Desert Magnolia

This year has been one for the record books in terms of sequential over 90 degree days for us. It's been brutal. And it persists. Today we're supposed to hit 96....again. There's a possibility but not a probability of afternoon thunderstorms.  Let's cross our fingers for those-they're much needed respite and rare indeed. Grandma Gin is now in a rehab facility in which she'll remain for a week or so. They're going to work with her so she's stable on her feet and confident in her ability to move about and generally as self-sufficient as possible given that she's not been completely stable on her feet for years and that she's 91. They seem very competent, positive, warm, and I'm guessing they're demanding, too, which is a very good thing when it comes to empowering surgical patients. More family arrives beginning tomorrow, which will be good for her and also let the hometown gang of myself, my aunt and my cousin get a little bit of a bre

G.G.'s avid about hiking, has been for years, and has recently stepped up the whole effort by going every weekend for pretty much the entire summer. The only time he hasn't gone was when he and the Daughter were on the great national park tour and soccer tournament of 2011, and they hiked then, too. Did I mention that G.G. is a coach? And is all about encouraging others to enjoy what he enjoys? And he's pretty much relentless when he decides his cause is worth sharing? Are you figuring out where this is going yet? He recruited me. Me, the trail walker/jogger/part time yogi/stair walker wife. How did he do this? Boots, of course. He bought me boots. My old ones were fine, but heavy, and old, and mostly weren't the more modern form fitted design that bodes well for funky rocky surfaces and such. New Boots that GG bought me so I'd join his hiking club. But the lite version of the club, not the 21 miles along the Crest trail club. Because when you'

Grandma Gin is a pip. She's mending, getting restless, almost headed for rehab today, has been micromanaging the medical team like nobody's business, and is, in general, heading in the right direction. Once I had taken care of a couple of her requests at lunch, including locating and recruiting the very patient and capable nurse tech who has been at Grandma's beck and call for several days now to help her back into her bed from her lunch chair, things got quiet. I turned off one of the lights in her room to make it a little more peaceful, we chatted about the clouds building in the distance, covered the stuff pertaining to her immediate comfort and forseeable future, and mostly just chilled a little. I tucked her blanket around her, and stroked her arm a bit, and could feel her relax into what would become her early afternoon nap. Before she faded, though, she said,'Honey, you're clearly working too hard. You have big dark circles under your eyes. You need

Grandma Gin is on the mend, though the whole being 91 thing does in fact play into the process. Baby Girl is fine, and in fact today they're shopping at an outlet mall, 'because we have down day and there's absolutely nothing else to do'. Alrighty then. Tomorrow they head back to RI, though they won't until power is restored at school cuz why fly from sunny NC to powerless RI? I need another weekend, but other than that, this week is upon us. And I never got that latte the other day so I may have to grab one on my way back from visiting Grandma during my lunch. Happy Monday everyone!

This Irene thing is turning out to be a much bigger deal than originally anticipated. She's 430 miles across right now, and her eye has refined and organized to the point where it appears dome like from the space stations observing it. Daughter is in North Carolina, anticipating a game in ungodly heat with 100% humidity later today, and mentioned they'd probably not be heading back to Providence until Tuesday now due to the anticipated airport closures and other havoc wreaked by this storm. Awe.some. My question is really rather simple, and has to do with common sense. (I know, I always get into trouble when I start to question decisions that have clearly been made in a common sense vacuum...). Why on God's green Earth would not just one but TWO (presumably) college educated women's varsity soccer coaches IN THE BIG EAST CONFERENCE NO LESS decide to 'play on' in spite of the fact that a behemoth of a storm is headed directly their way within 48 hours?

This isn't really one of them. Right now I'm annoyed at my Aunt who isn't answering texts from me about my Grandma's status. This shouldn't surprise me, but really? So I'm about to do some phone calling and investigating and information seeking on my own to just bypass the stupidity. How hard is it to hit Reply and say, 'She's fine, they're about to send her to Recovery', or something like that? I know. NOT hard. Also, I got a text from Daughter, who is 'safe on the ground' in North Carolina. Um, 'safe'? There's a hurricane headed that way and it's a big one. But I talked about that yesterday already, didn't I? Sometimes topics bear repeating. This is one of them. I have a headache that may be stress induced, but I'm not sure. I just ate lunch and it didn't go away so it's not a low blood sugar thing which happens too, but not today, not this time. I'm not sure which god to pray to right now,

Apparently so. Daughter's team is scheduled to fly to North Carolina tomorrow. Yes, the North Carolina WHERE THERE'S A HURRICANE ON THE WAY! Irene aka the Cat 3 bitch that's following my daughter. (Thank you NASA earth observatory for the image.) But I'm not freaking out, oh no. Not me. Not even a little. Because I know that the coaches will make the prudent decision, if warranted, and call off the games. Right? Bueller?

Grandma Gin is getting her bad old knee replaced with a shiny, new, bionic apparatus on Thursday. She's fought the good fight for years. She tried acupuncture, exercise of various types, shots of various types and anything else she could think of, including actively practicing denial for a looooong time, which was derailed by chronic pain that led to moderate depression that outed her. Anyway, it's happening. And the histrionics part? Not Grandma Gin, her dysfunctional, self-centered offspring whose meds are absolutely never in balance. Ever. And me, who's the offspring of the offspring that moved away as fast as she could possibly manage it. Like to Oregon, which followed a decade in Washington State, which followed a brief few months here at home, which followed three years in Brazil, which followed seven years in Germany. See, I'm not exaggerating this time. When my Mom decided to get out of Dodge? She went ahead and went. Which leaves me holding the bag a

Daughter played in their first game of the regular season this weekend. After endless pain, rehab, recovery, a second surgery to 'just clean up some scar tissue and stuff', more rehab, more recovery, etc. My girl is back on the field, and I realized something as GG and I were digesting the post-game stats that the college so kindly provides. I think I've been holding my breath since the day she injured her knee..holding it and praying and hoping and nurturing her and encouraging her and cheering her small victories and bursting with pride as she's worked through the ridiculous rehab that affects not just a young body, but impacts a young psyche as well. GG and I high fived when we saw those stats yesterday. The girl, well she played 84 minutes. And, she assisted in one of the two goals that was scored by her team. And, she said she felt good. Not yet at the great level, but really good. I felt an exhale, then I breathed deeply in, and realized that until tha

It has been pointed out to me that I tend to fixate. On food. On vampires. On movies. On shoes. On exercise. On writing. On life's purpose. All I have to say to that observation is, no shit. I mean, come on. Without food, vamps (and sex is intrinsically tied into that by the way, I didn't omit it by accident), shoes, working out and why we're here? What's the point? Some people. Just because I'm feeling a little obnoxious,  I'm going to share tonight's meal plan.  I think this might also prove the fixation point once and for all, in case there was ever any doubt. :-) It's been a long, weird week, so a gentle, cool dinner is in order. I think the patio will serve beautifully as the spot tonight, as dinner will be later than usual due to GG's team playing soccer down in Belen (aka the dark side of the moon) this afternoon. Chilled shrimp on ice, with hot cocktail sauce; Feta and grilled peppers (spread over the crustini); Sour

GG's first day of school went fairly well. No big crises, no drama. Which is good, because the first day is sometimes dicey. Even when you're the teacher. My day has been ridiculously productive so far, which, I have to admit, is making me look over my shoulder for the the freight train to come and derail my efforts. But so far, no train. And a lovely cup of jasmine green tea with a little bit of honey have helped me sail through the afternoon as well. I realize I suffer from a condition not unlike PTSD, though I'm hardly a soldier, I'm simply a cog in the wheel at a startup and things gets nutso and tend to change very quickly and sometimes I get whiplash and a headache but that's getting better now. Things like early morning walks/jogs on the trail help. So do strolls in the garden, sitting and listening to the pond gurgle, petting Tipper Ann until she rumbles like a little motor boat and enjoying the coolness that accompanies darkness in the high desert.

Last week during a mid-week Trader Joe's run I saw figs. Fresh ones, two types, in their produce section. Seeing them made me remember a post-wedding brunch that some friends hosted. They'd served fresh, halved figs, accompanied by brie and honey..and I think port if you wanted that, or espresso. The delicate sweetness coupled with the cheese and honey? Amazing, a memory that even after all these years remains strong. So I had the flashback/memory, but passed the figs by. Until Saturday morning. I was pleased to see they had plenty left, and they looked lovely. At the same time I purchased figs, I also grabbed proscuitto. Which I then used to wrap the figs that I'd halved, then stuffed with feta...and then I broiled them. Result? Most delicious appetizer, enjoyed on patio, accompanied by a cranberry pomegranate martini while a soft rain fell. The smell of the rain and the wet earth, combined with the earthy delicate sweetness of the figs/feta/proscuitto? A.mazing.

Apparently one post isn't going to cut it for me today. Suffice to say, my head is chock full of randomness that I'm going to share with you! You're welcome. Anyway... So you know how it feels so very cool to have a stack of unread books by the bed? And how those books all came to be on that nightstand due to recommendations from good friends/colleagues/family who immediately thought of you when they read them and wanted to be sure you enjoy them too? And that at the very top of stack is one from your very best friend ever KS who just sent a box full of books last week stacked in the order they were to be read with pink post it notes adding her special commentary? And how it feels to have a Netflix movie waiting at home that's actually most likely NOT a stinker like the last couple G.G. made you watch  you were compelled to watch? (#1 , #2 . I'm not kidding.) And you know how great it is to have an episode of your favorite sexy vampire series loaded up and

Actually, I'm ground crew for G.G. and his buddies, who have decided to spend nearly every Saturday this summer hiking. I'm on the pickup end, usually. And can I just say, some weeks are better than others. Hiking at our elevation (7,000 feet at the base of the mountain; 10,600 feet at the top) presents its own challenges, most of which the guys, who have been doing this a long time, have overcome. But sometimes one of them is dealing with an issue that surprises and annoys. Like a blister from new boots, addressed by (but not remedied-that takes a week or so) slipping on the old boots. Or like mild food poisoning that strikes about midway up a particularly steep portion of the hike and causes no end of angst, weakness, leaden legs, light headedness, and general malaise while it's running its course. Sometimes the challenges are simply about lifestyle choices made up to that point, like choosing to consume generous amounts of (fill in the blank) pizza, beer, cookies

Maybe when I retreated to the back of the house and watched multiple episodes at a time, all by myself, in the dark. You know, just to catch up with the series. Maybe when I started to understand, from both TB the series and multiple other paranormal romance novels in which vamps were often featured, that vamps can be made different ways. They're not all 'made' by the bite. Some, it seems, are in fact holdovers from Atlantis and their advanced technology involving nanos to keep everyone eternally young. Unfortunately, nanos feed off of blood cells, and most humans didn't produce enough to feed the nanos, so external blood was required, hence the birth of the vamp myth. What? I'm just sharing what I've 'heard'. And then there's the whole bonding thing. Holy gawd. If that whole 'feel what your bondmate feels at all times including when in the throes of passion' thing has any merit? I want to be a vamp NOW. Just sayin'. You'

Bear with me here, as I'm nearly at a decision point with this project. Really, I am. As I've reread and contemplated writing the finish, then going back and scrubbing and editing like crazy and generally attempting to update a piece I began so long ago, I've become exhausted. Repeatedly. Last night, in a text exchange with Daughter, I explained I'd picked up the manuscript again and was seriously thinking of finishing it. And she replied, 'Mom, you should just start something new. That thing is almost 20 years old now, and you're a completely different person than you were when you started it. Just know that I look forward to a finished project out of you one day, and really, why not go for something more current and stop wasting time on the old stuff you'll practically have to rewrite anyway? ' Out of the mouths of babes, right?

I don't have to elaborate on the fine mess we've made of our economy, or how the protracted effort by the Tea Party has distracted from so many of our greater concerns and created an opportunity for them to grandstand and make noise and add insult to injury when what we really need is collaboration. Collaboration.  Not a difficult concept to grasp, but certainly untenable when agenda driven assholes with conservative foci and a desire to destroy rather than create manage to continually burn resources that could and should be spent fixing. Fixing what has broken, rebuilding and generally redefining a new economic reality moving forward NOT belaboring old points and pointing endless fingers and refusing to assume any responsibility in the finanicial shitstorm that has ensued over the last few months and culminated in an S&P downgrade of our creditworthiness as a country and divided a house already in danger of permanent polarity. Really, Tea Party? You think by flexing yo

Not that any of you wouldn't have noticed that it's Friday, but it is. So we have that going for us. We also have overcast skies with a good chance of showers throughout the day, which is awe.some. We totally need this moisture, and even though a big cloudburst will be bad for the garage sale that GG and his mom decide to have at our house, it's worth it.  And, they'll stay cool, which is a bonus. On deck for this weekend: Run a few errands. Tidy up the house. Laundry. Work out, ideally twice. GG's dad and his wife over for dinner Saturday night. GG's mom, and requisite sisterinlaw and her fam, over for dinner on Sunday to celebrate mominlaw's bday. (But we're not sure that's going to happen yet due to a possible dance competition that will take two or more of sisinlaw's fam out of town. Not sure when we'll know for sure...) Dust off my manuscript, read it, then begin the finish. Which could take awhile, but I'm d

And since I have no free will, I sat through it. Another two hours I'll never get back. Plot summary per IMdb: Hall Pass (2011) A couple of married guys are always looking at other women, treating their own wives like trash. Their wives are fed up with their behavior, and grant them a ' hall pass ': a week off their marriage allowing them to do anything. But the guys take their time and their week is almost up. What they don't realize is that at the same time their wives make connections of their own. Really? 'nuff said. I'm tired of being snarky about movies, but giving this one a 2 on my 10 scale is a stretch. And I really like Jenna Fischer, who charmed me for years on The Office but couldn't pull this stinker out of the dumpster.

Sigh. So, Nicholas Cage can really only play one role, from what I can tell. You can set him in Medieval times, make him a passionate 'scientist' or cut off his hand and throw him into the mix with Cher and he 's still playing essentially the same role. Sometimes he's a little more angry, sometimes he's more passionate, but he's ever Nick Cage. This time he was doing his thing accompanied by Ron Perlman, an actor I've always liked for his self-deprecating humor. We have the Crusades to deal with, an epiphany for Cage when he has reached his tolerance for murdering in the name of the Church, a demonic possession eventually rectified when Cage wrestles the actual plague-inducing demon and ends up perforated by his own blades. But this sacrifice was somehow necessary, as Perlman's character, essentially Cage's wingman/right hand man, also dies by the demon's hand, only he's turned to ash. Which looks like a crappy way to die, BTW. An

Last night, around 7 o'clock, Grandma Gin called relaying potentially bad news for the monthly lunch-it might be called off due to the van being in the shop, a part being hard to find/install, etc. So we agreed that I'd assume lunch was off unless I heard from her. 1015 a.m. she called. Nothing about the van (until late in the conversation), but she wanted to know if I could 'swing by and pick her and her friend Maggie up'...on my way to the restaurant. Turns out the van is just too hard for them to navigate anymore. She mentioned how comfy my car is, and that I should just pull right up front (but in front of the van since it'll be out there too and it needs room to load up), and they'd meet me out there. How much extra time am I going to spend in Hell for being a little bit irritated that this lunch, which usually takes a whole lot longer than even a long executive lunch, will take even more time since I'm now on pickup and delivery duty? Stevie

Daughter spent the weekend at the Cape. As in Cod. She said we'd love it, should rent a house for a summer and just do it. Which made my mouth water, and my brain start to churn and scheme and begin to formulate a plan that would allow something like that to actually happen. I immediately jumped to clam bakes, bonfires on the beach, fun hikes and boating and generally enjoying being right there on the water with the ability to do as much or as little as you want. Skaket Beach Sunset (from Cape Cod Tourism site) The rentals are all family names, which I think is cool. We might even be able, if we took some friends and made a muti-family summer of it, afford it. Just maybe. But then there's the whole work thing for me, though the prospect of hanging out on Cape Cod for an entire summer? Makes me want to get really creative. Really creative. House on the beach. Oh yeah. What's not to love about that??? Ok, so basically? I'm in.