Monday, October 28, 2013

I'm thinking of you...

I'm saying goodbye, I sure hope you can hear me Bill. You left us this morning surrounded, as usual, by love. A  richly deserved, well earned and continuous love. You were pretty lucky that way. A little something for you to smile about and to be envied for.

That forever smile is what will be missed the most. Your ability to bring a chuckle from pain can not be replaced. Being taken into your family was something I cherished and having the good fortune to share that smile so often is a memory I'll carry forward. Happily, you passed that trait to your children...to smile, to laugh and to persevere. Pretty good things to be remembered for.

Now, as you take your smile and devilish grin to a more exalted level you might pause and remember how it always took you so long to get home from the airport and tell all around you, "You can call me anything you want, but don't call me Father, here!" Just one story of you that will remain with me.

Rest easy, old friend.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

One for the road

Two of us talking about once upon a time. Two people, one era, two slants on it. We were friends then , we are friends now. One waxes nostalgic and one doesn't. At one time we dated sisters...now we are just dated! He is nostalgic, I am  not. Why?

My guess? He had one home from birth until marriage while I had lived in at least four places before we met. If you are continually meeting new people, creating new friendships and new memories the old ones seem to fade quickly. 

Where he thinks lovingly back to his past my past and present merge into a never-ending road show. I've come to the "crossroads", passed on to "a new branch in the road" and followed "the yellow brick road". I'm in it for the"long haul." So, "you along the road", I am not just taking "the road less traveled", "I'm walking" all of them.

If I missed a cliche or old title, I'm sorry...but I tried!

Hopefully Fred and I will get together soon and laugh about this little frivolity, meantime I wonder is there still time for "a walk on the wild side?"

Reel...ly?

As a kid I was pretty much addicted to old movies. Because I was seeing them on the small screen the same movie could be watched several times before you actually saw the entire movie. Even now there will an occasional scene that I have never seen before. Commercials, of course, were the reason for the "editing", even though they frequently user the term, "edited for mature audiences." The maturity level of movie goers has not improved in the several decades following. 

Many of the black and white stars remain stars, while I ponder who the Hell these people are on the screen now. Bogart will eternally be a star, but Adam Sandler? It's all in the perception I guess. 

I just saw a movie at a theater. It's been  a long time. 3D actually works now. And, Sandra Bullock has long since paid her dues...she's an actress. Gravity is worth seeing.

Now I am back to the small screen again. Busy putting together a library to take with me to start my trek. The screen will do color, but my library will be heavily black and white. Not many from this century and few from 1990 forward. I try to find actors or directors that I like and follow their thread. 

Some movies I detested so completely that I don't even want to see if I might have been wrong. For instance, one with good people, good reviews, but filmed in sepia...glorious brown. McCabe and Mrs. Miller. A second, again good cast, glowing reviews, but I snored through it...Julia. More apt to rewatch A Mad, mad,mad,mad World. One I originally liked and changed my mind about. 

Perception is reality when we speak of filmdom. Money defines perception. The movie is not graded on quality, or rushes, or reviews. Just box office. If you have talent  it just means your movie sold well. 

Think I'll go watch the original Sahara again...or Sabrina.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Cubic feet

Some things can be measured. A cubic foot of feathers takes the same space as a cubic foot of gold. Not my problem as I have neither. What I have is a two bedroom house and all that goes with it. The problem? Not how do I pack it, because that defies logic, but how do I choose?

The obvious, the mundane are pretty easy. The RV has furniture and it can not be replaced. Decor space is almost non-existent. As is kitchen space, or bathroom, etc. In short, if something takes up room it has to go. While I sit here among all this stuff it becomes overwhelming. What, exactly will I take with me?

Memories can not be measured in quantity, volume or space. All can go. They exist in me, not the machine, the box or on paper. So memories go. The cat. An extremely pared down list of necessities. Communication tools. Camera. Hope.

To me, unknown places are the same as strangers...friends that I have yet to be properly introduced to. Until I can't, I will!

Beh!

The press is a free press. They can say and do whatever they want, to whoever and whenever with virtual impunity. 
It is really difficult for me to believe that was the intent of the amendment. Worse it was tied to free speech for the individual, so if we try to fix it we lose again. All for a sound bite and a piece of the entertainment dollar. Kind of reminds me of the good old days...the ones with gladiators and public executions.

No big thing

The DC Follies are not a new phenomena. The time period between the Declaration of Independence and the creation of a set of laws to run the nation was one of even more contention and weakness. But, we survived.

At that time our population was around 2.4 million, or less than one third the current population of New York City and 90% were farmers. we were an agrarian culture. Business, commerce and corporations, as we know them now, did not exist.

The question before us at that point was national existence...nothing more. We had no army, so controlling borders was a more nebulous action than the borders were themselves. New states were forming while we debated. And, they were doing business with the same folks we had been warring with just weeks and months ago. a strong central government didn't exist. Topics we consider mainstream were unworthy of conversation. Rights? Immigration? Taxes? Only male property owners could vote. If you were of european stock you were a citizen...simple.
Again, we survived. 

Somehow from this paltry number of people we managed to gather perhaps the largest number of great leaders in our history. Debate on a constitution was initiated. Battle lines drawn and fought over. Concessions were made and finally common sense prevailed. 

Using existing documents, such as the Magna Carta, a document was hammered out and our farm based nation was given one of great legal documents of all time. Our Constitution. Even now with all the changes it has undergone it is the first source for emerging nations world wide.

We are survivors.

Breakfast at Parkside

Recently I read an NPR article on sleep and sleep diprivation. It appears that sleep "washes away" toxins that build up because of a long hard day of thinking. Well with all those toxins gone I start my day listening to all the conversations going on around me while we eat. Almost everyone here is a "regular", we know each other by sight and or name. The cast of characters is 100% working class America. Today it seems as if that big ol' moon out there has opened a big can of despair.

Unlike the song, all I hear are discouraging words...lot's of them. You can pick your subject, but each one will return to the base line. Everyone feels screwed. From "camera traffic tickets"...a complete scam! To "judicial practice"...quick arrests followed by a total inability to prosecute. And it goes on, blah, blah, blah! The shear volume  of complaint drones on as a less than tasty condiment to my eggs and bacon.

Is this negative? Of course. Depressing? Yep! But, for most it's a continuation of their usual day to day existence. This is what I hope to escape...I'll keep you informed.

I can understand the feelings being voiced. Demographically these are my peers. Age, education levels and economic situations are something we share. Their doubts are my doubts. What hope does the future hold? All I have are suspicions, not answers. Answers to follow at a later date.

Agreement on any subject in impossible. The "so-called free press" makes sure of that. Every chance to fill a sound bite with "a discouraging word" is taken in every redundant way they can imagine. Politics and the free press, they vie for our entertainment dollar instead of giving unbiased unpolarized viewpoints.

Maybe we should all follow the lead of my cat...sleep and more of it. Cleanse those toxins!

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Snap...shots

This is something I heard on an old re-run, showing there is hope for wit and humor on consumer TV.

As it takes on absurdity in two different aspects with a single swipe, I  can only admire. ...not ghost, it's an "apparitional American!"


Superman and Batman are both "supposedly" 6'3"...no applications for Tom Cruise, please!


Hitting for the cycle in baseball means getting one of each type of hit in one game. In the game of life it's being a grandparent watching your teenaged grandchild doing to your child exactly what you did to your parents.


We are about to celebrate "National Dentist's Day...aka, Halloween. I wonder what would happen if I were to hand out toothpaste?


If you were to go just by height and weight most of the older members of the Football Hall of Fame would not even get a tryout in today's world.


The difference between  a radical and a "talking head"? The radical isn't paid to believe!


Another way to say that, You can only see something clearly, is if you believe what you are told...without question.


I don't have to buy "Cat-toys", Spot found my pens! Now if only I could!


How about a "Whacko News Network"? ...oh, almost forgot about Fox!





Monday, October 21, 2013

Doldrums

All the gizmos are lined up, waiting to be charged. My full length coat, at the shop for repair. The suitcase waits in the closet. All the wools, the silks, the winter garb is clean, pressed and ready. If the ticket was open-ended, I would be out of here. So what that I would be sleeping under a bridge! I would be home.

When will the excitement of the coming departure kick in and help me shake the lassitude that dogs me? Rome has never failed me, expectations are high. At least this time, as someone pointed out, I have something positive to look forward to upon return stateside.

For now, I doggedly work my way through the lists. Paying and pre-paying bills, sorting and parceling out household goods. Taking the unsellable items, the poorly sized clothing, etc to charity. Christmas knick-knacks to auction. List after list. Slow. Tedious. Boring. A lethargy has enveloped me. The excitement of change hovers in the distance. The daily march to the mail box a constant reminder of the slowly approaching future. More maps, more brochures, with more to come and still more planning.

Sooner or later the time will be here and the planning finished. The "doing" will commence. The future is now.

But first, a few days at home. And, that time is coming too...so slowly!

A presto, mi amici!

What she said...2005

This is  what my wife Grace wrote about our 2005 visit to Rome. What was true then, is true now. 

This trip really started five years ago when we first saw and fell in love with Roma. Our second visit confirmed our love affair. After we returned from that trip and were talking so positively about Rome and how much we loved it, my daughter laughingly said “Maybe you’ll retire there!” My husband Max, who, by now has started calling himself a Roman, immediately started a campaign to see if indeed we could do such a thing.
I researched my family roots to finally find that my grandparents, who were born in Italy, had naturalized in the early 1900’s thus making it impossible for me to move to Italy and obtain dual citizenship. We then decided before we could consider retiring to Rome we should try a visit for a longer period to be sure that was really what we wanted to do. So we decided to take a month long vacation in Rome to see if we felt the same after we spent some time living there the same way Romans do, not as tourists. That’s when we started our long search for an apartment to rent for the month of October. We wanted something centrally located in a nice neighborhood with a full kitchen and separate bedroom so we could attempt to live the way we would if we were retired. A test, of sorts, to see if we could adapt to the life style and still have our love affair with Roma.
We had so many different websites saved as favorites we couldn’t tell which was which and sometimes couldn’t remember why we thought a particular one was worth saving. Most were either too small or too expensive or too far from where we wanted to be. Finally, my husband discovered Slow Travel, which is where we found exactly what we were looking for, Rome is Home (see review).
We contacted the owner, Massimo De Majo, who was very friendly and took all the information he needed and asked us to send an email to him telling us about ourselves and why we wanted to rent an apartment. We did so and after many emails back and forth we sent a deposit for our reservation for the month of October.
Most of the travel reports we’ve read seem to follow a logical progression. I’m going to omit the flights to and from Rome because the negative airline had little to do with our experience in Rome.
By pre-arrangement with Massimo our plane was met at the airport by Gino, our driver, who quickly got us in route to our destination. I should say Gino got us quickly on the road because we did not have our luggage; it was delayed! We were greeted at our new home for the month by Massimo, Biancamaria (his wife) and Delfina, their 5 year old daughter.
The apartment was being given a once over by Ronnie, the weekly cleaner so we took a quick peek at apartment then all went to the Campo de Fiori, by means of walking down a street to a “secret” passageway for a quick bite at Il Carbonara. It was a bright, sunny, warm day and the restaurant had al fresco dining, how perfect! We all choose light pasta and roasted vegetables and salad, which worked well considering how tired we were.
This meal proved to also work as a get acquainted meal and our trip was now off to a spectacular start. We finally got to meet the people we had corresponded with for several months already having formed a long distance friendship. Now we knew our instincts were right! When traveling it’s always the people who have the power to make or break the enjoyment of a wonderful place! These three were definitely makers!
After chatting, planning for future get-togethers and dining we returned to apartment for a much needed rest. The trip to Campo de Fiori was the first of an almost daily routine we followed for the entire month. Massimo, Biancamaria and Delfina left us at apartment after Massimo explained how to use things like washer/dryer and little Delfina showed us how to open the sofa bed in the living room in case we had company! The apartment was exactly as nice as it was represented on the website and should work out fine for our needs.
After resting for what by now was the normal time Romans took a long lunch break and rest we talked with another Italian friend from our first two trips to Italy, Vanni, the Tour Guide who advised us that we could accomplish some quick shopping right on our street in several good shops for any items of clothing we needed due to our luggage being delayed. This fit in perfectly with our plans for trying to live “as the native do” if you need something get it in the neighborhood whenever possible. So off we went to shop; the test was starting with a bang!
We shopped for at least one complete set of clothing interspersing each shop with a stop for a cappuccino at Bar Rossana on the corner while Max brought purchases back to our apartment three doors away. Eventually we found everything we needed to at least be able to get out of the clothes we had been in since leaving Boston the day before.
Max, by then was becoming hungry so we continued our walk and ended up at the Campo for the second time that day. This time we chose another shop and Max ordered his first Panini of the trip and I had a gelato with fresh strawberries. It was now early evening and we sat and people watched for a while before deciding we needed to get something to cook for Sunday since the Market at the Campo would change from produce/meat market to an artisan/craft market on Sunday.
We walked down to the meat shop and purchased pollo cutlets and stuffed mushrooms then went across to flower stall for flowers to place on dining room table. We then decided to call it a day and head home. Thank goodness for the elevator in our building since our apartment was on the third floor (Italian style) and I was pretty tired. Oh by the way, did I mention that I have a large boot on my foot and am using crutches, since I broke my ankle four weeks before we left for trip????
Sunday started out with cappuccino and pastries at Rosanna’s, then a walk around neighborhood to pickup postcards and other sundry items. We ended up following the long way to Campo De Fiori where the Artisan Market was already setup and doing a lively business. We purchased a cane for me for when my foot got stronger, a light weight scarf and a few Christmas gifts to bring back to the States. Another cappuccino at Bar Campo De Fiori, which soon became our favorite place to sit when visiting the Campo; and where we made many friends before we headed home to check on the luggage situation.
The luggage would not arrive that day. American Express, who originally booked our flights for us, suggested we go out and purchase a few things to sustain us and gave us a “Baggage Delayed” allowance to spend. So off we went to shop a little more. The only problem was that not much was open on Sunday.
We decided to try Via Nationale where we stayed on our last trip since they had some larger shops. Max had intended to purchase a leather coat, (nothing to do with the American Express allowance) and the first shop we found open on Via Nationale was a leather shop. He found exactly what he was looking for, purchased it and we left to return on Thursday to pick the coat up after alterations.
Over the years of traveling we have found that shop people, whether owners or employees are the easiest people to meet. When we shop we socialize at the same time and usually have a fairly good time whether we are shopping for ourselves or gift giving. Many times if you explain why you’re there to the shopkeeper, their effort to help grows exponentially.
I had success finally at a Benneton store where Laura waited on me, whisking around store selecting items for me to try while I sat on a bench she had moved into the dressing room so I could sit. I bought three outfits that mix and match and we headed for home. Oh, by the way it had been raining all day and now it was simply pouring and there were no cabs in sight.
We started walking and when we get to the bottom of our street saw a trattoria, Der Pallaro, brightly lit and quickly filling with customers, lots of laughter emitting from the open doorway.
Max said, “Why don‘t we have dinner here and you can cook tomorrow?”
I agreed and Max left to bring the packages to our apartment while I waited at the doorway to secure a table. The owner, dressed in a traditional costume saw me standing with my crutches and said, "Table?"
I replied yes for two, and she quickly decided to place me at a front table in the covered alfresco section. I found that she was Mamma Pallaro and quite a character. By the time Max returned a bottle of sparkling water and a bottle of wine had been placed on the table without my asking. Next came a large variety of appetizers from braized fennel to stuffed seafood, all absolutely delicious. This course was followed by bowls of pasta in a red sauce with lots of grated cheese. Just when I thought I had eaten enough to last two days, the main course arrived - roasted pork with a light gravy and a plate of potato chips. Once we devoured that course a slice of a light lemon torte was delivered to each of us.
In between all this food we joined in the conversation with folks at the surrounding tables (four from California and a father and daughter from the US we had met at the Benneton store - their luggage also lost!). After lots of laughter and truly full to the brim we asked for the check expecting it to be a slightly expensive experience; the waiter asked if we had one or two bottles of wine and when we reply one, said 40 Euro! Amazing! This food, was definitely peasant style with no pretensions of grandeur but extremely good and certainly affordable. We ended up recommending this to many tourists we met over the month who were asking where is a good affordable place to eat.
At one point we met a couple from Canada who we returned to Pallaro with for another meal, this time inside. The second meal was equally good, some of the appetizers were different, and the main course was beef rather than pork so it appears you are served whatever is freshest for that particular day; the same way native Italians shop.
Margaret and Stan agreed this was a great place and said it was the most fun they had at a meal during their entire trip. They especially liked the idea of not knowing what was coming next, something they had not tried before.
Rather than continuing this on a day to day basis, I am now going to switch to the highlights of the month. Let me say now that it took approximately two days to adjust to the life style although the first two weeks were somewhat difficult at points due to the need to be placing phone calls constantly regarding our lost luggage, clarifying situation over and over with various offices, (whether by phone or in person on the other side of town) and waiting once promises were made for deliveries of luggage that never happened.
Massimo, Biancamaria and Delfina came one day to take us to the countryside for the afternoon. They wanted us to see where they are remodeling a house in Sutri and to see some very special Etruscan ruins that few tourists get to see. The ruins were near Sutri and were spectacular. Carved into the hillside we saw an ancient amphitheater then walked a little further to tour the underground church. Originally Etruscan then subsequently taken over and used by the Catholic church this ancient temple and necropolis was now in dire need. The frescoes inside, while still vibrant in spots were sadly crumbling down. The temple was adjusted to a more normal lay-out, including the stations of the cross. A font still stands by the inside entrance and the frescoes here were more complete than those inside. When you turned to leave, the castle across the way was framed perfectly in the entrance making for a beautiful departure.
After leaving here, we headed for the home in Sutri so all the dogs could be fed. Sutri was part of the old pilgrims road out of Siena. A tale of woe regarding contractor’s (three and counting) went along with the ride and quick visit to their work in progress. Location, location, location; the site was beautiful and I am sure that soon enough they will be loving their beautiful home. Next, a lovely luncheon at Lake Bracciano at a family run trattoria across from the beach. After which a short stroll (remember the crutches) on the beach and then a return home. This was indeed one of the highlights of our entire trip.
Since one of our goals was also to take care of our Christmas shopping while in Rome we scored almost immediately by walking across the street to Ibiz. Bags, belts, chairs if you want; beautiful items and priced nicely. Better still, we met Elisa, one of our friends-to-be. During the following weeks hardly a day went by without passing through this shop. Obviously we were able to cut off a big piece of the shopping list, but the best thing was the way our new friendship was headed.
Elisa had opted to take over the business when her parents wanted to leave it to start new careers, saying "I did not want the tradition to die, too much of the workmanship is disappearing". How lucky for us that she made this decision, she is an excellent designer and very adept with her workmanship.
She introduced us to her Mother and told us about her Father’s restaurant il Quinto-Quarto. Of course the next evening we went and not only had a very delicious meal with her father explaining every item on the menu to us before hand in English, but met a long-time friend of Elisa's who had stopped for dinner with a date. All items on the menu here were typical of old style Roman cuisine and well done. This was a extremely fun evening with lots of conversation and laughter.
One of my favorite places in Rome is the Forum. On this trip we had the time to actually walk thru it. Just thinking of the Forum awakens my imagination. I can readily envision the early Romans going about their business in this political arena. Sitting on a stone in the Forum could be something I'll want to do over and over again. I also wanted to see the Forum at night and we found that this could be accomplished by going to the Museo Capitolini just prior to dusk. We found a cab that would take us to the top so I did not have to deal with the hassle of the multiple steps. Once there we went to the side of the Museo and as darkness came, were able to take the pictures I wanted with the various ruins spotlighted.
We had been told by one of Max's nieces, who spent a year during college studying in Rome, that we should try a place to dine in the Jewish Ghetto. We certainly had the time on this trip so decided to go at lunchtime. This is a very small place and in order to have a meal there you have to sign up to join their "Social Club". Joining means you simply fill out a card with your name, there are no fees, you keep half of the card and Sora Margarita keeps the other half.
We arrived, were seated and asked if we have a membership card, a fresh set of cards were given to us and once we filled them out we were given menus. The menus were written completely in Italian. The young man sitting at the other half of the table saw that we were struggling with menu and offered his assistance, since he spoke both English and Italian. Once this was accomplished, we placed our order and were served the delicious Jewish fried artichokes this place is famous for as an appetizer. I had Gnocchi with pomadoro/basil sauce and Max had a peppered pasta dish similar to ravoli. Both meals were the best we ever had. Desert was not something to sneeze at either. I had a cheesecake sort of torte with dark cherries. All meals here were very reasonably priced. We would return to this treasure once more later in the trip and look forward to more in the future.
While we did not feel as though we had to spend a lot of time on this trip sight-seeing we did return to some of our favorite places. Among those were visits to The Pantheon, St Pietro ie Vincoli to visit Moses (my favorite Michangelo sculpture), Pizzia Navona, The Colosseo as well as some new found favorites such as Centrale Monte Martini, (an old power plant-turned museum) which is a true treasure that few people seem to know about. If you've never been here it is a definite must do. Here they have not removed the old power plant equipment, it has simply been left right where is was and interspersed with varying statuary, frescos and mosaic tile work. The contrasts of these pieces which originally were in storage in the Capitolini against the starkness of the huge, black power plant equipment was startlingly beautiful.
There also was an electric bus (#116) we had never taken before that took us from the Campo De Fiori to Vialla Borghese Gardens bypassing small streets along the Pantheon, Piazza Navona and other pleasant views of upscale neighborhoods as we neared the Gardens.
To list all of the churches we visited here would take too much space, however one highlight was in Trastevere, San Francesco a Ripa where Bernini's "Ecstasy of Beata Ludovica Albertoni" is on display. Another gem visited was located in the Jewish Ghetto area, Palazzo Cenci, which was an open courtyard full of sculptures with more sculptures on second floor balcony of Palazzo.
One Sunday morning's trip to the Artisan market at the Campo resulted in a vendor offering to bring her book of designs for young children's attire to our apartment to choose something for my sister's first granddaughter. Laura Falciatori took ordinary items and embellished them with her own designs. As arranged Laura appeared one morning with her sister Paola who is a lawyer who told us she would be happy to help us obtain our residence permisso when we returned. Max and I went through Laura's book of designs and selected a couple of fairy designs to be placed on pullover shirts for Isabella along with her name, as well as another gift with different design Max spotted in her book as a gift for someone else. Laura said they would be completed the following week and she would call to make arrangements for delivery. When Max offered to give her a deposit she declined saying "No, you pay after you approve completed projects." A week later, Max walked to a prearranged location to meet Laura and pickup our order. The entire cost of the items was less than I would have paid for the same quality in US without them being personalized and embellished with a design.
One of the prime evenings we spent was a dinner with the travel guide from our first trip, Vanni Martelli and his wife Kanva at Luigi's in Piazza Sforza Cesarini across the street from the Chiesa Nuova. This was the first time we met Kanva and found her to be as delightful as she was beautiful and gracious.
That evening just as we were being seated in the courtyard, another guide from our first trip and his wife appeared at our table to say hello as they were going to their apartment, which was located at the end of the courtyard. Paolo and his wife were pleased to see us and had apparently been told by Vanni that we would be there that evening. The dinner was absolutely wonderful, I had a pasta dish with the tiniest clams I've ever seen and cherry tomatoes that will remain firmly fixed in my mind until I am able to duplicate it in my own kitchen. The evening was delightful, full of promises to get together again when we return and while lasting the standard 3 1/2 hours it takes for a proper dinner over too soon as we had so many things to discuss and were having such a good time.
Speaking of cooking in my own kitchen, some of the dinners I was able to cook during this trip included freshly cut veal prepared as saltimbucca by the butcher in the Campo along with dishes I was never able to prepare at home due to lack of availability of proper ingredients like Fried stuffed zucchini blossoms or fresh caprese with the ripest of tomatos and the best mozarella available. All of these ingredients were readily available at the Campo at prices lower than lesser quality available in the States any time you wanted them. If the butcher had no saltimbucca prepared it was no problem just wait a minute or two and he'd prepare it especially for you.
As I said previously we intended to try to fit into the small neighborhood where we were living for the month, so we spent most of our time there either in various shops, daily visits to Campo De Fiori, whether to shop for food or just sit the Campo De Fiori Bar and people watch while making friends with the wait staff and owner of Bar. There we met Claudio from Morroco, Ana from Serbia, and Antonio from Bangledesh. They became friends who we hope to see again soon. When we visited for the last time prior to our flight to US, everyone was warm, hugging and wishing for our speedy return and hopeful we would indeed correspond via email. We have already corresponded with them via email and will continue to do so as soon as we have firmer plans for our return.
Our other most visited haunt in the neighborhood was Bar Rossana which was two doors from our apartment. This was a small bar with alfresco seating outside, owned by Rossana with her son, Christiano as the bartender. Here we got our daily morning cappuccini, sometimes adding a pastry, our evening beer/wine and aqua frizzante and an after dinner drink Christiano introduced Max to called Mirto. Rossana also served a daily lunch buffet that you would expect took six people to create, which she prepared daily all by herself! The food was incredibly good and very inexpensive. Christiano took up the mission of teaching Max Italian and often would crackup anyone listening by challenging Max, asking him to respond to his question properly in Italian. When Max made a mistake Christiano would very firmly say "Repeat after me…" This routine caused Max to start a notebook that he never went to Bar Rossana without that had notes of phrases Christiano had taught him.
Another place we frequented several times was a specialty women's clothing shop called Beba, where I met another Rossana who was the saleperson and also a seamestress. I first met her when I took the slacks I purchased at Benneton to be hemmed. That visit led to the purchase of a very different sweater set and a new jacket with very sleek styling. Zuri Badash, the owner told of his exit from Tunisia due to the inability to flourish as a businessman with the regime in charge and how much happier he is in Rome. He told us he came to Rome, felt at home almost immediately and quickly adapted to the lifestyle of the locals and hence was accepted. He continued that since we had already started that process we should have no problems when we return since Rome was already "at home in our hearts".
Once our luggage finally arrived (2 ½ weeks after we did) I was free to shop for things I loved rather than things I absolutely needed, hence several additional visits to this unique shop were made.
Of course, as I said before no day was complete without a stop by Ibez to visit Elisa. The evening before our departure to the States, Elisa and her Mother met us at Bar Rossana for a quick drink, her mother left for another appointment and Elisa's fiancee, Artero joined us to chat for a bit and say goodbye as we would be leaving before she opened her shop in the morning. The last person we spoke with that evening was Rosanna who gifted us with some wine from her bar, wishing us well and a quick return from her and Christiano. It was an evening of tears especially for the kindness these new friends had extended to us and the way they accepted us in their midst. Again travel IS all about the people you meet!
The most important question to be answered was apartment availability and costs, which meant visiting a Real Estate Agent as well as talking to people in neighborhood who may know of something. Since the apartment we rented for the month worked so perfectly for us in the aspects of size, equipment and location we feel something similar would also work when we return.
The answers from the realtor were indeed more positive than expected and in one case if we were in position to make the move at the time we were in Rome we could have gotten a newly refurbished apartment in the Ghetto with a gourmet kitchen and balcony for the amount of money we had already set as a budget. Further investigation gave us even more hope of finding what we wanted by simply planning to rent on a short term basis (a month or two) when we return and choose from what recommendations realtors and neighborhood locals could point us to. While this may seem a little scary, it would give us the opportunity to choose exactly what we wanted and which neighborhood we preferred.
To our way of thinking this trip accomplished answering all the questions and any reservations we may have had about the feasibility of us moving to Rome for, as Max says "as long as it works." Because we came back with such positive feelings and an even more profound love of Rome our next mission has become finding out what we have to do and how soon can we accomplish the move? We will begin the tasks with finding out what we need to have accomplished and what we need to have on hand prior to applying for a visa (not possible any sooner than 90 days prior to departure). Obviously this will be a tedious chore but the end result will most certainly be exciting for us.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Oh Ollie, what a fine mess...

Boss!...'da plane! If this isn't Fantasy island will a real adult please stand up and be counted. In what most of us disgruntled constituents call the real world any employee acting like these would be gone...long gone! DC seems much more like Fantasy Island than anyway. Mainly, the elected think of themselves as the anointed, selected by the masses and now owing those same people zero. Omnipotent. Their over-riding concern? Re-election. Either pandering to the privileged or off somewhere seeking the truth on our dime. The truth is right there in front of them. No need to go a-junketing. Ask any young house holder...the bills have to be payed, the children fed, schooled and given hope. All the things you the anointed are failing at so miserably. Open your eyes. Look! Close your mouths. Listen!

I propose an amendment to the constitution. "The term of office for all elected officials shall be six years with a maximum term of service to be two (non-consecutive) terms. One third of all to be elected every two years. All mid term vacancies to be filled for the remainder of the term by the minority leader in the affected post. 

Yes I realize that this amendment is more Fantasy Island too. But my point is that, silly or sane, it is more than they have accomplished. Over three quarter of a million workers are on furlough, unpaid while these "simpering sycophants" scamper away, playing "pin the tail" or the "blame game."Blameless themselves...or, clueless! Yet, they still get payed. Remember this is Fantasy Island and you can't fire the Boss.

All the ideals "we the people" are taught trampled as they scurry back to their rocks to hide. What happened to bravery, courage, doing the right thing, moderation...common sense? All we have is a widening gulf between the people and the do-nothings.

They cross their hearts and pledge allegiance...do they cross their fingers too?

They stand and mumble the national anthem...read the words!

I hear the same lies over and over. Lies do not become truths by repetition or yelling them louder...they remain what they are, lies!

Selective memory is attributed to elderly, the senile, the demented. Under which group do they fail? Oops, I meant fall.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

There came a scratching...

I thought this one was complete and posted...but I can't find it, so...

A hot summer evening and the girls are upstairs sleeping. I have just come up myself. Our bedrooms are the only ones with air conditioning so there are visions of nice cool goosebumps in my head. But, before I can fall off to the land of Nod I hear,"Max...there's something outside!"

I throw on some shorts and head back downstairs into the humid night. Mary Ellen has heard some strange noises and our Cats are showing their agreement...huge fluffy tails! Then I hear them too, scratching sounds, low moans, etc. Bad movie noises! We are on a busy street, I am afraid that I am about to find a hit and run victim.
Nothing! Dark and silent night is all I see and hear. Closing the front door with a shrug and a few words I start for the stairs...more scratches.

Grabbing a flashlight I yank open the front door, fully expecting to find laughing teenagers...more nothing. Dark and silent nothing. Once again I close the door. Before I can turn around the noises return. I throw the door open and for the first time step outside, almost tripping over a three inch ball...of stinky and unhappy feathers. A baby owl had dropped out of it's nest and was not happy. All unhappy children, human or feathered voice their displeasure the same way, screams. Most human babies don't smell like this though...not often anyway. 

The big fluffy cat tails are now very twitchy and almost point to the "vicious" break and entry suspect. The fun begins. Number one, cover up that mound of odor with something and fast. Protect it. Cats to the cellar...so they can grumble and hiss without harm.

Now there is a smelly owl in our living room, screaming. Our cats in the cellar equally upset and vocal, plus the girls are wide eyed and loving it. So we start. Call number one; Animal Control..."Please leave a message at the beep, if this is an emergency...blah,blah,blah!" Call number two; local Park Ranger...more of the same. In desperation the police. They give us more numbers which give us more of the same. Tired of voice machines we call the friendly police station again, at least they have humans to speak to. 

It's just about midnight, the desperation must have been pouring through the line...they sent a cruiser! With two of the largest cops on the force. They came in to "arrest", perhaps the smallest "B&E" suspect ever. He went peacefully, which was pretty good because they didn't have any handcuffs in Owl sizes.

Sleep!

The morning watch commander told us that the "suspect" had been released in the custody of one of the officers. One that lived in the woods. The cats approved. The girls didn't. Can't please everyone.

Really! I need a reason?

When I first sat down with a map in front of me there were some places that were more prominent. Places that I had been to and, perhaps never thought I would return to. Places that I had never visited and desired to. Places where I had family. others that were centers of culture or hubs for exploration. Others, were in between places...the kind you went through in order to get where you were aiming for. 

I requested every type of information that I could find. Even if not in love curiosity still prevails. It came, in large quantity, large envelopes and big maps. Due diligence in action and now decisions to be made. Hours of driving ahead, thousands of miles to drive...what is my destination? Nirvana? That is a state that may or may not be a result of this expedition but there is no brochure or map available. 

There is no final destination. Only stops, here and there, along the way. One surprise, to me at least, was my brother John's little slice of heaven. Oregon stands out among the unvisited. I will plan my journey to there and let the chips fall accordingly. Winter...not, summer, fall look good. Of course southern Utah and all the adjoining Parks aren't just beckoning me. They are screaming to me.   

First things first. See you all soon.

Friday, October 11, 2013

Indomitable

Impossible to defeat or subdue...I have always known people with this kind of spirit. Someone that is always looking forward, not dwelling in the past, living life to the utmost and enjoying the ride. People you would choose to be with. And, if you are truly lucky they are "family". Like Denny, Uncle Charlie, Aunt Mary. If not, you do what I do, adopt them. 

They, like all of us are human and time equalizes. When the inevitable approaches, the shock is more surprising...this can't be!
The final curtain has not fallen. Perhaps, like Aunt Mary, there will still be years of inexplicable joy, perhaps. Right now, I sit, trying to convey what only tears can. 

How would he deal with this situation...if it was me? A shake of his head, a few earthy comments and then take the next step in the road. So I will try to hold the good thought and try again...just like Bill.

An incandescent passage

Over seventy years ago two young people met and a flame ignited to be extinguished, decades later, only by their deaths.

There were similarities, there were differences. Both seem to add to the flame. Both had lost there Fathers at an early age. Both had a sister, a brother and had lost a sibling. My Mother lost her sister to a drunk driver while Max had a still-born brother. 

But they could have been from different planets culturally, he was a "Yankee" and her Mother was a member of the Daughters of the Confederacy. Perhaps that dichotomy is what made their flame so intense, so raw, so incandescent. And, it did. There eleven of us as living proof. It was something that they, sadly, could not transfer. It was theirs and while they assuredly loved us, passing that on to us was beyond reality. They simply loved too hard. When Max died, years later, Mother began to slowly wither. There was nothing remaining. 

As kids, we were aware, but not able to communicate or articulate our "aloneness." So we developed the stoic demeanor of our Newfoundland ancestors. Stoic, yes. Quiet, no. We shouted to be heard, but never just talked and never listened. Bringing back something that never existed is not conceivable. That ship sailed. Years ago. 

The situation existed, but it was not intentional. It just was. Maybe even more-so as years pass. Cares? Concerns? Feelings? Perhaps in the past, now I only hope that each of us somehow got to experience that flame ourselves. A passion unexpected, unfathomable and never diminishing.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

It seems like old times

The last time I went to a movie theater and watched a movie Kevin made the choice. 101 Dalmatians. Surprise! Some time ago. Before that...Aladdin! Once upon a time it was more frequent, but it kind of went by the boards somewhere along the lines.

So yesterday I busted out and returned to the big screen again. Change #1, disregarding cost factors, 3D works much better now. Change #2, George Clooney is a much better actor than Keanu Reeves. #3??, Sandra Bullock should never do any more Miss Congeniality movies. She has payed her dues, learned her craft, earned her chops, whatever. She can act. Any forthcoming nominations will be earned and deserved. I read with pleasure the reviews...after I saw the movie. Looks like the professionals agree with me. 

When is a "space movie" not sci-fi? When it's about the struggles and the spirit of two individuals. The special affects were phenomenal, but the story line was still the central issue. Everything meshed and added up to a sum greater than the parts. Yes, I liked it.

This was another fortunate, but ironic casting. Others had their chance and didn't take the part. She did and lived up to it. 

Maybe I won't wait so long between movies this time!

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Exploitation has no redeeming features

While cable TV was supposed to offer so much more selection, that does not seem to be the result. Now we have individual stations devoted to single concepts. Thus, if you don't like the way the screw is twisted...Mike will make it right.

Understanding successful TV concepts isn't rocket science. Some eye candy, a bit of fluff, glitter, glitz and a trivial amount of a premise surrounding the commercials amounts to a new show. Knowing the concept still left me raging after watching a commercial for two under-teen exploitation shows. Eight, nine year old girls being promoted to sex toys under the guise of beauty. Not even on the "adult" stations.

The lack of care, concern, intellect among the surrounding "stage mothers" is exceeded only by their greed and self-indulgence.

In 1996 a very pretty little girl involved in the "beauty pageant" business was murdered. As of now, no one has been indited, let alone charged with a crime. Any crime. We learned so little from her death that  it is now on TV as entertainment. That child was first exploited, abused, deprived of any form of normalcy and then brutally killed. No one punished, no condemnation. Just a new show.

Surviving a "stage door Mom" is tough. Many don't and a lot of the survivors are forever scarred...think Judy Garland, talented, but tormented.

There are no tests, no rules, no licenses required for procreation and in this case it shows. No child should suffer the same end as Jon Benet Ramsey for her parents greed or self-aggrandizement. 

No, these words do not begin to convey my true feelings. Those words can not be printed.

I think I know who watches these shows, Hopefully the police keep the list current.

No memory

There is no record of this ever being asked. "Hey Will, what did you mean when you said, "To be, or not to be?"

And, I wonder about this one too..."Hey Salvidor, what the hell is that?"

Last query, "You paid how much for that drek?"

Way...beyond sad

In the past century we had two "Wars to end all wars", yet when this question was posed; "What is the longest period of peace that the world has Experienced?"

This was an answer, Since World War II ended in 1945 there have been a total of 26, non-sequential days of peace. Prior to that no records had been kept.

Truth or consequences

Something I learned from police procedurals on TV, everyone lies. And you can tell by whether they look you in the eye. Can liars read? Are they intelligent? Can they watch the same shows and learn? Can a blind person tell the truth? How do you know?

Do you ever hear the whole story...from a mute?

What is the message you get from the body language of Michael J. Fox?

Can you believe everything you hear?


Save a pillow

Rule...from an unemployed hotel worker; All beds must have 27 pillows. Because odd numbers appeal most to the human mind.

I don't live in either a spa or designer hotel.Nor, do I have a hired hand to pick them up off the floor where they normally reside...anyone need 26 pillows?

Monday, October 7, 2013

The "new"

There exists an inordinately long period of time between the culmination of a plan and the commencement of it. Then d-day arrives and you realize you forgot a few things. Like every other person in the planning stages I am trying to eliminate those gaps. We will see how I have done.

This venture that I am planning will take me to many places in this country that I have missed until now. So I go on-line and seek information. Always on the look-out for something missed, another line for the bucket list. Every state in my initial loop has a State Tourism org. and I have sent for information to all...except one. Washington. Their website is similar to their climate, cloudy and grey. To the point where, I might pass on the pleasures of Seattle and the 400 mile drive from Oregon to get there. Think I'll go to Glacier instead, it appears to be more welcoming. Warmer!

This first loop, which I think will take a year is still in the developmental stage. Hopefully there be other loops and other years, but first things first. The RV will be big while I am on the road, but a bit more stifling when I am parked and living in it. That puts communication very high on the list of must be squared away items. E-mail, blog, Skype, Facebook and phone all have to be as good as possible. An initial sketchy idea is to go to a place and stay until...whatever and then move on to the next point, ad nauseum. Warm in the winter, coast and waterfalls in the summer. Not very precise. If I need precise, it will need more work.

Photos to follow

White hats

Zane Grey, Max Brand and Louis L'Amour wrote about it. William Boyd, Audie Murphy, Tom Mix, John Wayne starred in them. the Lone Ranger, Hopalong, Lash Larue, the Range Rider they were them. 

One gun or two? Crossed bandoliers. Which is better cross-draw or straight? White horse? Chestnut? Paint? Black? What's an Apaloosa? How do you spell it? 

I never saw a "reel" cowboy take a bath...or kiss a girl!

I read it, I watched it, I believed it! I was 10!

Damn! Everything was so easy then.

Hot and cold

The summer was at it's end. It was October, Halloween nearly here and it was hot! Our RV was parked on the banks of the Virgin River and a rope dangled from a tree over the river. Being a rigid believer in rules, I had to swing out and jump in. You learn by doing. No one ever accused the early Mountain Men of over-cleanliness...now I knew why. This was Zion, not Glacier and my expectations were higher. From high and safely above my splashing, Grace took the pictures. Once again proving she was the smarter one. Happily her photos proved to be as good as ever.; out of focus. We swam only once more on that trip, the last evening in Phoenix. The water temp was 93 and it felt cool. 

We were riding through Monument Valley and were a mere smudge on stark, broken, but beautiful landscape. Paria is where the TV show, Gunsmoke was shot. Kitty, Marshall Dillon and Chester. The only things left were a few dilapidated false store fronts, lots of dust and tumbleweed. But, we could now say that we had been on the set!

We never met Jim Chee, Joe Leaphorn or Kit Carson, citizens, real or imagined of Navajo Nation. Hopefully Tony Hillerman's fictional creations will be kinder to the folks of Chinle than Carson was. Few could be worse.


Revisiting places already visited is not a new experience. Surprisingly all of my returns have exceeded expectation. Some more than others and one above all. Both of us loved the wild, and gorgeous coast of California, but this different and eerie beauty of the Southwest was mine alone. The only plan for my next return experience is to admire the beauty without a schedule or time frame. 

Pick one

In advance of my travels I have been doing research. Where to go, when,routes, etc. One thing I have read a lot about is the number and size of reservations in the west and southwest. The Navajo Nation being the biggest.

That brings me to this, whatever you call them, it is not what they call themselves. And, it holds true straight across the board. No one that you or I ever called an Indian calls themselves that. In fact the name Indian was based on a misconception made by the first wave of undocumented aliens...they thought they had arrived in India. More current is the term "Native Americans," a choice of the US government to prove how racially conscious they were. "Do-gooders" in the government? Tell what you think of that. They have even changed the name of the Bureau of Indian Affairs. To what? Who knows?

Something missed in all this posing is that none of the affected peoples think of themselves that way. For instance the Navajo call themselves Dine. The other tribes each have their own names as well. Just as many of us speak of our heritage being either Irish, Italian, German etc. they have their own. Not Indian. That would, first off imply that they are united. They are not and never have been. Nor  are they native, having walked here millions of years ago. First, yes. Native, no.

It is nice to see the governments' concern after years of subjugating them . Trying to eradicate their cultures, languages and beliefs. Yep', nice veer to the do-good side. Here's the question, given the government's shining benevolence, what is it they are trying to steal now? Now, you may call that cynical, but history (which we wrote) indicates that we are shifty and untrustworthy. In blunt terms, the white man speaks with a forked tongue. Some things don't change.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

A birthday

A little Italian pixie was born about 94 years ago. He may have been the only person in my life that absolutely no one ever spoke a bad word of. He left us last year and left everyone with good memories to be shared among all. His wealth measured in nothing but love and affection. 

Honey. No nickname for a self absorbed person, he lived up to it. No joke, no pun left untold. Laughter, smiles...he always made you feel better by his presence.

The light in your eyes and your smile still warms us. That slight little gleam and the smallest twitch of a smile is missed.

Ciao Victor!

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Pithy?

Oh Dad! Is this the sign of senility? Or has you're child become a teenager?


Put a stick in a hornet's nest...reaction. Prod your cat with same stick...she ignores you or purrs louder...different reaction. Walk down a city street, no stick, Yet another reaction. Humans harder to figure out than hornets or cats!

Blah, blah, blah! Or, how to get a degree in poly-sci!


Teenage rebellion. Middle age crisis. Second childhood. Obviously only cows are contented!


It may not be fair, it may not be nice, but if you dress like "one" you will be treated as one. Regardless of whichever "one" you opt for. Look like a buy and should be able to figure out how you will be treated. Appearances and self-esteem do matter.


How big a hole would it put in the NRA argument if we simply gave grocery money to both the still existing "subsistence hunters?"


American statesman...oxymoron?


From an interview; You speak to your dog in "Blackfoot" but not your cat, why?
Cats don't speak "Blackfoot", they speak cat!


Even as I age, I still want to do the same things I used to. Many of which I couldn't do then either. Proving that ability trumps age.


My Mother's generation was the last to have a significant number of non-drivers. And, my generation, the last to remember that!

The bible makes fascinating reading. In it you discover that Moses may have preceded Native Americans on a "vision quest!"
Today, a thirtyish jogger pushing a three wheel pram would toss him a bottle of Gatoraid and destroy the whole image!

Bad memories serve no good purpose. I have so many more good ones that shunting the others aside is a "no-brainer!"

Friday, October 4, 2013

It's a novel approach

Can you learn from reading novels? Most lit classes are based on well known novels, however I am aiming this a smidge lower. Mystery novels...ok add whichever genre you prefer. Why not?

I like books that hold my interest from cover to cover. As of yet no text book has ever succeeded. Since I no longer make that attempt, they never will"make my day!" Mostly the setting is where I learn from. Different locals, unknown practices, beliefs, similarities I was unfamiliar with or customs unaware of. They all add to the enjoyment. 

The writers skill and ability to imbue life to the written word, to make his characters live...to draw you into the story do something for me that no other medium has. And, you learn because you enjoy it and want more. 

Tony Hillerman may not have been a true Navajo, but a huge number of people have a much better concept of their culture because of him. 

My answer to the question, it's a no brainer...yes. And, you will like it!

Paradise by the dashboard lights

I was a lot younger when Meatloaf sang this. Some memories fade slowly, in this case, he says wistfully, that's not so bad. Now I find myself actually reading the lyrics...for you young folks, lyrics are real words that accompany real music. Now that you are edified, I'll ramble on. The song was a bit risque at the time...that seems humorous to me now...but so does what passes for music.

His word really told a story, one which almost all of us could identify with. Bet they are still valid today. I find that I have to place value now more on my calcium level than on my hormonal balance. Automotive gymnastics hurt more now than then. The idea is fundamentally sound, but a better venue, a more comfortable one enhances the synapses so much more than a broken gear shifter.

A political truth

"Taken out of context" or as we mere citizens know it, a blatant lie...aka; political truth.

If I stand back and make an attempt at self- what do I see? Someone with a modicum of intelligence, the ability to read, an abundant curiosity and an abundant sense of the ironic. The thoughts of others can be noted as comments. Perhaps in later postings I'll address then too.

I no longer attempt to stay attuned to the daily news. To much of what we are told or hear is either filler or media sound bite material. But, even I can't escape the current fiasco taking place in our nation's capitol. The working title, if it were being cast as reality TV could be; "The Blame Game: Outcome tbd!

This is not a new concept. Go back to another century and view some of Thomas Nast's work, there was plenty to work with. And, time and place don't matter either. Caesar died at the hands of the disenfranchised many centuries and thousands of miles away.

To represent is to exemplify that which is good, in this case, our nation. Or to symbolize the merits of that  same good. In short, you need to stand for something...the something your constituents require. Not what you or your master class believe in. Belief and fact are diverse things, twisted versions one of the other. Belief proven by contortion and selective history. Hearing only what you want.

Why do we keep electing these glorified "used car salesmen" that we would not buy a car from? Is it because, just like slime they float to the top? These self aggrandizing petty despots do not represent the good of our nation or of any other nation in the world. Succinctly put, they belong under the rock they slither under nightly.

I feel totally disenfranchised because not a single person represents me. In either the house or senate. My vote does not count in this state. That is both uncomfortable and unacceptable. Twice I have voted in National elections where each and every ballot mattered, but not on the local level. Here you sell old cars, join the NRA, espouse "christian beliefs" and family traditions on your way to personal glory, aka that rock you live under in DC.

The onus of the current debacle falls on the shoulders of these same "so called" representatives. Between bouts of bickering, they are the ones that create the laws. It's their function in our tri-cameral government. So, naturally they sit looking befuddled and blame the chief executive...who can not create law. Not his job. Just another media shell game. And, we, the huddled masses wait for this latest farce to play to the end.

Remember Judy Collins aptly titled hit..."Send in the Clowns!"

Thursday, October 3, 2013

In God we trust...the do nothing motto!

Actually I prefer "One nation undivided". But,  In God we trust certainly works for our duly elected representatives, because we as citizens can't...trust them. They sit, do nothing, bicker, postulate, pose, and allow our nation to become more and more polarized. The government grinds to a halt because of them. An estimated 800,000 workers are furloughed...that's jargon for "laid off". Those are the less essential folks. The entire debacle is laughable, if you aren't one of those laid off. 

Somewhere in the last never-ending run for office some wag uttered this, we are not in the business of creating jobs. Can you think of any other corporation that could lay off that many workers and have that figure amount to less than 25% of their work force?

The best thing that the government does for its citizenry is closed and the pampered pols continue to twist in the wind blaming everyone except themselves. When one of them accepts accountability it is both collective and on camera. Self effacing and denyability at their best. Would I trade a single National Park Ranger for all of them? Every single day of my life!

Red, white, pink, black or green the color matters not. They are all wallowing in the trough of self-righteousness and creating nothing.
One group is more equal than the other because it is bigger in size, "Goofy Old Potato-heads."Are they more at fault? most likely, however the underlying fault is we elected them! Not only that, we continue to do so. It can't get better than that!  

Some look at this and think of it as a bigger, better football game. One with no injuries. If it is truly a game, I only see no winners. My children and grand-children get to live with the outcome of this fool's parade a lot longer than I will. Sadly, to them this is "ho-hum", everyday, that they are used to. Maddeningly, they are probably correct. Deplorably, it seems like a prime example of the inmates running the asylum.

My solution...can't help you, they closed all the parks except the big one in DC!

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Wishin' and doin'

If only...

Well, that won't get it done. Wishing may assist in the planning stage, when you are busy putting together the ultimate bucket list. But, when reality begins to creep in there are a few things you 'have to" do. Underline "do"! Sitting and using a hi-liter on all the wonderful new brochures feels good, but you still have all this stuff and no place for it to go. 

Two big bags gone and many more to follow. When it was two of us in a bigger place having sheets, towels, wash clothes, aprons, pillows, place mats, blankets, napkins, etc for a gang of people made a bit more sense...you never know when the entire Salvation Army might come to visit. Try fitting all of that into an RV. The dealers do not want to touch linens, bottom line, they don't sell. I am giving them away, but that to requires physical activity, the thing we laughingly refer to as work. 

My next thing to attack is the attic and all the ornaments we amassed for the holidays. This is one I dread. Sentiment aside, it is easily 115 degrees up there. And, this group of possessions will be going to the auctioneer and soon. I can quibble and vacillate, perhaps procrastinate, then for certain I'll just be too late. Looks like this is a box or two per day until done, and done it must be!

There remains a full garage to deal with after that. The inside of the house is already set...I don't have to do anything except make a final phone call to the dealer and pick up a check. Somehow I still find time to get the two vehicles into a garage so that I can leave more money with my "best friends", Scott, Janet and Jason. 

Someday, soon this new program will get underway. Me and my wallet are looking forward to that moment.