Sometimes One Isn't Enough

Most everyone would probably agree that one of me is enough. Lately I'm wishing there was more than one. My father died almost ten years ago and I'm an only child so it's just me and my mother.

When I picked Mom up to take her to lunch today she was really dragging her butt. Unsteady on her feet, she was just about shuffling along. Her voice was weak and she seemed fuzzy headed, all classic signs, for her anyway, of depression. On the way into the restaurant she came close to taking a spill. If I hadn't been right there, she would have gone down.

We had lunch, walked around HomeGoods for a while where she pushed the shopping cart to keep her steady and then stopped at the supermarket where she waited in the car. She was mostly along for the ride and as the afternoon went on she seemed to become more like herself.

I made another quick stop and when I got back into the car she said, "I've enjoyed today as much as if we'd spent a week together." I thought she had brightened up a little while we were out and here was the proof.

All she needed was a little of my company. Days like today make me wish there was more of me.

Outside My Window

I can dream, can't I?

Y'all Have a Nice Night

The telephone rang last night just before 11:00 p.m. At that time of night it's never good news. We were already in bed and the phone is on Paul's side so he answered it.

After listening for a few seconds, he asked who was calling. The caller didn't answer, just said he was the man Paul told to call a couple weeks ago. After another few seconds, with some very carefully chosen words, Paul gave him some ideas for what he could with the rest of his evening and hung up.

It rang again. Being the curious one that I am, I reached over Paul and grabbed the phone. As politely as I'm sure he could, the man asked to speak to my husband. After hello, I never said another word. I just listened carefully because I was sure the information was important.

He went on for a minute or two offering to come by and do some renovations to the house in what sounded like a rather messy and violent way. For whatever reason, he sounded upset. Poor guy, he seemed to have a rather limited vocabulary. He used several of the same words repeatedly. I listened for a few more seconds, and hung up.

We don't have caller ID so we didn't know what the number was. After the second call, I used the *69 feature on the phone and got the number. It was from the area code 876.

This morning I Googled area code 876 and found lots of information about the scams that come from that area code which originates in Jamaica.

If you get a call from that area code asking for a return call, don't do it even if you are as curious as I am. Apparently, depending on what long distance carrier you have, the charge for the call can be anywhere from $2 to $25. I don't know if that part is true but it seems like no legitimate calls come from area code 876.

There can't be any charge for an incoming call but unless you have a few minutes and would like some entertainment, if you see one of these numbers come up on your Caller ID, you might want to let it go to the answering machine.

Y'all have a nice night now, too.

You've Got a Friend

Today is my birthday. I got an email from an old, an older friend, although not much older, that said, "Welcome to the "Double Nickel Tour." So that tells you the number.

Trust me, I am not complaining. Recently there have been several people I know who will be celebrating no more birthdays. So for now, I'll take as many as I can get.

On my Facebook page it says today is my birthday. Very early this morning I started getting emails from Facebook telling me friends and family from near and far were wishing me a Happy Birthday. There were quite a few. As the day goes on, there are more and more.

Facebook makes sending birthday wishes very simple, even reminds you whose birthday it is if they have it in their profile. I am in no way minimizing these birthday wishes. It's really nice that so many people took a couple minutes out their days to say Happy Birthday. As each one arrives I take a minute and think about who sent it.

The message that really got to me, choked me up a little, was this from Janice, "Happy Birthday Sandy! Beautiful person and great friend! Have a wonderful day!" In those few words, she just made my day in a way she probably didn't expect.

Thanks, Janice. Thank you everyone else who thought of me today.

Get Out of My Chair

I have a chair. My very own chair. I've never had a chair before. I like it.

I mentioned the new/old black leather chair in my living room post. I bought it from a couple who were selling their condo including much of their furniture (the cars in the garage, too) because they were moving to San Miguel Allende, Mexico. Forever. How cool is that? They began vacationing there a few years ago, fell in love with the people and city and decided it was where they wanted to retire. I have no desire to live anywhere as an expat but this sounds very romantic.

They had very interesting pieces so when I heard they were selling and had made a list of things they wanted to get rid of, I grabbed a copy and put my initials on several. I thought my favorite was going to be a print of two leopards which is hanging in the living room but I believe it's going to be my chair.

A black leather recliner that swivels. It's very soft and comfy, and they only wanted $75. A real bargain. I said I'd buy it before I knew where we would put it. It fits fine in the living room.

Paul has always had a chair. I have always had to sit on a couch which meant I usually laid down and fell asleep watching television or reading. He has a recliner in the den and had another chair and ottoman in the living room. The chair and ottoman were unceremoniously thrown out on the lawn a few months ago because they belonged in the trash. While looking for new furniture we found a beautiful brown leather recliner which he has claimed.

MY chair fits right by the fireplace and an electrical outlet for my laptop. A side table with a lamp and place for my wine glass or tea mug sits close by.

So now I have my very own chair. And nobody better sit in it.

The Living Room is Done!

I wrote about the snail's pace we work at when getting home renovation projects done and the difficulty I've had finding furniture I can live with for the next 15 years. Finally, finally the living room is done!

Most of our projects begin with demolition which I love to do. Give me a hammer, a screwdriver and a pry bar and I'm having fun.

Here I am taking the shelves on the side of the fireplace out. They were made out of the cheapest pine and plywood money could by. I think they may have actually been scraps. I've hated them since the day we moved in 25 years ago. I don't know how I lived with them. Finally the project begins.

In August we had the windows in the house replaced which meant the woodwork had to be painted. One thing led to another. The woodwork was done, then the walls, crown molding was installed. I also decided to have some cabinets installed where the old shelves had been. See how dark the trim is stained? Lots of work to paint that white.

But I did it! And it came out beautifully. Now the wall paint, easy compared to the trim.


See the maple cabinets by the side of the fireplace? Much better and more useful than those old, nasty shelves.
Here's the finished product. I am thrilled with how it came out. It's not a big room anyway, and now it's very cozy and comfortable.


The table in the back left came from a friend's grandparents' house. It was heading to the trash, and I took it intending to paint it. The top was in bad shape but when I took a good look, I realized it was curly maple and the veneer appeared to have come from one board and was pieced together beautifully. The top couldn't be saved but the drawer fronts were in nice condition and both brass escutcheons and pulls were intact. So I painted all but the drawers.

I found the black leather chair in the lower left corner in a client's house. They were moving to Mexico and selling most of their things. I bought some artwork and the black chair. The chair is all leather in perfect condition, and I got it for $75. Don't you just love a bargain?



With the exception of a new cocktail table yet to be located, it's done. It only took five months, a snail's pace.

Just When You Think You've Seen It All

Ask any realtor, and they'll tell you how difficult our business is right now. Lately the time it takes to get a transaction to the closing table probably pays me less than I could have earned bagging groceries.

But it's what I do. I enjoy it, and it's never boring. I meet new people all the time and some are more interesting than others. We all talk about our "war stories." You'll hear a Realtor say, "That's another chapter for the book."

Last year I worked as a buyer's agent for Dave and Lisa, both in their 30's. Dave was sort of a rough-and-tumble kind of guy and Lisa, well, Lisa was interesting. Very pretty, usually blond, I'd guess she was a size 0 or maybe a size 2.

Despite being so tiny it was obvious she'd had some "enhancements." You just don't naturally get those things with such a tiny body. And because it was during the hottest part of the summer, she didn't always have many clothes on. She wasn't working at the time and over the course of time mentioned several places she had lived.

We looked at many, many houses over a couple months. At the end of our appointments we usually stood outside somewhere sweating in the heat talking about everything. They thought I was cool and we got along well. Dave and Lisa are big animal lovers, especially dogs. In addition to raising dogs, Lisa loves snakes. (I saw that shudder)

When she first mentioned her snake, I know she was watching for my reaction. She didn't get what she was expecting because I'm not afraid of snakes. Of all the reptiles people tend to keep as 'pets' I prefer snakes to iguanas, lizards, etc. So after that I heard lots of stories and saw pictures of Bee, their 3' ball python.

One day when they came to look at some houses with me, Lisa was an absolute wreck. Bee had gotten out of her cage and was lost. She eventually showed up a few days later when she crawled into Lisa's lap as she sat on the floor.

Another day Lisa came to look at a house carrying a little leather clutch. She also arrived that day with pink hair. Inside the purse was, you guessed it, Bee. It was surprising how small she was all curled up in there. While we were in the house, Lisa started to take Bee out to show me. I suggested she leave her there until we got outside. I could just envision the snake getting lost in that house.

Once in the yard she brought Bee out. I thought the other agent was going to have a heart attack. He raised his hands like he was being held up at gunpoint and stumbled backwards to the fence on the other side of the yard shouting "I don't like snakes!" It was funny at the time. The next day I got a text from the agent asking "is your client interested in the house or did she slither off to another one?"

Finally we found THE house for them, a very nice little cape in a real "Leave It To Beaver" neighborhood. I wonder if anyone had a pet snake in Mayfield. Wasn't that the name of Beaver's hometown?

Lisa brought Bee to my office to sign the sales agreements. Fortunately it was after business hours. The three of us sat there at the conference table with this snake slithering all over it. There was a pen holder in the center of the table that she kept going into. It was pretty interesting to watch her. It was only the second time I'd had a chance to handle a snake. I drew the line when she tried to go up my sleeve.

When I called to tell them when and where the closing was going to be, I told Lisa, "Don't bring Bee." She did bring a photo of Baby B, the newest member of the family, a Ball Python Morph. You can't make this stuff up.

The day that Lisa brought Bee to our appointment to see that house, as usual we stood on the sidewalk outside chatting while Lisa brought Bee out of her purse and wrapped her around her neck. So there I am, standing on a city sidewalk talking to a woman with pink hair and a snake wrapped around her.

Did I mention that Lisa told me she 'danced' for 15 years in LA and Vegas? Surprise, surprise. I had her pegged for a stripper the first time I met her. I guess snakes and dancing often go together. That's what Paul told me anyway. I'm not sure how he knows.

I haven't talked to Dave and Lisa since they closed on their house last fall. I need to give them a call and find how everyone is adjusting to the new place. Told you we have great stories. And, no, you can't make this stuff up.

Feeling Useless

My first thoughts this morning were of my friend and colleague, Katie. I have known Katie for several years and just over two years ago I joined the real estate office she was already with.

Everyone likes Katie. You never know what she's going to say, often a little off-color but always funny. Her humor is at no one's expense except maybe her own.

Those of us who work with Katie know that her family has been going through some rough times. Her husband lost a big job a few years ago after 30+ years with the same company. Despite efforts to find another job, in this economy it's been a struggle. He's gotten close a few times but each time the opportunity vanished.

In the meantime, Katie's real estate business saw a big dip like the rest of us. She's a great realtor and plugs along regardless. I'm happy to say that 2010 was probably her best year in a few and Gary has been doing some consulting work so it seemed things were looking up for them.

Two nights ago Katie got a call from California telling her that Gary collapsed and died. He was there on business, couldn't get a flight home due to weather and had been on the golf course when it happened.

I got a call early yesterday morning from another friend on vacation in Florida. The minute I heard Janice's voice I knew something was seriously wrong. When she told me that Katie's husband had died suddenly, I was stunned. We talked a few more minutes but soon had nothing more to say. What could I do? How could I help? I felt totally useless.

All through the day Katie and her two sons were on my mind. I went to her Facebook page and saw that she had posted a message saying she had lost her best friend in the whole world. Friends and family all over posted condolences and offers of support and help, and I added my message. Useless as it seemed.

Although I wasn't surprised to see all the postings, it still amazes me that we are all using Facebook to reach out to each other in good times and bad. I'm not one who believes this means we have lost personal touch, at least not within my generation. In the coming days and weeks I'm sure many of those people will be reaching out to her physically and personally. But I still felt powerless and useless.

This morning as soon as I woke I thought of Katie. As I lay there listening to my own husband still breathing the soft sound of sleep, my eyes filled with tears. I slid my foot back to touch him. I thought about what it would be like if he wasn't there for that touch.

Then I got up, came downstairs, started the coffee and began pulling things out of my kitchen cabinets. Before Paul got up I had a batch of brownies and a cake in the oven. After an appointment this morning I'm going to stop by the supermarket and get the makings for a big pan of chili and bring it all to Katie's family.

Suddenly I don't feel quite so useless.

Postscript: Katie was really pleased when I showed up with my care package. And it made me feel good, too. Such a simple thing to do, to feed someone. My mother called and asked what I was doing. I told her and she said “That’s what we used to do before we got so uppity.” I thought that was very poignant somehow.

Hellooooo, Is Anybody Out There?

Where to begin? The last time I was here was Thanksgiving. The first couple weeks after that I kept thinking I'll get back to my blog soon.

Then my work with a Adopt-a-Family got really busy, then my own family's Christmas happened. Before I knew it, New Year's was here. The longer it was since my Thanksgiving post the less I thought I had to say. Imagine that? Me! Nothing to say.

I always knew I would get back here but I couldn't seem to find the time or the motivation or more importantly, an idea. I had nothing to write about and nothing I thought worth saying.

Then a few days ago I started rereading some of my posts from last year, and realized how much I had put into them and how much I enjoyed writing them. Not one to make New Year's resolutions, I decided to start the year off by getting back here. Well, it's January 11 so that didn't go very well, did it?

But better late than never, I'm baaaack! The silence is deafening.

I'm going slowly here.

Adopt-a-Family had a stellar year in 2010. For the 8th year in a row we were able to help every family who applied and met the criteria. We found donors to give Christmas to 2,111 children in 1,105 needy families. We are a volunteer group of 18 people who make up the Board of Directors of our charity. That's a huge accomplishment for a small number of just regular folks. From September through December AAF takes up a lot of my time.

We were also able to raise a significant amount of money this year for our operating expenses. While our mission is to find people to provide gifts for these kids, we do have some expenses, like postage, printing, office supplies, rent and food for our volunteers during Distribution Week. We are a privately-funded charitable organization, and we rely on our donors to keep us going. So we look forward to another year of planning for Christmas of 2011. Yikes, did I say that? Christmas? Really? Now I've really scared everybody away.

Stick around and I'll do my best to give you some other stories about what's been happening in The Jungle.

A Soldier's Thanksgiving

As I worked on the sweet potato casserole to bring to Pam's this afternoon, I listened to the television in the background. A broadcast from an American Army base in Afghanistan caught my attention.

Lester Holt was interviewing soldiers and stopped to talk to two men who turned out to be brothers from Maine. Lester asked what was going on in their house back in Maine. They hesitated a little then answered Dad's probably asleep being tired after his early morning hunt, Mom's working in the kitchen and Gram's on her way down.

Those words just hit me right in the heart and tears started. You see, my husband Paul hasn't come home yet from his morning hunt, we called my beloved grandmother Gram, and my whole family is from Maine.

Unless we have a loved one serving overseas most of us are not even touched by the wars going. Please stop and give thanks today and say a prayer for these brave men and women who are so far from home and their families.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Author, Author!

I have been part of a book club for almost 10 years. I read early and have always loved it. I read every Nancy Drew book on my 3rd grade teacher’s book shelf and read a whole series of historical biographies when I was about ten. Whether I’m eating my breakfast or watching a movie at home, I have something to read in front of me, even if it’s just the cereal box.

However, Pam, my stepdaughter, puts my reading to shame. Remember calling someone a book worm? If you look up book worm in the dictionary, Pam's picture is there. She reads an incredible 100 books a year. She also works in a library which should surprise no one.

Pam has been involved with book clubs for years. When she and Geoff and the girls moved back in 2001 after 14 years in Arizona, she started a group here. I am part of the original group. Over the years we have had some people come and go but a core group of us have been together for several years now. Right now there are ten of us. We meet monthly at various local restaurants and make an evening of our meetings. We take turns bringing books for the group, and we vote on what we want to read to discuss the next month.

The thing I like most about being part of a book club is it makes me read books I would never have found or thought I'd enjoy. None of us enjoys every book, but we all make an effort to read the monthly selection. We’ve had some really good discussions, and I think each of us remembers the book we disliked most rather than one we loved. I think our best discussions have been about books we didn't like although seldom do we all dislike the same book. Our tastes in reading vary quite a bit which keeps the selections interesting.

The November selection was The Red Thread written by Ann Hood. Pam often goes to book readings by authors visiting the area. Recently she and Colleen, another long-time member of the group, attended an event featuring Ann. I’ll let Pam tell you what happened next…..go visit her at Pam’s Perspectives to read all about it.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

Thank a Veteran

Today's is Veterans Day.

Please take a moment and remember the American veterans serving today and in the past.

If you would like to do something for someone serving now, please visit Soldiers' Angels to find out about the many ways you can get involved.

It's a Dog's Life

Whoever came up with the saying "A Dog's Life" obviously never met Lucy. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I want to come back as a dog in this family.

Adventures in Smuggler's Notch

Last week we took some time off and got some much-needed rest and relaxation at Smuggler's Notch Resort in Vermont.

Even though the leaves were past peak it was still beautiful. It was pretty quiet in the area since the summer season is over and ski season has yet to begin.

Paul and I think Vermont is the most beautiful New England state and have visited many times over the years. This was our first time in Smuggler's Notch and were not disappointed.

Here are some photos taken from the deck of our condo.



Cresting at 2,162 feet is spectacular Smugglers' Notch Pass, a notch notorious during Prohibition as a smuggling route from Canada when our friendly neighbors to the north sent down some of the stuff they thought we Americans were being deprived of. There are little rock caves all over the notch where the illicit booze was hidden. Hikers today are still looking for long-forgotten stashes.

The drive through the notch on the way to the resort was narrow and filled with windy turns with outcroppings of rock everywhere. We woke to a dusting of snow the second morning we were there. It was sunny but cold and breezy. Paul and I decided to take a walk up the road to the notch. We parked the car at the bottom and found this:

Even though it was just a dusting below the Notch, it was reportedly icy up there and we were told the notch road was probably closed for good this year and wouldn't reopen to spring. Bummer! The drive around the notch road to get everywhere was about a 30-minute drive.

We decided to walk up the road to see how close we could get to the Notch before I collapsed in exhaustion. Here are some of the photos taken along the walk.

A vacation wouldn't be complete unless Paul played mountain goat somewhere. There was that time at Grand Canyon when he climbed down along an overlook and swung his arms out like he was falling. Another time he climbed to the top of some hill in Nova Scotia which was straight up. Here's this trip's adventure:

We didn't get very far up the Notch Road before deciding it was just too cold.

Back into the car for a drive. As we drove down the main street of Morrisville this little piece of heaven caught my eye:

I considered dropping in and leaving my card but since I don't hold a license to sell real estate in Vermont I had to pass up the option. Otherwise I would have been all over it.

Here are a few of the random shots I took as we drove along.

The Real June Cleaver

My friend Susan's mother passed away a couple weeks ago. I find it ironic that Mrs. L died just one week after the passing of Barbara Billingsly the iconic June Cleaver. Mrs. L was the real-life June Cleaver.

I have very fond memories of time spent in Mrs. L's house as a teenager. Susan and I were best friends from our early teens through our 20's. I loved being at Susan's house as much to be around her mother as to hang out with Susan.

I don't mean this as a slight to my own mother, but ours was a different family. I had responsibility and chores to do from an early age. They were good to me, gave me all the love and attention I needed but I did not get the type of attention that Susan and her brother got. The same attention I received when I stayed there. Mrs. L was always a stay at home mom. My mother worked part time in my earliest years and then full time from my fifth grade on.

Lots of the things Mrs. L did for her kids, and me when I was there, weren't the types of things that necessarily help children learn responsibilities, but her philosophy was that there was time for that. She was the kind of mother who cut the crusts off your peanut butter sandwich, picked up your wet towels from the bathroom floor without complaint, and brushed Susan's hair long after it was necessary. She just made life in general easy. Staying with Susan was a little escape for me.

I don't look back on the responsibilities put on me at an early age negatively. It was good because it made me self sufficient early and able to take care of myself, to know the real world long before many of my friends. I was married and on my own at 19, and I was more than capable.

I have so many memories of Mrs. L. I remember the glass jar of milk that was part of the lunch brought to Susan and me when we were painting the classroom for the Kindergarten class we taught in Sunday School. She put a piece of plastic wrap (we called it all Saran Wrap then) between the glass and the metal cover to avoid leaking. I still do that to this day, and it still works.

I remember in Mrs. L's closet that her shoes were still in their original boxes with a description written on the end. That was the first time I ever saw that, and I do it in my own closet today.

She was older than most mothers of the 50's when her kids were born. Mr. L was in the service during the early years of their marriage and they put off having children his discharge. She was a very pretty lady who always wore her hair in an upsweep. She went to the hairdressers weekly and slept on a silk pillow case to keep it in place between appointments. Her hair must have been long although I never saw it down.

She always wore dresses and had a beautiful smile which she wore most of the time. Although I do remember occsional exasperated moments of "Oh, Susan!" I never remember my parents taking me to Susan's. Her mother would usually drive over to my house to pick me up. She would take us to basketball games and wait for us in the car.

We were always called to meals already on the table. We never helped in prep or clean up. All this probably sounds like her children were spoiled, which I suppose they were, but it was her way of life, that's what many mothers of the 50's did. It was like a vacation for me because my mean parents made me pick up the table and wash the dishes. Certainly not slave labor but at 12 it felt like it.

The L's had a beach house which was an even better place to visit. All that pampering AND a nearby beach. It doesn't get much better than that.

It was at that beach house that Mrs. L passed away after 70 years of pampering her family. At the end Susan and her brother got to repay some of that care. But given a choice, I'm sure Mrs. L would have been happy bustling around her kitchen in her apron putting her meatloaf, green beans and baked potatoes on the table for her family.

Rest in peace Mrs. L, you were a special lady.

Wah, Wah, Wah

Seems like all I do here lately is rant. Here's another. You've been warned. You still have time to leave.

I am very slow to make changes around the house. First of all I don't really like to spend large sums of money unless it's on travel or jewelry. When it comes to that, I can rationalize anything. Paul, not so much. He doesn't like to spend money on anything.

As for the house, I am never quite sure what I want and I also hate living under construction, no matter how minor. Not that we haven't done some major renovations over the nearly 25 years here. We finished the lower level years ago and it still looks great. We replaced the kitchen and one bath. The roof is new, as is the deck and we painted the outside a few years ago. Sounds like I'm writing an ad for one of my listings.

As a real estate agent I see lots of nice houses. You would think that would encourage me to keep my own house updated. Not really. First there's the money, secondly I don't trust my own decisions. When it comes to choosing paint, furniture, etc., I'm always second guessing myself. I like it now but will I still like it next week, next month, next year? Trust me, if it goes up, it'll be there for a while.

Recently we had all of our windows replaced which meant most of the woodwork throughout the house needed to be painted. We have/had a great guy who has done all the painting and papering in our house; all of it. Unfortunately for us, Gerry has left the business and gone into another. I figured this might be the time for me to learn to paint.

Gerry does a fabulous job, no one is better. So I decided to ask him for information about how to prep and paint the dark wood that is everywhere in this house built in the 1980's. Gerry gave me step-by-step detailed instructions right down to the number of sheets of the different grit sandpaper to buy. I told him he should be teaching this.

As I was going along, whenever I ran into a point where I wasn't sure how to do something, I kept asking myself WWGD? As in What Would Gerry Do? Paul got pretty tired of me replying...."Gerry said...." whenver he offered an opinion. I have been going along very slowly and it looks great.

Our living room furniture should have been replaced five years ago. I won't go into the details of its condition because it's too embarassing but it was bad enough that one day recently Paul came home to find it on the front lawn on it's way to the street. That was the only way I could be sure I would get out and buy new.

That's generally how I get started on projects. One afternoon Paul took a nap in the den and woke up to find the shower doors on the deck. Another time he heard me yelling for help and came in to find me struggling to keep a row of kitchen cabinets up. I thought I had all the screws out of the wall and ceiling. Nope, there was one I missed and I couldn't get to it and hold the cabinets up. So anyway he knew what it had in mind when he saw the furniture on the lawn. Now I have mentioned that I really don't care to shop, furniture shopping being my least favorite. But since they won't bring the samples here I have to go there.

After a bit of looking around we found a sofa, love seat and chair that we really like. I know, very imaginative seating. Anyway, we liked the fabric on the samples in the showroom which they had in the warehouse and could deliver in two days but nooooo I had to have a coordinating fabric on the chair.

After a little time looking at fabric samples, we settled on one. The chair would take 4-6 weeks which was okay because we have other things to do. All set! Just some more paint, area rug, lamps and tables to find later. I had such a feeling of accomplishment when we left that store. In the meantime, we did find a rug and painted the walls. About three weeks ago I got a call from the store. So sorry but that fabric is no longer available. Please come in and choose another.

I wasn't happy but there was another I liked so I went back and got that arranged. Another 4-6 weeks to wait. Okay, we still have some things we can do. I'll be patient.

You guessed it. The sales person called last night to tell me that she had made an error and that fabric was for pillows only and couldn't be made into a chair. I really don't understand that but I don't care about the why, I'm just pissed that I have to make another trip there, for the third time, and choose a fabric I didn't really want in the first place and wait another 4-6 weeks.

I told her I would probably cancel the whole order, and she said she understood. I won't but at the moment I was considering it. I did tell her that if we find a third fabric which will now be okay rather than what I really wanted, I would be looking for some 'consideration' on the pricing. Oh yes, I understand. Maybe we can give you a gift certification towards a future purchase. Are you kidding?! Like I'm ever going to buy anything there again? No, I said, you can take some money off this purchase. That remains to be seen, of course.

So now this afternoon we are planning another trip back and I have a feeling I'm not going to be as pleasant as I was the other TWO times I had to do this.

If you are still with me, I'm sorry about the wah, wah, wah. But I bet you've been there, done that. Ain't service and quality control just a real treat now?

Um, Like, I mean, Like Um, Ya Know Like, I mean

Recently I've had several conversations with a woman who says I mean at least three times in any sentence. In between I mean she sprinkles Um, Like and then, of course, Um Like. I know that some teenagers tend to use like and you know a little too often but this woman is 50-some years old.

Conversing with her is downright painful. I want to scream Get to the point! She's a business associate so she's not someone I can take aside and gently suggest she not speak until she has her thoughts more composed.

I don't sound like William F. Buckley but I have worked on my speech for many years. I am a born and bred New Englander, specifically Rhode Island. There are several different accents to be found in this one little state of only one million people. Most are not very pleasant to listen to and often ridiculed, usually by the rest of us.

I have tried to 'neutralize' my accent. I focus on pronouncing the G's in words ending in i-n-g. I try to put my R's where they belong and keep them out where they don't belong. My favorite example of both is Columbee-er Rivuh. Seriously, that's how many RhoDyLanduhs say Columbia River. I could go on and on with examples of some of the funny ways we talk but you would think I'm being unkind; probably funny but unkind.

While traveling in the U.S., we used to say that we're from Rhode Island, now we just say New England. I got tired of being asked "Isn't that an island off New York?" No, you geographically-challenged dumbbell, that's Long Island.

In my real estate business I often meet relocation clients; people who come from all over the United States and abroad. Eventually the conversation comes around to where I'm from. Usually when I say I'm a native Rhode Islander I hear "You don't sound like you come from Rhode Island." I usually say, thank you, thank you, I have worked to NOT sound like a Rhode Islander.

I used to have a friend who grew up in Brooklyn, New York, whose accent I found kind of cool. He knew I had worked on my 'accent' but every once in a while, usually when I was in a rant and got 'tawking' fast he would start to laugh. "What are you laughing at?" "You sound like you're from Rhode Island!"

Well, um, ya' know, like sometimes I just can't like help it.

You Just Can't Make This Stuff Up

Report: Woman eating pig's feet in bed cuts friend

The (Rock Hill) Herald
Posted: Tuesday, Sep. 14, 2010

Rock Hill, S.C. -- A woman who was eating pig’s feet in bed accidentally cut her friend in the arm, police say.

The 52-year-old Rock Hill woman told police she accidentally cut a friend in the forearm with a knife around 10:30 p.m. Sunday. Both she and the victim, 50, were intoxicated, according to a Rock Hill police report.

He had a deep cut to his arm. The report did not state if he was hospitalized.

No charges were filed, but the incident remains under investigation.

As Good An Excuse As Any

We have to take a vacation. We don't want to but we have have to. Yeah, right.

A couple years ago I did kind of a dumb thing. I bought a time share in Duck, NC, on the Outer Banks. A second one. I bought the first time share in Kitty Hawk, NC, on eBay sight unseen. It's what they call a 'lock out' unit. There are actually two individual units separated by a locked door and in total it sleeps ten.

You can use either one side or both at the same time. If you only use one side, you can 'bank' a week in lieu of using it but they have to be used within two years or they expire. You can save it to trade for another week somewhere. Theoretically you can trade for stays all over the world, but it's easier said than done to find a place where you want when you want but it can be done.

Anyway, I bought the first one on eBay for a pretty good price considering the people we bought it from probably paid eight times the amount we did. It's the week of Memorial Day in May, and we've been three years in a row. We love it. We begin to look forward to it about the middle of winter.

After our first stay I immediately when to eBay when we got home to see what else was for sale in the area. There was another time share for sale in Duck at a resort right on the water, not quite as nice but a great location.

This is the second week of October. I paid $157.50 for another lock out unit, another possible two weeks annually. Seriously $157.50 for a deeded time share which means it doesn't expire like some do after 20 years. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now we have four weeks and we can't seem to use them.

There is some flexibility. You can use them, or rent or give them away if you can't use them yourself. We have offered weeks to several people over the years but no one has taken us up on it.

A few weeks ago realizing we need to use it or lose it before the end of October, we started looking for a place to go. We don't really want to fly which limits us. I went to the RCI site, which is the company we use to bank and trade, and began to look for a place in New Hampshire, Vermont or Maine.

I found a week at Smuggler's Notch Resort in Vermont. It's costing us $179 for a week at a very well-rated resort with two beds, two baths and a fully-equipped kitchen. It's a big time share spot but you can rent there and a week could be as high as $1,000.

I think the fall colors will be gone but it's a nice location with nearby places to visit. It's near Burlington which is a college town. Stowe is close which is a pretty New England town. That's the home of the Trapp Family Lodge. Remember the vonTrapp family from the Sound of Music? It's an area we've visited many, many times but not recently.

So darn! We have to go away. It's rough but someone's got to do it.

I Blog Therefore I Am?

That's a question not a statement. Over the last few months I haven't been blogging much. This is due to several things; I've been busy, it's too hot, nobody cares. Pick one.

The main reason is that I started questioning why I blog. When I started 18 months ago I really had no idea why I wanted to write a blog. I don't have any definitive answer even now. But I know I enjoyed it and still do but I really began to ask Does anyone care? Does anyone really want to know what I think?

Then I began to miss it. And I realized I wasn't writing for anyone but myself. I did/do enjoy the comments people leave but because I don't spend nearly as much time visiting other blogs, my traffic has slowed down and so have the comments. That's okay. I like to hear myself talk.

I do know that some people are paying attention to my blog(s), there are four now. Seriously, I'm not kidding, four blogs. Recently the IT director for our agency, Tom, planned a tech panel for the quarterly company meeting. I was really flattered when Tom asked me to sit on the panel and talk about blogging.

There would be seven agents with certain knowledge of technology speaking about their areas of expertise. Tom actually called me a blogging expert. Whoa! I'm not an expert on anything but I have gathered quite a bit of experience with blogging recently. Despite being a little uncomfortable speaking before large groups, I said yes.

There were seven of us on the panel and the other six all had some really interesting things to offer. I'm sure we all learned some new things. I happened to be the seventh to speak. By then I saw that eyes had begun to glaze over so I cut my comments short.

I told them that Blogger is my format of choice because of its user-friendliness especially because I have no technology background. I talked about commenting and followers and about the difference (for me) between business related blogs (like my real estate blog) and personal blogs. I also spoke about the blogging community and about the blog Words of Wisdom that I was part of developing.

After I was finished Tom told the audience I was being modest about my blogging and that he thinks my designs are terrific. He also said that I have achieved some of the best search engine optimization he has ever seen. A year ago I didn't even know what search engine optimization meant. I'm not even sure I know now. Whatever it is, it was an accident.