And So It Begins!

Those of you who read my blog know that we had to say goodbye to Fresca the Wonder Dog, our faithful American Eskimo dog, this past spring because of severe congenital heart disease.  At the time, I swore I would never have another dog.  But the ensuing months have really shown me just how big a hole her absence has left in my heart and our home.  The house has been SO quiet with just me knocking about in it every day while the Commander is at work.  No little white shadow trailing my every step.  No smiling face looking out the window as I pull into the driveway from running an errand.

I guess that's why I had begun pining for another dog.  I was SERIOUSLY pining by the time my birthday rolled around.  I'd been researching so many breeds and talking with my kids.  I knew I wanted a dog that would be good with other dogs (since I have two granddogs and one grand-cat) and good with kids because of the occasional visits from Spud and Sweet Pea.  The Commander finally agreed that I could have another pet but he wanted a smaller dog, one that didn't shed as much as Fresca, and one that was friendlier to other people.

In the meantime, my friend Judy was looking for another dog to add to her family.  She already has a cute-as-a button West Highland Terrier named Sadie.  I had been considering getting a rescue greyhound (now out of the running since the Commander didn't want "big"), Havanese, or poodle mix dogs.  Judy had been advocating Westies to me.    When Judy mentioned that her breeder had some adult females available for adoption and that she was going to drive up with Sadie to see if there might be one that would be a good match as a sibling for her dog, I jumped at the chance to go along with her.

I had also promised the Commander that I would NOT bring a new dog into our home until after my trip to Texas in September.  Well, this ruled out my adopting one of the adult females.  However, in my own communication with Judy's breeder, I found out that a litter of puppies was soon to be born and would be available to go home in October.  The timing would be perfect.

That's how we found ourselves making the LONG drive to the breeder outside of Punxsutawney, PA the other day.  It couldn't have been a nicer day with cool temperatures, blue skies and no humidity.  Oh, Abercrombie!  To make a long story short, there was only one adult female left who hadn't yet been adopted but she didn't seem very interested in Judy or Sadie.  There were two more families coming to see her so I think there is a good chance that she found her forever home.  Judy, on the other hand, has decided to get a puppy from the same litter that I'll be getting my puppy from.  Yay, we will have siblings.

On the way home, we stopped in Punxsutawney to have a picnic in the little town park.  The library is right next to the park and the famous Punxsutawney Phil, the groundhog lives at the library.

This is all we could see of Phil, who must have a "Mrs." because there were two of them in the burrow.  What is extra cool is that there is also a big picture window inside the library in the children's section where the kiddos can watch the groundhogs while they are visiting the library.

Speaking of watching groundhogs, Judy's granddaughter and Sadie were certainly enjoying watching those two critters.  I think we were all hopeful that they'd wake up and do something.

They never DID do anything but snore so instead we just posed for pics to prove that we'd actually seen a famous groundhog.

Luckily there was a statue of "Phil" that was a little more cooperative when it came to posing for pictures that  looked more interesting.  As a side note, if you ever find yourself in Punxsatawney, PA, stop by the library and check out Phil.  If it's a nice day, have a picnic.  There are benches scattered about in the park if you don't feel like sitting on the ground.  Bathrooms are in the library and it's a nice library worth checking out also.

So now the waiting begins.  The pups are due to be born in about a week.  At five weeks we can go up there and have first pick of which ones we want.  I'm hoping for a male and Judy is hoping for a female.  I'll be in Texas at the five week point so most likely Judy or the breeder will have to pick one for me unless the Commander wants to go up there with Judy and do the picking.  What I'm busy doing now is picking a name.  Oh, boy....is that fun.  But that's a subject for another blog post.

Pampered, Hershey-Style!

Yesterday daughter Laura came up from Maryland and off we went to the Spa at the Hotel Hershey for a day of pampering.  It was her Mother's Day/birthday present to me and I was so looking forward to it.  I have several friends who treat themselves to a day at this spa occasionally and they always rave about it so now it was my turn.

We arrived bright and early (two hours before our first treatment was scheduled) so that we could enjoy all of the guest facilities while we waited.  One of the spa concierge staff checked us in and then called for a staff member to show us the facility.  Her first stop was at the lockers where we'd be stowing our personal belongings, including clothes.  She WHIZZED through the instructions on how to set the locks and then started off to show us the steam room.

"Um, excuse me!  Could you go over that again?  I didn't quite get how to do that," I said.

She went over it again.  Pick a four-number code and punch it in AFTER you hit the letter "C" and then punch a key symbol.  AARGH!

"Why don't we slip our purses in the lockers now?" Laura said.  "Then we won't have to carry them around for the rest of the tour."

I could feel myself start to panic.  Honestly, my mind went blank.  I couldn't come up with a four-number code for the life of me.  Laura already had her purse put away and her locker locked back up and was staring at me while I gazed at my control panel, hoping for some inspiration.  I couldn't imagine how I was going to remember some random number when I wouldn't have my phone with me that had my trusty password program on it.  That's the only way I keep all those codes and passwords straight.

I finally keyed in my birthday plus an extra digit and whispered it to Laura.  "You'll have to remember it because I never will," I told her.

"Sorry, chemo brain," I told the bewildered tour guide.

After the grand tour, we changed into our swimsuits and put on our spa bathrobes, slipped on our spa sandals and then headed off to the indoor pool.

"Why are you walking like that?" Laura asked me."

"These sandals are killing my feet, especially my broken toe."

"Then go back and ask them for bigger sandals."

"It's not that they're too small.  I have to push my foot way off the end to keep the strap from cutting into that little toe," I explained, shuffling along like someone from Sing Sing.

Laura quickened her pace and I shuffled dutifully behind and found an empty chaise by the pool where I contentedly read my Kindle while she swam laps.

 After a refreshing swim, we sat in the steam room for awhile and then went back to the lockers (yay, I remembered the blasted code) where we took off the swimsuits and put on our underwear, wrapping ourselves in the bathrobes again.  Then we headed upstairs to the "Quiet Room" to lounge until it was time for our massage.  Oh, boy, the Quiet Room was stocked with coffee, tea, hot cocoa, and chocolate muffins.

We joined others lounging about and I settled down with coffee and muffin to do more reading.  Oh, oh....the blasted bathrobe was too skimpy.  It simply wouldn't cover my hips when I crossed my legs.  I struggled with it for awhile and then decided I would shuffle downstairs and ask them for a larger robe.  Off I went and they brought me one that fit great.  A bonus was that it had pockets, which the other one didn't.  Of course, I got lost several times on my way back to the Quiet Room before a helpful staff member turned me in the right direction and I was able to find my way back to Laura.  "How did you rate pockets?" she asked.

Massage time!  Our technicians came to get us and led us to our individual massage rooms.  My technician showed me where to hang my robe, told me to take off my bra and panties and then slip under the covers and she'd return.

"Um, I'm not wearing a bra.  Did you say to take off my underpants?" I asked her.

"You don't have to if you are uncomfortable with that," she answered, "but I prefer to do a massage without them on."

Okey dokey!

When Laura and I met back in the Quiet Room after our massages and were comparing notes, I told her, "The massage was fine but I was a little surprised that she had me remove my underpants."

"WHAT?" said Laura.  "I NEVER remove my underpants.  How do you always end up with the kooks?"

"I don't know," I replied.  "I thought maybe it was the new trend in massages.  How should I know?"

Poor Laura!  We headed off to the Spa's cafe for their brunch.  It was delicious.  As we sat there eating and chatting, our conversation strayed off on the topic of television.

"People have to be careful what they watch.  What you hear will eventually make its way into your conversation," Laura was telling me.  She leaned forward and whispered, "Just the other day, Jason actually said 'C-R-A-P' when he got frustrated at something.  I told him to stop that."

I looked at her.  "What did he say?"

"He said the 'C' word --- 'crap'."

"Crap?  Shit, that's nothing," I replied.

"MOM!" she wailed.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Laura.  Who are you, Mary Poppins?  I say 'crap' and 'shit' although I usually say 'shit' in German and hope no one speaks enough German to understand it.  Where I draw the line is that I don't say the "F" word or take the Lord's name in vain," I told her.

"Well, that is just wrong," she sputtered.

"I suppose you won't like my new bumper sticker either, then.  It says 'If knitting were exercise, you could bounce a quarter off my ass.' , I told her.

"You put a bumper sticker that says 'ass' on your car," she said, horrified.

"I sure did.  I think it's hysterical.  AND I even drive that car to church," I retorted.

"MOM!" she wailed.

"You know, you are going to be one of those people that gets old and gets dementia and then all of these things that you've bottled up all of these years is going to come boiling over and you're going to have the biggest potty mouth ever," I told her.  "I, on the other hand, will turn into a prim and proper old lady because I haven't held things back."

"I'm not going to get dementia," she countered.  "I do Sudoku."

"Oh, yeah, well, I do Sudoku, too, plus I play Word with Friends," I replied, grinning at her.  "Let's go hit the dessert table."

It was time for our pedicures.  Wow, we got scrubbed with cocoa bean sugar scrub, had our feet and legs painted with chocolate, then got whipped cream-looking stuff rubbed on them, and finally it was time to get our polish applied.  Laura went with a nice conservative red (no surprise there).  Here's what I choose:

We relaxed in the aromatherapy room for an hour after our pedicures and then showered and dressed for the trek home.  Before heading out, we stopped at the hotel shops and I picked up some chocolate-scented body lotion.  When you leave the Spa at Hershey, you smell like one big chocolate bar.  I wanted to be able to recreate the experience.

I gave Laura a hug and whispered in her ear when it was time for her to return home, "Thank you, Sweetie, for a fantastic birthday present.  I had a wonderful time.  Any time you want to go back to the spa, let me know and I'll be glad to join you.  We can take my car next time." (heh, heh, heh)

Scattered, Covered, Smothered.....

If you're a Waffle House fan, you probably knew immediately from this post's title that we'd be talking about Waffle House food.  Yup, those are some of the terms you use to describe how you want your hash-browns and what you want on them.  I always order mine smothered and scattered, which means that they add diced onions and they spread out the hash-browns on the grill to fry them up nice and crispy.  Yummy!

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  Thursday was the Commander's birthday.  We had decided to wait until our regular "Date Night" on Friday to go out to celebrate.  I had given him his choice of any restaurant he wanted and he surprised me by picking the Waffle House.  It's not exactly prime dining.  It's more of a little hole in the wall truck stop cafe.  No problem, though.  I enjoy their food.

We headed over and pulled into an empty parking lot.  Hmmm!  When we walked in, we were a little startled to discover that we were the only ones in the place besides the cook and two waitresses.  The head waitress (who was training a new girl) called out, "Welcome!  Please have a seat wherever you would like.  There are plenty of choices."

We sat down and perused the menu, which isn't terribly complicated.  When it came time to order, I gave her my order.

"GREAT choice," she enthusiastically said. "And for you, Sir?"

The Commander ordered.

"WONDERFUL!  That's a FANTASTIC choice," she gushed.

Gosh, it was only eggs, hash-browns, and waffles.  Maybe she was demonstrating positive reinforcement to the new waitress.

About every three minutes, she'd walk the three or four strides over to our table and ask us if she could get us anything else.  I asked for more butter.  She brought it with a flourish that would have made a magician proud.

At one point in our dinner, another customer came in.  He had dreadlocks down to his waist.  Whew!  The attention was off of us for a few minutes as they scurried over to set a menu in front of him.  I couldn't help but hear the conversation (these places are TINY).  It seems that he wanted no pork, whatsoever and the grill couldn't have any remnants of pork on it.  Oh, oh....the Commander had just had them cook up a ham and cheese omelet.  No problem!  The cook immediately started cleaning the grill.

The new customer asked, "What kind of meat is a rib-eye?"

The two girls consulted with each other.  "We're not sure but we could call the manager and ask him, " they replied.

The Commander and I raised our eyebrows.  "It's beef," I said under my breath.

They finally figured out it was beef but then he wanted to know what part of the cow the cut came from.  Oy!  Now they were really scrambling.  Before they could get too frantic, he suddenly decided on chicken.  I was happy to note that he didn't ask what kind of meat that was.

That little diversion didn't last long enough before our waitress was once again at our table.  "Can I interest you two in some dessert this fine evening?" she inquired.

Nope, we didn't want dessert; just the check which she brought to us which we then brought back to her after taking the 3 steps to the cash register.

When we walked out and got into the car, both the Commander and I started to laugh.

"Wow," I said, in between giggles," She was certainly outgoing.  I was afraid that they were going to bring out violins to serenade us if we'd stayed much longer."

"She was a little over-the-top," the Commander assessed.

"Well, I think I'd rather have a super-friendly waitress than a rude, surly one," I countered.  "Bless her heart. At least she learned what a rib-eye was today."

We're All Greek This Weekend!

This weekend is the annual Capital Region's Greek Festival, which just happens to be held just a few short miles from our house.  We look forward to this festival every year.  It's not just the fact that they have wonderful Greek food that the folks of the Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Cathedral have been cooking up in preparation for the onslaught of huge crowds that always show up.  It's also because it is a happy reminder of our time spent living in Greece and especially of the fact that we met and married in Greece.

The first thing you have to do when you get near the vicinity is find a parking spot.  That can be a challenge.  It can also result in a hike.  However, the day was a glorious one so I didn't mind walking at all.  The second challenge is to decide which venue to go to for your food.  There are food tents outside on the grounds selling things like gyros, fried cheese, and souvlaki.  There are also usually LONG lines there.  Or you can go inside the church and into the auditorium.  There you'll find the dessert counter (notice which one I mentioned first), a meal counter, and the a la carte counter.  That's the one we choose.  I picked one of my favorite dishes - pastitsio and two little tiropitas.

The Commander went with a Greek salad and some dolmades.  I wondered why he was choosing such light fare but discovered after we ate that there was a method to his madness.

Ah, yes......when we went back outside, we went in search of some baklava.  I just wanted to finish my meal with a piece of that gooey goodness.  However, all we could find was a stand selling it in bulk.  The smallest package was one of six pieces for $12.  Goodness, I didn't need it that badly.  We noticed this stand advertising baklava sundaes and just happened to walk past a lady who was enjoying a bowl of ice cream with what looked to be baklava sprinkled on top.  We asked her if it was a Baklava Sundae.

"Yes," she replied.

"Is it good?" we asked.

"Heavenly!" she responded.

That was enough of an endorsement for us so we purchased one sundae and split it between us.  I wouldn't say that it beats out a Dairy Queen Blizzard made of hot fudge sauce, chocolate chunks, and mocha flavoring but hey......the Greeks can't have everything.

It was a fantastic way to spend our date night.  All we needed was to end the evening with a stroll along the Aegean Sea.  We settled for our feet up in the recliners and "Midnight in Paris" in the DVD player, which was a cute movie.  As for the rest of the evening?  I'll just say "Opa!"

In a Parallel Universe Fog

One of my favorite shows is "Dr. Who."  I love the idea of being able to pop back and forth in time...to have that freedom to be able to go wherever whimsy (and the Doctor) want to take me.  Truth be told though, I probably don't even need a time lord to find myself wandering through universes and time.  As a writer, I find myself constantly existing on two different planes of existence.   There is the "Reality Universe" where most of my fellow travelers reside and then there is the "Dee Universe" where I am usually in the midst of creating a story in my mind OR caught up as an actor in an adventure or scenario.  I suspect I'm not alone in this and that many other creative people do the same.

It DOES have its drawbacks, though.  I tend to lose track of time.  I get so caught up in what's going on in my creative endeavors that I am often amazed to discover, at some point, that I'm still back in south-central Pennsylvania and it is past time to start supper.  I can even be having a conversation with you (well, it might LOOK like I'm having a conversation with you) and yet mentally be off doing battle with the Fey or looking for clues in a Gothic mansion or on an archaeological dig in Egypt in the late 1800's.  Sometimes I discover, to my horror, that I've agreed to do something or go somewhere and I don't have a clue what we were talking about.  Dang!

This week, I was excited to prepare for a 3-day scrapbooking retreat coming up on the weekend.  I had gathered all of my scrapbooking supplies and packed them into my carrier.  I unhooked my laptop and had that packed away and ready to go.  My suitcase was in the car.

Thursday evening I baked four dozen cookies to take with me.  Everyone who attends this retreat always brings some type of snack so that we have plenty of goodies to nosh on when we're working into the wee hours of the night/morning.

I packed up the car and set off Friday afternoon for the retreat.  I was supposed to be meeting up with my daughter at the hotel where the retreat would be held.  While I was driving down there, I decided to stop at a grocery store and pick up a few more items to snack on.  In a rare moment of generosity (clarity?), I decided to call Laura to see if she wanted me to pick up anything for her.

"Hi, Honey.  I'm on my way.  Do you want me to pick up anything for you?" I asked.

"Why," she asked.

"For the retreat," I answered.

"Oh, my gosh," she gasped.  "That's not THIS weekend, is it?  I thought it was NEXT weekend.  It better not be this weekend.  I don't have any of my pictures ready or anything."

"Uh.....let me check my email and I'll call you right back," I replied.

I checked through my old emails and sure enough, I was a week early.  Oh, for Pete's sake.  If I hadn't called my daughter, I would have driven 45 minutes down the road to the hotel and waltzed into the lobby with my bags, looking like an idiot.  I called her back and we had a good laugh.

I decided to swing by Wendy's and get some pop for the drive back to the house.  I ordered my cola, drove up to the pick-up window, and paid the attendant.  The young man took my money, handed me my drink, and shut the window.  Ummm, where was the straw?  I waved at the fellow.  He looked at me and finally opened the window.

"Where is the straw," I asked him.

"It will be in the bag," he answered, and he shut the window.

I waved at him and he looked at me again.  Finally he opened the window.

"I didn't order any food," I explained.

"Whoops, sorry about that," he said, as he handed me a straw.  He shut the window.

I waved at him again.  He looked at me and opened the window.

"How much was the drink?," I asked him.

"$1.90," he told me.

"I gave you $2.00," I said.

"Oh, for goodness sakes," he laughed.  "I'd better get my head in gear."  He handed me my change and shut the window.

This time I drove away.  It felt good to know that someone else was not quite "with it" either.  I wasn't going to tell him, though, that I had skipped ahead a whole week.  Let's just keep that between you and me, shall we?

Food, Glorious Food!

Dad prepares to carve the turkey.

I come from a family who LOVES to eat so many of our celebrations and memories have centered around food over the years.

Thanksgiving with toddlers.

Apparently my hubby came from a similar family because when I married him, he brought a whole new set of family recipes to the marriage AND his own recipe box.

Will Grandma do her usual sampling?

One of the family tricks that has provided amusement at our gatherings has been my mother's tendency to "sample" the pies when no one is looking.  We'd usually discover that she'd done some tasting when we'd go to bring the pie to the table and see that a little hole had been cut out smack dab in the middle of the pie.

"On your mark, get set....."

When all the family gathers together, we enjoy the same dishes over and over again.  If it is Thanksgiving, you get Green Bean Casserole, Hash Brown Supreme Casserole, Sweet Potato Souffle, Dressing, Mashed Potatoes, Jellied Cranberry Sauce, Turkey, a dessert salad (affectionately called "fruit compote" by the kids), and at least two kinds of pie.

We also like to photograph food.  I never realized that we did this so much until this year when my sister-in-law came around the corner and saw me setting up a shot with one of the dishes.

"Wow, " she said, "You and your brother are just the same.  He's always taking pictures of food."

I'd never realized this was unusual.  I thought everyone did this at special meals or when they make something that they want to remember.

After all, how else are you going to have bragging rights, if you don't snap a picture of that culinary concoction and then post it on your blog or up on Facebook?

I was going to ask my mom if she used to do this but then I figured out it would be pointless to do so.  After all, she was ALWAYS taking pictures so I'm sure that there was a roast or a pie in there somewhere.

I DID have to chuckle though on Thanksgiving Day when we Skyped with our son and his family in Texas.  We asked him if he had had a nice holiday with his in-laws.

"Mom," he said.  "It was a curious experience spending the holiday with a different family and seeing what  traditions they had.  And this has to be the FIRST time that I've sat down at a holiday meal where everything  didn't taste like dessert."

Yikes!  Guilty as charged.  We do have a powerful sweet tooth in our family.

Small Business Saturday

This is the first Thanksgiving holiday season that I can remember in years when I did NOT go shopping on Black Friday.  You know what?  It actually felt good to be able to sleep in on Friday and to leave the madness to everyone else.

Instead we had a pleasant day with family, eating leftovers, taking a LOT of family pictures, and playing games.  Some of us watched the seemingly endless football games that were broadcast .  It was very relaxing.

On Saturday we tried a new tradition.  I don't know if this has been going on for awhile now or if it is something new that retailers have dreamed up but local advertisers and newspapers have been touting "Small Business Saturday."  The push is for shoppers to go out and visit locally-owned businesses to do some shopping, thus giving them support and sending business their way.

We headed out to Gettysburg Saturday to drive around the National Park, doing a self-guided auto tour.  It was a lovely morning, with few tourists around and fairly balmy weather.

As the day progressed, the sky turned gray but still the rain held off and so did the wind so we were content to wander along the ridges of Little Round Top.....

To take pictures of the many monuments scattered around the park, which are amazing in their variations and meanings.....

To imagine the horror and carnage of those days in July so many years ago and the many families that suffered loss, realizing that this was not just a battlefield but also the final resting place of so many young men...

And to stop to appreciate the stark beauty of farmhouses straight out of a Wyeth painting.  I couldn't help but also think about the townspeople and the farm folk who suddenly found themselves in the middle of this horrible conflict during the Civil War.

But back to our "Small Business Saturday," after our time spent at the Gettysburg Battlefield, we headed off through the winding back roads to the Adams County Winery to do a little wine tasting.  The roads back to that little winery are so twisty that we laughed and joked among ourselves that surely this was a deterrent for those who might be tempted to imbibe too much once they arrived at their destination.  Anyone slightly tipsy would be likely to find themselves having a close encounter with an apple tree if they weren't careful.

We had a lovely time there and, by the way, I highly recommend these folks and their wine.  The wine is lovely, the vintners are very friendly and there's even a golden retriever who greets guests and has a wine named after him.  We did our part supporting a local small business and headed on home to have yet another go at our Thanksgiving leftovers.  I believe we have now set the record for getting the most meals out of one Thanksgiving meal in our household.  I don't want to see turkey or green bean casserole again for a LONG time.

Now, Which One Was That?

"I HATE the way they have those windows set up at McDonalds, " I told my husband.

He looked up from the Solitaire game he was playing on the iPad and said, "Huh?"

"I mean, how confusing can they be," I complained.  "You place your order at the drive-up speaker and then they tell you to proceed to the first window."

"So what's the problem?" he asked.

"Well, what's the first window?" I replied.  "Technically, they have you stopping to pay at the second window."

He looked at me like I was nuts.  "No, they don't," he said, slowly and clearly like he was speaking to a two-year-old.  "You pay at the first window.  It's simple."

"But actually that's the second window because you pick up your food at the first window.  The first window is at the head of the line and the second window is behind it," I explained.  "If they really wanted to be clear, they'd say 'Proceed to the first window you come to' and then there would be no confusion."

My husband shook his head.  "You're the only one who thinks like this," he said.

"Think about it," I countered.  "If you wanted to be first for something, would you want to be at the beginning of the line or at the end of the line?"

"At the beginning of the line, of course," he answered.

"So if you're in a line of cars pulling up to two windows, the first window you come to is actually the second window along the wall because the first window is the one after it, at the head of the line.You've got a whole line of cars who have to get past the intermediate window in order to get to the 'prize' window (the FIRST window) to get their food, right?" I told him.

He stared at me.  "I swear I don't know how your mind works.  Nobody else comes up with this stuff," he said.

Today I stopped at McDonalds to get a cup of their specialty coffee.  I drove through the drive-in area, placed my order, and the clerk told me to drive up to the first window.

"OK, I can do this," I thought.  "I'll stop at the second window and get it right this time."
I drove up to the window but no one was standing there.  "Aha," I thought.  "They finally got it right."
I started to drive up to the next window but some frantic motioning from the other window stopped me.  A clerk was leaning out the window, beckoning me to come back to pay.

So I put the car in reverse, backed up and gave her my money.  I toyed with the idea of going inside and telling the manager how they needed to change their instructions OR change the signage on their windows but I was too embarrassed to take the time.  I had forgotten that I still had the car in reverse when I gave it the gas to continue on to the FIRST window to get my coffee and nearly gave the guy behind me (and myself) a heart attack.

Pardon Me While I Locate My Brain

"No, no....you DON'T want to keep going!"

Something happened on my way to visit my mom in the nursing home.  I went one way and I think my brain decided to go a separate way.  You see, I was driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike just one stop over from my town.  It should have taken me about 20 minutes.  Well, you know how your brain kind of goes on automatic pilot when you're driving sometimes?  Maybe that's what happened.

"Maybe I need one of these smart cars to tell me what to do."

As I approached the exit, I noticed police cars set up at the exit ramp with flashing lights, a long line of cars and trucks sitting on the ramp and lined up all the way through the exit terminals and down to the road I wanted to go on, and a temporary electronic sign set up by the exit saying "Caution...accident.  Expect long stops."

"No problem," I thought.  "I'll just go on to the next exit and get off there and take the back roads over to the nursing home.  That way I'll avoid getting stuck in this jam."

So I sailed right past the exit and got about 200 or 300 yards past it when I suddenly realized......oh, no......I'm on the Turnpike, not Interstate 81.  The next exit isn't one mile down the road.  It's 22 miles down the road.  It's like being in a cattle chute.  You can't just turn around and head back.  You have to stay the course and keep on going until you reach the next official exit before you can loop around.  It wouldn't have been so bad except that it was a gray, rainy day, most of the leaves have already fallen off the trees, there was a mist hanging around so that there wasn't even much of a view to see, and I had lots to do at home.

I called the Commander to get some sympathy.  "Hey, it could be worse," he said.  About 10 minutes later, he called me back.  "Where are you?" he asked.

"I'm heading back now.  I finally made it to the next exit," I replied.

"Oh, too bad," he answered.  "I was just thinking that you might want to take Route 11 back when you get off the Turnpike because the exit you want will probably still be blocked."

He was right, of course, but it was too late to do anything about it.  I did the logical thing.  I sailed past the exit I wanted AGAIN and just headed on home.  I'll try again tomorrow.

"Hey, brain....where in the world are you?"

Guess my brain was lost in space today.  Thankfully Mom wasn't expecting me so she wasn't disappointed.  Luckily, I had gassed up the car the other day, too, because my tank had been rather low.  Let's hope I can figure out what road I'm on by tomorrow.  Oy!

One Take and Done

Back in my Army broadcasting days, I was known as "One Take Dee" because I almost always would nail a recording session in one take.  That trait continued during my stint in the Navy and on into civilian life.  If it required public speaking, I'd just show up and do it.  If it required any kind of sitting down in front of a microphone and reading an announcement, I didn't need ten tries to get it right.  Sit down, one take, and we were good to go.

That's why today was a little embarrassing.  I've been recording the audio for some short video presentations at our church.  I haven't even had to run my own soundboard.  Our Music Minister has been running it for me and also doing the video editing.  All I've had to do is show up, read the script into a microphone and head out.  Should be easy, right?  Today, though, it took two times to get it right.  Now, in my defense, we did some last-minute editing right before we recorded the audio.  There wasn't time to find a computer and make the changes and then reprint the script.  Instead, I had a bunch of tiny scribbles on my sheet of paper.

Maybe I'll just blame it on the fact that I was watching the premiere of Dancing with the Stars last evening.  I obviously must have had "two-steps" on the brain.  It can't be that I'm getting older or that these darn bifocals need adjusting.  Even with two takes, though, it felt good to be back behind a microphone.