blessing which goes like this: “Do whatever the f__k you want to do” and hang up.

I sit in Room #2 and wait and wait but I have lost all hope of ever leaving this place alive or at least in one piece.  Again I hear voices in the hallway and what I’m hearing only confirms that things are getting worse.  Tracey returns with a cadre of helpers and with the determination of General Custer decides to make another charge at the foot. Although she’s convinced she actually got  a piece and it is floating in the kidney-shaped basin, her two cohorts feel otherwise.  I thought it a good idea to remind her that glass doesn’t float and when one of them said that what she saw was tissue, I began to think about making out a will.

Nothing convinces Tracey like an X-Ray so she tells Ben to take another just to confirm that she got the piece.  Are you beginning to see a pattern here? Meantime Chiara calls me while I’m in the torture chamber and tells me not to worry about Finley, she’s fine and can stay as long as it takes.  X-Ray number 10 is taken, this time only one because Ben the technician has decided to defy the boss because he thinks I’ve probably had enough radiation for one day, ya think???

Number 10 like all the other preceding it confirmed  that STILL the sliver of glass remained intact and inside.  Tracey came in and threw up her hands and said,”I’m done”.  Mmmmmm here I am with an open bleeding incision, a piece of glass in my heel still, a 4 yr old in the care of others, a 2yr old and a husband wandering around Boynton Beach looking for a MacDonald’s and it’s after 3pm and SHE’s giving up??!!!  They left the room and left me sitting there wondering if someone would come back to bandage up my foot so I could…what? leave?

And then, she came back.  Tracey had decided to call in the big guns to do battle with the glass sliver.  She informed me that the “Doctor” was on the way, be here in 5 minutes.  Of course the 5 minutes was actually about 15 minutes before the “doctor” walked in.  She was given a briefing on the various procedures that failed to remove the splinter, she looked at the X-Rays and turned to Tracey and said, “You never cut deep enough”.  OMG not deep enough? She smiled at me and said I’m going to numb your foot and see what I can see. Oh and she also handed me the big lie, “you’ll feel a pinch”.  Of course I felt nothing because my foot had already been shot up a few times. She noticed that I didn’t scream or anything and since she knew the “pinch” was a BIG lie, she asked me if I felt the needle and I smiled and said “No” and added words to the effect that had this foot not been numb I would have been hitting my head on the ceiling about now.  Tracey concurred that the original “pinch” had produced a howling OWwww.

Doctor orders her instruments of torture, a syringe, saline, tweezers, and mercifully no scalpel because she did think perhaps the cutting was deep enough after all.  She squeezed enough saline in that hole in my foot that I began to wonder where does that all go? Some comes out of course and blood-red but…….?  Doctor made an executive decision and said that the sliver was too small to feel in there so best solution would be to see a podiatrist who could use a fluoroscope  to see where he should probe while he was actually probing.  Of course I was NEVER again going to allow a syringe of lidocaine to be jabbed into my foot, but they didn’t know that. I said I was going home on Monday and had my own podiatrist.  BUT just to make sure the sliver really was still there, I should have another X-Ray! Can you believe this? Even Ben was getting anxious about the number of X-Rays he had administered to me that day.  When I was in the room with him (and by the way I’m still wheelchair bound) he told me to wait and he would develop it right away and I could see for myself – and sure enough there it was, lodged into my heel and holding on for dear life.

Doctor said to give me the first and last X-Rays to take and strongly insisted that I take antibiotics and  anti-inflammatory/pain killers.  OK I agreed, anything to get out of there as it was now 4pm! And it’s possible that the body will reject the foreign body in due time, I was told. Umm I wonder what due time really means?  I made some remark about the 4+ hours I had been there and Doctor, who turned out to be Dr. G’s daughter was clearly disturbed and annoyed.  She had already chastised Tracey for using too much of the special tape, for wasting a needle, and she told Brian he had wasted a syringe by opening it up to contamination before giving it to her and also said something about the number of basins that had been used!  Clearly business and not medicine was the first priority here.

By the time I got the prescriptions – You HAD to know that Dr. G also ran a pharmacy? You’re not surprised, are you? I wasn’t but oh well the prices didn’t seem to out of line but what do I know, I’m hobbling again and have an Ace bandage wrapped around my foot and a piece of glass in my heel.  I was so shaken at this point that as soon as I got in the car, I started to cry and don’t you know within 30 seconds Chiara called (from the yacht in Barbados in case you forgot).  She already knew about the glass but didn’t know why I was crying! Really?? Seriously??

Now while all this was happening  to me, Francesca and Papa Pete spent 4 hours of quality time together! She never cried, she was happy to have him all to herself and she amused herself to no end. 

This was one strange day and NOT so Good Friday!

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

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"I love flamingos too"

“I love flamingos too”

It’s been quite a while since I posted a photo of my little Finny.  My daughter, Chiara, sent this to me today and of course it not only made me smile, it made me miss that little cutie even more.  Anyway, what is the significance of Finley and flamingos? Well if you recall a blog post way back when…in the category of Peter Coddles* then you know that I LOVE Flamingos. In fact I have a collection of flamingos and here is the link to the blog post I did featuring some of my collection:

 https://pbenjay.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/queen-of-kitsch-a-brief-history-of-the-plastic-pink-flamingo/

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When my daughter and her husband moved to Florida at the beginning of this year, I was devastated.  Well actually I still am because I miss my little Finny so much.  I enjoyed having them nearby even though I didn’t see all that much of them, they were still close , and often I would pick Finley up from school or take her there.  

My husband and I took her to the Metropolitan Museum and were looking forward to immersing this bright little girl into the culture that’s so readily available in The City. Alas, she’s gone to Florida and is now taking tennis lessons and learning Spanish.  She was just getting to the age where the adventures were about to begin.  Finley is intelligent and curious and very observant so any little outing with her was exciting. 

Her parents certainly exposed her to the theater while in NYC and took her to the many child-centered events held in Manhattan.  She went to see Mary Poppins, Annie and shows like Pinkalicious and some show where the performer created monster bubbles.  There were more too. We went to the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Show together every year since she was two!  I even made her a hat to wear in the Easter Parade! Her other grandparents took her to the Empire State building and other wonderful sites in the City.

I knew that if we went to the Village she would find it fascinating or Chinatown….so many places, so much to see and now she’s gone.  I’m hoping we can bring her to New York for a week sometime soon and keep the City alive for her and not have it become a distant childhood memory.

And where is all this leading up to?  Well actually I didn’t sit down to write a lament about how much I miss Finley Ray, it sort of just came out on the keys.  Chiara, my daughter, sent me a photo yesterday and it prompted me to want to muse about life after New York City – See for yourself!!!

Image

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English: Logo of Target, US-based retail chain

English: Logo of Target, US-based retail chain (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The store that is!  There’s just something about  the allure of big box stores.  Give a woman with a new house to set up and a car to get around and sure enough the GPS has found Target, Walmart, Home Goods, Pet Supermarket and Lowes

By midweek, the house is really shaping up and the only problem is each room that we tackle ends up needing something she doesn’t have or needs to be replaced.  So we set off for Target pronounced Tar-zhay when you want to pretend you’re shopping on Madison Avenue in Manhattan instead of a strip mall in Florida!  And this was no ordinary run-of-the-mill Target store.  NO, this was a SUPER TARGET.  Really it was like a Mall unto itself. And one of the best things about it was that there was a Starhucks cafe inside it.  Nothing like that extra shot to get you moving down those aisles.  Fortified finally with a Grande Americano I’m ready to roll.  I say finally because unlike my home in New York City where I can walk across the street and get my morning fix, here you have to really be dressed and get in the car and drive into the commercial district of Delray Beach to get to a Starbucks.  AH, but who knew that
Target was on target when it came to keeping the shoppers in the store and fueled to buy nonetheless.

Of course we have two carts because one of them is for bouncy bouncy child and one for the loot.  This store is SO BIG that Chiara gives me some of the items to locate and she goes off in another direction. She needs an ironing board, they don’t have any! Really!  She needs a small dish drying rack, like my sleek stainless steel one.  They don’t have any. She needs a few good knives, they only carry one line and they weren’t very good.  I have to continually return to her and report in what I have found that might replace what she really wanted, which of course she doesn’t so I have to return it to its appropriate aisle.  Mind you the store is ginormous and I’m not saying Francesca was crying…but let’s just say I dnn’t have any problem locating them – I have a good ear!!

Frankie always starts out in the carriage, even buckled in, but sometime between the “I hold it”  and “I’m cold” she is out of the buckled seat and into the basket itself.  This neccessitates cargo transference as 4 boxes of padded hangers and a toaster oven go into my basket which heretofore held only a small bottle of eye makeup remover and tinted moisturizer.  Now I’m hauling Vitamin water, Pampers Pull-Ups, and other assorted sundries.

The sun was extremely intense that day and believe it or not, with all the things I did pack to go to Florida, I forgot my sunglasses.  I knew I had to buy a pair today because I could hardly keep my eyes open in the car.  I ask a store clerk where they are and by the time she finished giving me directions, I knew the last sentence was going to be “….Turn right at the second star and straight on till morning”.  The sun glasses were truly at the opposite end of the store and it so happens that children’s shoes were there  too.  As I met up with Chiara I note that Frankie is no longer is the basket, she is now on the loose.  Francesca is a climber, a runner and a mischief with a mind of her own.  In other words she is TWO.  Chiara wants to go get something so couldn’t I just keep an eye on her for a minute? Well I could if I could spin my neck around 360 degrees!  She is moving at the speed of sound between the aisles and trying to keep her in one place while maneuvering my cargo barge on wheels and carrying a handbag is not an easy feat. For a while I had her amusing herself with the brightly-colored wristwatches but she was able to grasp them and soon she was trying to buckle a lime green Swatch-like watch to her arm all the while repeating, “Frankie’s watch”.

After the watches we moved on to Jewelry and the rows of dangling beaded necklaces were soon the source of a color-identifying lesson. Some she would lightly touch and say the color, otherls like silver and gold she looked to me for an answer.  She is so funny because of course she wants (and often does) touch everything but when you say to her, “Don’t touch”, she looks at you and holds both hands up in front of her with palms facing outward and says, “Just see”.  It is so cute, I can’t stand it.

By this time I am really wishing Chiara would return.  Frankie ran off so fast and into a main aisle, that in order to catch her, I had to abandon the cart with my handbag in it, so I could catch her and bring her back. Just as Chiara returned, Francesca removed her shoes and proceeded to walk around barefoot.  She was cruising down the center aisle with no shoes and Chiara and I were following her.  I turned to my daughter and said something to the effect that I found it rather interesting that she yelled at Tom and me for walking into the playroom with our shoes and here her daughter was walking barefoot in a public store, for God’s sake and let’s not forget that while the other one is in nursery school eating an organic  lunch, Frankie wolfed down a box of 4 chocolate truffles and wouldn’t even give me a bite. Oh how much easier life is for child number

two.   I reminded her that it was I who bought the lollipops about an hour ago but regardless she wasn’t sharing.  

Sticky fingers and all we headed for the check out counter.  We still had time to hit Walmart before Finley got home from school!

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Sunday – But I asked for a late checkout till 1pm so I could be at the house and the last big push was on to get the girls rooms done.  Finley and Francesca were still at The Breakers (ordering up room service no doubt) with Martini (yes that is her name) , one of the hotel’s Nannies.  Moving is upsetting to everyone and Chiara wanted them to come to their new house and be able to see their rooms all set up.  I think I was still working on the kitchen trying to figure out what dishes to put in what cabinet.  I have this organization thing about kitchens and I’m trying to lay it out the way I probably learned in Home Economics class lol.  

This IS a Martha Stewart closet!

This IS a Martha Stewart closet!

Tom was setting up his office and playing music way too loud! So loud that we had to scream his name to turn it down a couple of times because we couldn’t communicate at all on the second floor.  At this point I decided to re-do the linen closet.  This is where OCD comes into play and usually someone benefits.  On Saturday Tom hired his assistant from work and her daughter to help us unpack boxes and put stuff away.  At one point in the afternoon I  saw both the mother and daughter sitting on the floor folding sheets and towels and putting them in the linen closet.  I looked at the closet on Sunday morning and knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep IF I didn’t re-fold the towels and sheets and blankets.  Luckily for me (and for her), Chiara agreed that the closet didn’t look good. Tom came by and saw me pulling stuff out and refolding and remarked that the daughter had done the closet and then the mother said it was wrong and they re-did it. NOW I was doing it again-so many man hours, it’s a good thing this isn’t a Union job!  Martha, on the other hand would be perfectly pleased as the closet was now a work of art if I do say so myself!

And speaking of communication…Tom took me back to my hotel to get the cat and check out.  On the way he wondered out loud if Chiara had packed the champagne they had gotten as a gift at the Policeman’s Ball. I  texted her and the instant reply was “Shit no you better call The Breakers right away”.  Not having  both feet firmly planted in the 21st Century nor having the money to spend on one, I don’t have an iPhone but at least I had my Droid and internet access.  So I look up The Breakers on Google or rather I try to look it up. Have you ever tried to see your screen in the bright Florida sunshine?  I swear I scrolled all over what came up on mobile and THERE WAS NO CONTACT US link to be found.  OK so I called the reservation desk and spoke to someone who after I explained the situation, said she would connect me to the front desk. FIVE full minutes later I hung up the phone and spent another five squinting and twisting myself every which way in the seat to find a spot where I actually could see the screen.  I called another number also connected to a site proclaiming, of course, reservations.  After I went through my spiel that the Clarks had checked out but had forgotten a very expensive bottle of champagne in the room, I was informed I would need to call the actual hotel they were just for reservations and were off-site. Geez!

On the phone again to the original reservation clerk, I tell her that she left me on hold so I hung up.  She explained she was trying to get someone at the front desk. Rachel (her name) said the room had been cleaned and no one reported finding anything.  I told her someone had to have seen the bottle there.  She then mentions things  left behind like a bottle could be considered trash by the cleaning staff.  I’m hot, tired and sitting in a car in the sunshine while my son-in-law buys some lunch so I very loudly say to Rachel, “NO ONE would see this bottle and throw it out!  If they don’t have it someone does”.  Ok, ok, she is going to get a hold of the front desk.  Tom returns and since this is his thingI give him my phone, put on speaker and tell him what she has said so far. Apparently, the Clarks did not actually check out but since check out is 12 noon and the hotel has the card number, they WERE checked out. And we are being told that there was an open bottle of champagne but that was trashed”.  Well, this one was not opened and it cost $1000!  Visibly or rather audibly  Rachel is struggling to make some sense of something that is not her problem because she is just a reservation clerk but trying hard to help.  She comes back on the line and says, “Good News, they have the bottle and they are holding it at the security desk for you”. Ah great all is well……..

Fast forward to about 4pm and I tell Tom he better go get the girls because it will be dark soon and they have yet to see their new house and they have to eat and bathe because Finley starts school tomorrow at 8am!  Off he goes BUT he stops at Lowes first and I have no idea where it was or how far it was BUT both Clarks use their GPS to find their way to the Post Office, Starbucks or Sears Roebuck!  THEN he went to the hotel and called me to say that now he was being told that they did not have the bottle.  Ridiculous! Fortunately I remembered who we had spoken to-Rachel who of course by now was nowhere to be found.  It is 6:45pm and the girls are still at the hotel as is Tom but not the champagne. “COME HOME”! he is loudly directed by his wife.  For God’s sake those kids have to eat.  

EAT? There’s no food in the house, Chiara didn’t go to the grocery store because she wanted to be home when the girls arrived and take their pictures.  Delivery Dudes again!  Needless to say it was pitch black when they arrived, best laid plans blah blah blah,

Did I mention that we have been cleaning the house every day since Saturday?  Well the very expensive Dyson vacuum cleaner wasn’t working (didn’t she know that before she had it packed?), the Swifter box was rapidly depleting as I discarded one black cloth after another and then one black wet Swifter pad after another. Tom returned not with the champagne but with a new Dyson but by that time we were too exhausted to open the box!  We were all Blackfoot Indians and everyone knew they had to wash their feet before getting into bed or collapsing on the bed, whichever came first! 

Sweet dreams Finley, BIG day tomorrow at your new school.  What kind of nursery school starts at 8am and ends at 2:20pm?  The private kind, the uniform kind.  

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English: Corner view, Marine Air Terminal, LaG...

English: Corner view, Marine Air Terminal, LaGuardia Airport, New York (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Finally, quiet and at peace, sitting on the hotel bed watching the News.  If you’ve never watched the News in Florida, you don’t know what you’re missing! Every car crash, kidnapping, murder, robbery, hate crime and jaywalking is reported in glowing terms, vivid color and dramatic overtones.  Ahhhh

Of course I digress, what I learned today at LGA – LaGuardia Airport to those of you who do not live in New York.  It all began a few weeks ago when my daughter informed that she and family were spending the holidays in San Diego with her brother.  Not having them around for Christmas was a bummer but to top it off, she said they would fly from San Diego directly to their new home in Florida!  The movers would come on the 19th and 20th and empty the apartment and they would spend two nights in a hotel before they took off on the 23rd for San Diego and they would arrive in Florida on January 2nd.  “OH” I said.  “What will you do with the cat?”, I wondered.  “THE CAT” “OMG”, she shrieked.  Did she think she could leave the cat in an empty apartment for 12 days?  Someone could come in and feed it? GEEZ I hope not.  Mom to the rescue-I said I would find someone to take the cat and I would bring  Pasha (the cat) to Florida with me when I went to help her set up her new household.

Just a bit more digression….I found someone who said yes they would and my daughter was going to pay the person and of course provide for all of the cat’s needs and since he was de-clawed, he hopefully would be easy to house.  TWO days before the woman was to take the cat, she knocked on our door and said she couldn’t and Peter didn’t tell until about midnight.  OMG now what??  I literally had one day to find the cat a home before it spent a night in a vacant apartment.  Mind you this is a Siamese who talks and I could only imagine how his yowling would echo through the empty rooms.  YES we found a second willing soul to keep the cat.  Poor Pasha saw all the furniture in his house dragged out by strangers, then his mother put him a cat carrier (not his) and brought to my apartment where he sat cowering in the crate while my two resident cats hissed and stared at the intruder.  Then he went to his foster home where he had never been and with people he never saw or smelled before!

Fast forward to today;  I had called the cat keeper last night and said I had to pick him up at 12:30pm.  She informed me that she wouldn’t be there, but her Dad would.  I asked her if she would make sure he was there, “yes’ she said. What do you think?  NO ONE was home at 12:30!  Frantic phone calls and 1/2 hour later, we were able to scoop him up, shove him in sherpa bag and hail a cab to catch a 2:30 flight.

 Lesson One-Check and then double-double check that everyone is on the same page about the time.  Also I specified that all of the equipment and supplies could be tossed or donated but instead they were piled outside the door!

Lesson Two – Always check (somehow) which terminal your flight departs.  Apparently Delta has 3 terminals at LaGuardia!  We instruct our cab driver to go to Terminal D.  Upon entering the terminal I am SHOCKED! There are hundreds of people in line to check in AND I have to check in because I have two suitcases to check and a live cat with me.  I feel myself getting warm because although I’m headed to Florida, I am still in NYC and so I have a couple of layers on and carrying two MAC computers, a handbag loaded with stuff including a Kindle and a 12 1/2 lb. cat in the other. I had no idea where to go and thank God, I literally blocked the path of one of those airline facilitators who wander around the perimeter of the roped off line area.  He noted I was traveling with a friend as he referred to the red bag hanging from my right hand.  Oh so I can go to Special Services check in and he tells me to follow him as he leads me to a line that is miniscule but then he inquires as to where I’m going.  West Palm?  Oh well in that case, I should go back out and get into the blue bus and it will take me to Terminal C!  Not to worry, he says, plenty of time as I protest that the cat has to be checked in as well as baggage.

Lesson Three – Not a good idea to attempt to go through security with TWO computers, a handbag, a blazer, running shoes, a computer case AND a live cat who most apparently was NOT given the holistic calming tidbit in the morning as instructed ALONE! I methodically filled 3 bins and was inching the cat in the bag towards the X-ray machine.  I was waved over to a metal detector arch and told to remove the cat from the bag.  Easier said than done as Pasha had decided it was safer to stay in this cosy bag than to come out into a huge space filled with hundreds of people and SO MANY smells-NOT.  Hissing at me I yanked him out and reluctantly went to the metal detector.  Reluctantly because now I have lost sight of both computer and my handbag.  Pasha and I sailed through BUT then were told to wait here.  WAIT, is she crazy? The cat is squirming and wiggling and twisting and turning and trying to jump out of my arms as I stand there barefoot struggling to hold onto him. I announce I cannot stand here because he is going to jump and run.  I was lucky, a kind TCA agent took pity on me and called me over to a cubicle and snatched Pasha’s bag off the rollers and I put him in.  Now why was I in this cubicle? Because she had to do my hands!  I had no idea what she meant as she swabbed my hands with some pad.  I asked if this was some random thing but no, anyone bringing a live pet with them has this done to them because they are checking for residue.

Lesson Four – Make sure you look at BOTH sides of your Boarding Pass so you can find out what gate your headed to instead of walking in the wrong direction while carrying two MAC computers, a handbag and a cat while wearing a cashmere sweater under a wool blazer and a silk scarf around your neck.

Lesson Five – Do NOT attempt to administer sedative pill to cat who is already quite disturbed, just before boarding. The instructions are to give the cat the pill at least 45 minutes prior to boarding.  By the time I got to the right gate most everyone was already on board.  I realized the futility of my attempt and so I went up to the desk to get on the plane. Thank God it was cool in the jetway.

An aerial view of LaGuardia Airport

An aerial view of LaGuardia Airport (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lesson Six – Smile and be charming to your seat mate while the non-sedated cat continue to thrash around and cry.  Have you ever hear a Siamese cry?  They sound just like a baby and don’t we all love to  be on a plane with a crying baby?  Irwin was a delightful seat mate and LUCKILY no one was seated in the middle so with his agreement I moved Pasha up to the seat once we were in the air.

Lesson Seven – Once you realize that the cat is NOT going to settle down, muster up your courage and stick you hand down the cat’s throat and drop the sedative down his gullet!  Then hold his mouth shut so that he’s forced to swallow it and then once you have wiped the sweat off your forehead, order a cold drink from the Flight Attendent!

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Happy Birthday to You!

Happy Birthday to You!

Could it really be forty-one years ago that I drove myself from my home in Avon CT to Hartford for a doctor’s appointment and then to St. Francis Hospital?  Apparently yes, because today is my son Joel’s birthday!  When my parents and grandparents would tell me how quickly the years go by  and at this point they’re flying, I, like every other young person ,didn’t really get it.  Well I get it now.  Joel is 41 and Chiara is 35 and now I’m a grandmother myself.

Last year I wrote what I thought was akin to a mother-son love letter so I’m not going to repeat it again. All of it is true and I hope he reads it again because it is full of love and appreciation for who he is.  Posted last December 17th, Happy Birthday Dear Son!

3000 miles and 3 hours earlier often gets in the way of communication although as any mother knows, if there’s a will, there’s a way.  This Christmas, like last year,  my daughter and her family are headed west to spend the holidays with Joel and we will be here on the East Coast. I think it would be wonderful if we could all be together, however, my feeling is that the kids like it the way it is.  I have a Norman Rockwell Christmas in mind and they are thinking along the lines of what I heard referred to as Westivus.  Apparently, some friends from Boston are also flying out to celebrate with them.

I hope today has been joyful for Joel.  I wrote a Happy Birthday greeting on his Facebook wall – aren’t I just the 21st Century Mom and called him this evening.  I hope to see him in the near future to give him the real hug I sent virtually.

So Happy happy birthday Joel, I love you very much and wish I could spend more time with you.

Love,

Mom

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English: Potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions and ...

Sweet potatoes, onions and garlic

This is the last of the BEST Thanksgiving Side Dishes because tomorrow I will be preparing the foods I’m bringing to our dinner.  I made this dish one Thanksgiving spent at my parents house when they lived in Florida.  Trust me, it is yummy.

ROASTED SWEET POTATOES and ONIONS with ROSEMARY & PARMESAN

2  3/4 lb sweet potatoes, peeled, cut in 1 ” cubes

8 TBS Canola oil

3 garlic cloves minced

2  1/2 tsp salt

1  1/2 tsp coarsely ground black pepper

1  1/2 lb red onions (3 medium), halved lengthwise, cut crosswise in 1/4 ” slices

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1 TBS chopped fresh parsley

Set on rack in center oven and one on lowest position.- preheat oven 375 degrees

Line 2 large baking sheets with foil.  Place sweet potatoes on one; drizzle with 6 TBS oil.  Sprinkle with garlic, 1  1/2 tsp salt and 1 tsp pepper.  Toss to coat, then spread in single layer.

Place onions on second baking sheet, drizzle with 2 remaining TBS oil, sprinkle with remaining salt and pepper.  Toss to coat, spread in single layer.  Place potatoes on center rack and onions on lower. Roast until potatoes are tender and onions are tender and brown around edges, stirring every 10 minutes, about 30 minutes total for potatoes and 35 minutes for onions.

Can be prepared 4 hours ahead of time, let stand at room temperature, covered loosely with foil.  Rewarm in 375 degree oven about 10 minutes.  Combine potatoes and onions in shallow bowl.  Sprinkle with Parmensan cheese and rosemary and toss to coat.  Season with salt and pepper.

Recipe from Martha Stewart Whole Living

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!

 

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voting day in a small town

voting day in a small town (Photo credit: Muffet)

It has been a long time coming, 18 months to be exact.  18 months, about 77.5 weeks and approximately 542.5 days AND 13,020 hours!!!! That’s how long we’ve been listening to ads on the radio, reading columns in the newspaper, watching tv commercials, accosted by pamphlet-bearing party workers on the sidewalks, harassed  by  repeated robo calls, invited to rallies and fund-raisers, bombarded by daily emails from political organizations, and lastly not to mention the postcards, newsletters and solicitation fund-raising letters – ALL in the name of democracy, all in the pursuit of the most powerful office in the country.  Oh yeah, I was only referring to the presidential campaign you can quadruple the intensity when you factor in the local representatives, state senators, sheriffs and on infinitum.

And tonight it will FINALLY  be over – or will it?  Ohhhh,  I think the results of this year’s election will be immediately called into question!  Accusations of voter fraud are just waiting behind the curtain, recounts ordered and then further analyzed.  Absentee ballots scrutinized and possibly discarded;  Remember the hanging chads in Florida!  This year a secondary campaign was waged, to disenfranchise thousands of voters and prevent them from exercising their constitutional right.  In New Jersey, a state crippled by Hurricane Sandy, throwing the means to conduct proper voting in to chaos and confusion has instituted (can you believe this?) voting by fax!  Where states like Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky and Georgia passed highly restrictive voter ID laws, New Jersey went all out in trying to encourage voter participation where their residents lacking heat, electricity and water are understandably  disheartened  and dissuaded from making the effort to get out and vote.  This puts another nuance on the state’s unofficial slogan “Jersey Strong”.

Personally, I will be beyond thrilled to have it over.  I hope, I pray my man wins because I don’t like the person I’ve become when the other guy is on TV.  The defaming, the libel, the lies, the slander, it has got to STOP.  Fact-checkers be damned?  Are you kidding me?  I’m living in a world where the word Christian has taken on a new meaning and certainly not one that I care for or can espouse.  Let it be over please!

The polls close in my state at 9:00 – I hope everyone gets to vote. I waited about an hour and a half this morning – they said the scanners weren’t working.  I really liked the old voting machines and wish they would bring them back. If you haven’t voted yet – PLEASE DO SO NOW!

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