Saturday, July 23, 2011

It's Usually Nice to be Nice

Recently one of the bloggers I follow wrote about meeting some new people in Ottawa while there on business and how well they got along.

She said that she meets nice people everywhere she goes and said part of that is because she talks to everyone.

That sounds like me. Although no one ever believes me, I was very shy until my late 20’s. It’s amazing what reservoirs within yourself a divorce forces you to tap into. Today I'll start a conversation with just about anyone anywhere.

In my business (real estate) I meet new people all the time. I used to do a lot of relocation work. Not so much lately since people seem to be leaving Rhode Island rather than arriving. Often the realtor is the first person someone new to the area meets. I’ve had relo clients in my car for 4-5 hours at a time. I’ve always said I can make the smallest talk you’ve ever heard.

And because I’m often the first person they meet, I’m also the first impression of what folks here are like. We New Englanders seem to have a reputation for being cold, stand-offish and not welcoming to newcomers. I’ve never quite understood that because I just think we are the warmest and fuzziest people on earth. But I’ve heard it often enough to know that's the word on the street.

At some point in the day I usually mention that I was born and raised here. Often I hear “Gee, you don’t sound like you’re from Rhode Island.” My answer to that is “Thank you, thank you.” I have worked for years on neutralizing my RI accent for a variety of reasons, but mostly because it can sound downright dumb.

My favorite comment heard from a relo client was a woman who said “You’re not at all what I expected. You’re really nice.” She said it like she had just tasted Japanese puffer fish and found she liked it. I really didn’t know what to say after thank you. I just smiled.

What I wanted to say was “glad I could dispel that myth for you, lady. Now get out of my car and go home.” But I would have said it with a smile.


Thursday, July 21, 2011

Happy Birthday, Paul



Today is Paul's birthday. I wrote a post on his birthday two years ago. It's one of my favorites so I thought I'd repost it today. It says everything that's still in my heart. So here it is.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

So Paul runs into this couple we know from a restaurant we all like to go to. They chat for a bit and then Bentley asks Paul what he thinks his best attribute is. Paul thinks about it and says his moustache. Paul has a great handlebar moustache that lots of people, men and women, comment on.

Bentley says "No, your wife!" Gonna have to buy that man a drink the next time we see them at Joe's.


Monday, July 18, 2011

Grrroogle

I got up really early this morning all set to sit for a couple hours to read some of my favorite blogs that I have neglected for a long, long time.

I was off to a good start until Google Reader began to throw me out every time I attempted to post a comment

If I had more time and more technical knowledge I would move right over to WordPress but I don't and I don't so I'm stuck here for now.

I really miss some of you and certainly can catch up on my reading but I know I like comments to let me know who has visited so I hate to not leave a message. Oh well, I tried. I'll try again later but for now, I'm off to work.

Have a great day.



Sunday, July 10, 2011

Sleeping is Such a Waste of Time

I haven't used an alarm clock in at least 15 years. Unless I am getting on an early plane. Then I set three clocks and still wake up every hour. I probably should just stay up.

It's not that I have any real trouble sleeping. But I usually wake up about 5:30 a.m. Then my brain starts to run, and I lay there thinking about things I could be doing, lots of things I'd like to be doing. Sometimes I'll stay there and try to go back to sleep but most of the time I get up. It's my favorite time of the day. If the weather is right, I'll sit on the deck with my coffee and the dogs. Or I'll read.

Even as a teenager I don't remember sleeping late. Lots of nights when I wake up, I'll turn on my light and read for a little while until I feel sleepy again. Those mornings when I let myself go back to sleep and then wake up after 7:00 a.m., my first thought is What a waste of time.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Would You Like Some Cheese With That Whine?

The whole month of June and the first week of July have disappeared since I last posted. Paul even mentioned last week that I haven't posted in a long time. Nice to know he checks occasionally. I suppose the five of you who visit have moved on.

So where have I been? I’ve had a few ideas but nothing very interesting to say and I'm tired on whining. But the only way to really explain my absence is to whine a little.

The last few months have not been much fun. Let's see, in March I broke my wrist. After seven weeks in a brace it's healed but I still have an area that hurts, so I'm going back to have it checked. Who knows what that is?

Also in March Paul was diagnosed with a herniated disc, L4-L5. It was probably caused by a heel stomp on a frozen beaver dam last winter. Damned dam. The ground and dam weren't frozen the last time he stomped on it to break it up, so who knew?

I picture the beavers watching from across the swamp doubled up with laughter at the stupid human laying on the ground in pain after NOT destroying their dam. Yes, I know it sounds like there's a story in there. There is but for another time. Maybe that will keep you coming back.

So the orthopedic doctor said surgery was an option but there were other treatments to try before going that route. One option was steroid injections which helped ease the pain but didn't do enough to avoid surgery. So we lost a couple months there.

The surgeon needed an approval from the GP who ordered a stress test which fortunately, or unfortunately, showed two blockages. This past Wednesday, after a heart catheterization, a stent was implanted in one artery and the other was opened with angioplasty.

And I know, people say...."Oh, a stent. That's no big deal." Anytime someone is sticking a pointy thing in my heart, it’s a whopping big deal. Paul had a stent implanted in 2000 after a heart attack so he knew what to expect but this time it was more complicated. Not only because he's eleven years older, but also because he laid on the table in the operating room for nearly 4 hours waiting for the second doctor.

It went well and that’s behind him but there's still the issue of the back surgery which now can't be done for at least eight weeks. In the meantime, more damage is being done to the nerve which the doctor said is being 'crushed.' Usually you hear of nerves being 'pinched.' I'd rather be pinched than crushed. This sounds to me like it's a bit more severe.

Hopefully the next couple months will go quickly. And maybe then I won't have anything to whine about. Nah, I'll probably find something else.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Where is My Mind? I Know I Packed It

Paul and I just returned from our annual week on "The Beach" in North Carolina. For those of you NOT in the know, that's the Outer Banks or OBX. One day during the week we visited Edenton, a little town inland. When Paul asked a store owner where she lives she said 'on the beach.' Beach? What beach is near here? She meant the Outer Banks, about 90 minutes away. So now we just call it "the beach." As in, "We just got back from a week on 'the beach' in North Carolina."

I love road trips. I hate road trips. I love them because I can bring EVERYTHING. I hate them because I can bring EVERTHING. And I do. That used to mean clothes, shoes, and my lotions and potions. Now it means that plus the electronic stuff. The picture above is the inventory of the equipment I brought. That would be:

One laptop

One iPad

One iPhone

Four cameras

One PDA (I just keep it around for the old memos and numbers I haven't transferred yet. Or as a friend said "Because I like to carry a lot of shit around."

Plus all the cords, mice, thumb drives, card readers and I don't know what else.

As for clothes, I pack one suitcase but as Paul begins to load the 4-Runner, I keep tossing things in. Hey, there's room. Why not fill it?

Paul's motto always was pack light, carry money. Somehow I've just never learned how to do that. I'd rather just bring everything. And I do.


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

It's Six O'Clock. Do You Know Where Your Pets Are?

I was sitting here a couple hours ago and suddenly Rosey and Lucy ran for the slider like they wanted to kill something. There was a beautiful Husky standing on the deck looking into the kitchen.

I went out through the garage and called him off the deck and out of their sight. He romped over to me in the yard. I checked; no tags, just a training collar. I tried to shoo him out of the yard but he just wanted to play.

I've never seen him before. We live on a country road, and the houses are a little ways apart. I know all the families nearby and have never seen this dog. Paul thought he had seen him in the area but didn't know where he belonged.

I reluctantly tried to chase him out of the yard, Lucy and Rosey were still having fits in the house, but he just kept coming back to me. Finally he wandered off to the house next door where he tried to get in the door. I heard loud voices trying to shoo him away.

It seemed like he was lost and trying to find a house to get into. If I didn't have two dogs who don't share I would have brought him in while we tried to find his owner but that wasn't going to happen. Lucy the Jack Russell Terror wanted to rip his throat out. Rosey thought he was a little too friendly if you know what I mean.

Finally he wandered off. Paul called and left a message for the town dog officer. We made a couple calls to neighbors further down the road but no one knew him.

I don't see him out in the yard or around the road, and now I'm wishing he would come back. We'd keep him in the garage at least over night but now he's gone, and I'm going to worry wondering what happened to him.

A dog can wander off. That can happen to anyone. But why would you not have tags on him so that someone could find who he belongs to?

Saturday, May 14, 2011

An Aha! Moment



I can be a bit messy. There! I've said it.

Right now you can barely see the dining room table because of all my 'stuff.' But I have to give credit where it's due in saying that Paul really doesn't gripe about my messiness too often even though he's pretty organized. His brother David was here doing some carpentry work a few years ago. He needed a certain grit sandpaper and over the telephone Paul was able to tell David exactly where the sandpaper was in the green cabinet in the garage where he kept it in increasing order of grit. He's that kind of organized, in some ways.

So Paul doesn't complain often about my clutter but he has always been on my case about drawers and kitchen cabinets left open. He has bitched at me enough over the years that I make a concerted effort not to leave them open. Especially after he walked into a kitchen cabinet door I had left open and snapped it right off, not at the hinges either. Fortunately David was here and repaired it.

However, Paul is not without some organized messiness of his own. We have a wooden bowl on the island in the kitchen which is supposed to be a fruit bowl. Right now in addition to an apple there is also a deposit slip, rebate coupon for wine, several envelopes and a note about a landscaper. We actually had some bananas go bad in there last week because we couldn't see them under the papers.

This I will not take the blame for although I know he will say some of the stuff in there is mine. I wouldn't do that if he didn't start it. There is always a pile of keys, cell phone, pen, glasses and notes which do not belong to me beside the fruit bowl. Somehow some of it often migrates into the bowl.

It has come to my attention recently that leaving drawers and doors open is beyond my control.

We were watching some cop show last week and when the detectives came into the apartment of a missing person, one of them commented on the condition of the place because it looked like it had been ransacked. The other cop's response was "unless a girlfriend or wife was here." When the first cop seemed puzzled the other guy said "you know how it is, women leave drawers and doors open thinking they are coming back to it, and they don't."

Aha! You see, I can't help it, I'm wired that way.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Two Years of Scribbling

On April 9, 2009 I wrote my first post here at It's a Jungle Out There. As of today I have published 273 posts. That sounds like an incredible amount of words.

When I began I really didn't have a clue what would be or could be involved with writing a blog.

I made a pledge to myself never to write about politics or religion which I've been true to. I have written about happy times and sad times. I've written silly posts. I've used it as a place to vent, and I've often used it as a way to says thanks.

Occasionally it begins to feel like a job, and that's when I take a break. So far I've always come back.

It seems I write well enough to make people laugh a little and cry a little. I have a few regular readers, and I appreciate their loyalty.

Many followers have come and gone, too, so maybe I've bored a few. I love to hear from people through comments but in the long run, this is for me. I have a gadget that shows me how many people visit on any given day and where they came from. I can tell from locations that a few friends and family are checking in.

At the beginning of last year I found a site where you can have your blog made into a book. I did and I love it. I had another made with my 2010 posts and plan to do it every year. I think of it as a yearbook and a great way to look back. And I don't have to worry about losing my blog to some computer glitch. Here's what they look like.

Occasionally I pick one up and browse. I did that recently and found some posts I had forgotten. I thought I'd republish some of my favorites. It was difficult to narrow it down to these few but here they are.

The first one is about my friends Chet and Nellie and our search for their horse farm. Recently Nellie was considering buying another horse. The people she was buying from wanted references. She sent them a link to this post.

This one about Colonel James Kasler is one that most touches my heart. I did try to find Colonel Kasler to share this with him. I found some people who know him who I think forwarded a link on to him. I never heard from him but I hope he read it.

This is about a lecture given by Elie Wiesel. For me hearing this man speak was a chance of a lifetime. Very powerful and very important.

And this one about Ben is a happy post. I write lots about our dogs, Rosey and Lucy, but this one is about a golden retriever that I helped find a home for.

If you are a regular follower, thanks for stopping by; if you're not, I hope you enjoy.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Things That Go Bump in the Night

One of the bloggers who I read regularly wrote recently about watching the movie Black Swan and then going to bed. I haven't seen the movie, and probably won't, but I've heard it's pretty creepy. I don't care for scary movies much. I prefer to be entertained not scared.

Debby told about hearing weird noises in the house after going to bed that night. Her husband apparently sent her downstairs to find out what it was. He probably didn't hear it and figured she could ruin her night's sleep rather than his. She said the noise lasted for 20 minutes and she never found out what it was.

Regarding things that go bump in the night, Paul is just about deaf in his left ear. I learned that on our first date when we sat at the bar in a noisy restaurant waiting for our table. As we chatted I had the feeling he couldn't hear me but didn't find out for sure until later.

It's the result of shooting without ear protection. Usually when you are right-handed when you shoot a shot gun or a rifle, you use your right eye to sight on the target and you tuck your right ear into your shoulder. Your left ear is exposed to the percussion of the gun. Sounds like I know what I'm talking about. Living with a shooter/hunter for 25 years you learn these things.

He told me by the time you realize you've damaged your ear, you're saying a lot of "Huh? What?" and it's too late. So I learned early that if I want him to hear me, I should be on his right side. If I want to mumble things about him, I should be on his left.

So what ear do you think he puts to the pillow at night? The good one. Consequently he hears just about nothing. I, on the other hand, wake up when a mouse farts in the attic.

And we do have mice in the attic. And they dance above my head at night. I think they are doing the rumba.

Paul did wake up one night to find me standing on the bed pounding my fist on the wall above the bed trying to scare the mice away. I don't think they ran away. I think they just held still until I laid back down. Then they started again.

We don't have a small house. Why do they feel they have to dance in the corner of the attic above my side of the bed? Why can't they dance over the spare bedroom?

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Want To Play Barbies?

Recently someone donated a Barbie doll to us at Adopt-a-Family. We buy and give away dozens of Barbies every year so what makes this one remarkable?

She's a 1964 dark brunette swirl ponytail Barbie doll that appears never to have been out of her box. I took her out, certainly not to play with her, but to take pictures. I've got her for auction on eBay with a reserve price of several hundred dollars.

Crazy you say? Not necessarily. Recently a 1963 vintage Barbie sold for $601.99. I'm hopeful our doll will sell for nearly that much.

See the label on the end of the box? It says Sears, Roebuck and Company and shows a price of $2.19. With inflation that would be $15.79 in 2011 dollars.

If you're interested, check her out here. Or maybe you're heading to your closet to dig out your own dolls from your childhood. When this auction is over I know I am.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

What's the Buzz?

Sunday on my FaceBook (yes, I reactivated my account but am spending very little time there) I posted:

The girls are here! All 12,000 of them. They arrived yesterday from Georgia, and we picked them up today. We moved them into their new house this afternoon and hopefully they will start decorating IMMEDIATELY. Honey for everyone for Christmas!

We've been talking about starting an apiary for a long time. It's a fascinating culture. I did a little beekeeping many, many years ago but was only a helper so my experience handling the bees was limited. But I do remember lots of information about apiculture and the equipment. This spring we looked into it and decided it was time.

We took a class offered by the local beekeepers' association. We met some local beekeepers and got some recommendations of vendors of equipment and bees. We bought some hives and frames, known as woodenware, and placed our order for 3 pounds of bees. Yes, you buy them by the pound. Most of the package bees bought in this area come from Georgia.

Paul painted the hive bodies, found a spot in the orchard and got the equipment out there. We picked the bees up Saturday, and I put them in the hive that afternoon. I felt really comfortable working with them. I wore a full suit, no sense in getting stung plus the more comfortable you are when handling them the better results you'll have with them.

The colony arrives with a mated queen. She's in a separate little cage with the bees and you have to put her into the hive in that little cage. She is usually able to get out in about 24 hours. We can't open the hive until they've had 3 days to get settled and the queen hopefully begins laying eggs.

One more day and I can look to see how they are doing! Here are some photos. I'll update more as things begin to happen.

Getting the equipment ready.

Paul brought the hives out to the orchard and picked the spot.


All ready! Just need bees.


This is what 3# of bees looks like.



That's me putting them into the hive.


Come on in.


So far, so good!

Monday, May 2, 2011

What an Eerie Feeling

When I have trouble going back to sleep in the night I do what I call "read myself to sleep." There's always a book by my bed and right now it's Craig Mullaney's The Unforgiving Minute subtitled A Soldier's Education. Written in the first person, the book follows Mullaney, a West Point graduate, Rhodes scholar, Airborne Ranger and U. S. Army Captain, to his service in Afghanistan after 9/11.

An often brutal but very interesting book, it's a subject I wouldn't generally read but I'm glad I did. It might be a book we should all read to learn some of what our soldiers go through to prepare for service. But this isn't a book review.

This morning about 5 a.m., once again I couldn't get back to sleep. I flipped my reading light on and picked up The Unforgiving Minute. Not really a book that should put me to sleep, I figured I'd give it a try.

The point I had reached in the book was pivotal in Mullaney's career. The infantry platoon he was leading in Afghanistan was caught in a firefight with al-Queda fighters, and for the first time one of his soldiers was killed.

The incident occurred at an area called Losano Ridge which is about 2,000 feet from the Pakistani border. At the time the soldiers determined that some of the incoming attack originated in Pakistan. It was estimated that more than sixty al-Queda and Taliban fighters were killed.

I managed to go back to sleep for a couple hours. When I got up this morning the national news was reporting that Osama bin-Laden had been killed in an area of Afghanistan on the Pakistani border.

What a strange coincidence.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Hello, My Name Is........

When I got married for the first time 36 years ago I thought it would be cool to hyphenate my maiden and married names. That lasted about 6 months, the name not the marriage, that lasted a little longer.

Since each name had three syllables and eight letters, it became cumbersome fast, so I opted to just go with the married name. I was 19, and wanted everyone to know I was married so I was fine with that.

I have known a few women who hyphenated their names. It seems less common now as more women opt to just keep their maiden names which makes more sense to me. Even those who use both names give their children their husband's surname rather than the hyphenated combination. I always wondered about that.

I finally saw what I worried about in the wedding announcements in Sunday's paper. Yvonne Hines-Bruce married Carl McCarthy and is now Yvonne Hines-Bruce McCarthy. I don't think that's going to fit on too many magazine subscription forms.

And what happens when their daughter, Jennifer Hines-Bruce McCarthy marries Joseph Jones-Smith Parker? Does she become Jennfer Hines-Bruce McCarthy Jones-Smith Parker? The kid's not going to be able to remember her name until she's 18. And imagine the monogram on the towels.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Sad News

Here is a link to a post I wrote in July of 2009 about my friend Joe, aka Santa. When I wrote that post we didn't expect to see Joe again since his doctors had given him only months to live.

But Joe did things his way. He was back to volunteer that December with us when his 'boys', members of his motorcycle club, brought him in his motorized wheelchair to volunteer a few hours one night. Joe sat at a table and checked gifts out as the families picked them up. He called out the family numbers loud and strong, but at the end of the evening he was exhausted.

Last fall I got a call from Joe saying he planned to make an appearance during Distribution Week in December and would help as much as he could. Tuesday of that week in the middle of all the craziness of getting Christmas gifts to more than 2,000 needy kids I got a call on my cell from Joe. I found a quiet corner to sit and talk.

We had never talked often but I noticed a big difference in his voice. He was worn down and tired. He told me he was all done and couldn't fight any longer. He was calling in hospice.

We talked for a while, and for the first time he told me what brought him to help us originally. When his daughter was going through some tough times years earlier, she applied to Adopt-a-Family and we provided gifts for her two children. Things eventually improved for her and her kids, now grown and on their own, but she never forgot about us and neither did he.

At the end of our chat he said his daughter was coming to cover the time he had volunteered to work. I said it wasn't necessary but he said she wanted to and would be there.

I'll keep my last few words to Joe to myself. After we hung up I went into the bathroom and cried.

His daughter Kelley came by that evening and helped us. It was my first time meeting her and we talked about her dad and she confirmed the story he had told me. At the end of the evening I hugged her and asked her to keep us informed.

That was last December. We didn't hear anything from the family until yesterday afternoon when Frank, one of Joe's 'boys' from the bike club, called to tell me Santa had passed away that morning. Incredibly he had kept going two years longer than the doctors said he would.

As I said to Frank, he did it his way. As a group the Adopt-a-Family Board of Directors will be going to the services to pay our respects to our friend "Santa." And as I promised Joe, Paul and I will be riding in the memorial ride that will be held in his honor. It's the least I can do for such a loyal friend.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

I Should Know Better

Last night as we were heading upstairs to bed I happened to think that we haven't tested nor accidentally set off the smoke alarms in the house in a very long time.

I walked over and pushed the test button on the one in the upstairs hallway. I could see a red light inside but the alarm didn't go off. Our house is new enough so that the alarms are hardwired which means if one sounds, they all do. It didn't go off and none of the others did either.

I went back downstairs and pressed the test button on that one; nothing. We have been living in a house without smoke alarms!

As a real estate agent it's partly my job to have a property being conveyed to a new owner inspected prior to the sale by the city or town fire marshal. At the closing we have to have a certificate saying the house has been inspected within the last 60 days and the alarms (both smoke and carbon monoxide) are no older than ten years, working and properly placed . No certificate, no closing. It's state law.

And here we are, living in a house, for who knows how long, without functioning alarms. Our house is nearly 30 years old. So the detectors should have been changed long ago but since they had been working (I thought) I wasn't concerned.

I send post cards twice a year to clients reminding them to change their clocks because of daylight savings time AND to change the batteries in their smoke detectors. Talk about not following your own advice.

Shame on me, shame on us, mainly because I know better and because we have been living in a house WITHOUT smoke alarms. That's scary.

Have you checked your detectors lately?

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Isn't That Special

I have been trying to decide whether to purchase an iPad. A couple months ago I posted a comment on Facebook asking "Who has an iPad. Why? What do you use it for? Do you like it?" I got such a variety of answers they didn't really help.

This week I finally decided to bite the bullet and buy one. At nearly $1,000 for the 3G model, it's an investment. But I've debated it for so long it's not an impulsive purchase. Yesterday I went online and ordered it.

I just got an email telling me that my iPad was shipped.....from China. I guess I shouldn't be surprised but can't we find something made in America? Not an iPad, I guess.

I bought a pair of flip-flops a couple years ago that were made in Connecticut. When I saw that I just HAD to buy them. I try to find things to buy with the Made in America tag. It's nearly impossible. Even though the quality of American-made products has declined (if you can find one) I'd still rather buy something made right here in the good ol' US of A.

If anyone has one to recommend, let me know.

NOTE: My friend Anita mentioned a television show that talked about products still Made in the USA. I googled it and found this site.

Friday, April 15, 2011

There's a Blog For That

You really can find a blog about anything and everything. I haven't heard the stats recently but not that long ago I read that there are 50 million blogs out there. I guess that explains why I only have 11 readers.


Last summer the day before we left for our cruise on the Danube River I purchased a new piece of jewelry. I knew it should be insured but I didn't have time to get it on our home owner's policy, and I was really worried about going away without insurance. When the jeweler gave me the appraisal I needed to insure it I mentioned that I didn't have time. He gave me a brochure from the Jewelers' Mutual Insurance Co. and said you can get a policy in one day.

Sure enough I called them, faxed the appraisal, gave them a credit card (of course) and received a policy that day. The surprising part was that they were considerably cheaper than my homeowners insurance.

Anywho, I got an email today from Jewelers' Mutual with a link to their blog. Today's post is about what to do if a piece of jewelry goes down the drain. An additional suggestion I've heard is to put a piece of nylon stocking or cheesecloth over the vac hose so that it doesn't actually go into the vac but even if it does, it's a lot easier to retrieve it that way than taking the plumbing apart, assuming it's still in the trap.

Better yet, take it off before getting into the shower.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Calgon, Take Me Away

Reading about a blogger friend's trip to Turks and Caicos and looking at another friend's pictures from Jamaica and her daughter's destination wedding has me longing for a visit to Playa del Carmen, the Mexican Riviera. Not to mention this terrible winter that seems to be over.

My father died suddenly in November 2000 and Paul's father died the following January. To say that it was a difficult few months is an understatement. By the time February arrived we were exhausted, emotionally and physically. Beach vacations have never been a big draw for us. I'm a redhead so the sun is NOT my friend. The sun is not a problem for Paul with his Mediterranean heritage but he doesn't hold still very well and sitting on a beach has never interested him.

But that winter/spring we needed a vacation somewhere warm and mindless. I called our travel agent and said "Find us a place to go. It has to be warm. I want a pool and a beach. I want to be able to walk to the beach from my room. I don't want to take a a taxi, bus or donkey to get there, and I want to be able to walk back to my room if I want to use my own bathroom. The only decision I want to make is whether I want red wine or white wine with lunch. And I want top-shelf booze at the bars. I don't want to be drinking Jose's Vodka."

Bless her heart, Donna sent us to the all-inclusive Riu Palace in Playa del Carmen in Mexico, one of the best all-inclusive resorts in the area. It was paradise. There were palm trees close to the water so I could be in the shade and my easy-tanning husband could be in the sun.

Each morning I got up and sat on our balcony overlooking the beautiful resort and read. We would go to breakfast and head to the beach where I would read. After lunch and a little more time at the beach, I'd head back to our suite, get in the tub and read. It was wonderful.

Since our vacations typically include some sight-seeing, we took a day trip to Chichen Itza, a Mayan archaeological site. The day we visited coincidentally was the spring equinox which is one of two days in the year when the sun causes triangles to form on the main stairway of El Castillo pyramid. The sun creates a shadow that appears to be the body of a 120 foot long snake that creeps downwards until it joins a huge serpent's head at the bottom of the stairway. It's a day of pilgrimage for many locals, and we were lucky to be there on that particular day.

We went back to the resort every winter for a few years but it's probably six year since the last visit. So Julie's and Kathy's photos of beautiful beaches and sunshine have me thinking back to these wonderful vacations. Where's the telephone? I need to make a call to the travel agent.

In the meantime, here are some photos I stole from the resort's website. Even though this is basically advertising, this is really what it looks like. You can see why I want to get back there. Now.





Monday, April 4, 2011

It's Too Late, Baby

I remember when online shopping became available. I jumped on that right away. I love sitting in my sweats at 10 p.m. with a cup of tea or glass of wine ordering clothes, gifts, whatever. Although the wine can be a bad thing because it probably loosens the purse strings.

Because of my broken arm, last week I ordered our groceries through an online delivery service a local grocery chain offers. They deliver everything to your door. They charge $10 but I'm happy to give someone ten bucks to do my shopping, bring it to my door and put it on my kitchen island. I'd probably give them another ten bucks to put the stuff away. I think it actually saves me money because I stick to a list, no impulse buying.

I didn't get into online banking until a few years after the shopping but I pay all the bills I can online. I don't write 100 checks a year. However, I do check our accounts online several times a week to make sure nothing funny is going on. And we do business with a credit union that I know monitors members' credit card activity closely, and I have faith they would spot something before it got too far. But I know, things can happen and there are risks.

Before he got used to it, Paul would see me whip out my credit card to place an online order and ask "do you really think that's safe?" My answer was "it's all over, dear. The info is already out there." And I would remind him that when they swipe his credit card at a restaurant, the info is transferred by modem over the Internet.

A few minutes ago I called the local Toyota dealership to schedule an appointment to fix a recall. No, not the stuck accelerator. I never thought that was anything other than operator error. This has to do with a master cylinder brake thingy.

The young lady in the service department asked when I wanted to bring the car in. I said Friday at 3 p.m. Fine, we'll see you then. Wait. She hadn't asked my name. Half expecting the answer, I asked "Do you know who I am?" "Yes, I see your caller ID and I looked you up in the computer. You're all set, Mrs. S."

See what I mean? It's all over, it's out there.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

I've Had Better Weeks

You're familiar with Veni, Vidi, Vici. I came, I saw, I conquered.

Last week: I woke, I walked, I stumbled, I fell, I broke.

Sometime in the night when I got up for a trip to the bathroom, it became a trip to the floor, or the foot board of the bed, I'm not sure. I remember thinking my wrist hurt but when I got up I shook my hand and thought, nothing broken.

I went back to bed. After a few minutes I realized how much it hurt so I got up, took some ibuprofen and found an icepack. In the morning the first thing I said to Paul was "I broke my arm." He never heard me fall, and he thought I was overreacting.

Which reminds me of the time I fell skiing many, many years ago. As I sat on the slope I said "I broke my collarbone." "How do you know?" "Believe me I know." It was more than fractured, it was shattered but that's another post.

I don't think he believed me about my arm this time either, but I had a feeling. A very painful feeling. Paul went to work, I went to the walk in clinic. They took an ex-ray. The doctor said he didn't see any fractures and sent me away. Thirty minutes later I got a panicked call from the doctor telling me they had a radiologist look at the films who said I had a fracture. Come back immediately. He put a splint on it and told me to call an orthopedic specialist.

My biggest fear was a six-week cast which would have made life very difficult. As in "keep your cast out of the water," which would probably mean no showers. Monday afternoon, after a very painful weekend, I saw the ortho doc. Another set of ex-rays, and he confirmed I had a fracture of the radius.

Three of them separately poked and prodded my arm and wrist and kept asking "does this hurt?" Initially it didn't but when they were done it did, everywhere. When the doctor finally told me he thought I would be okay with the splint, no cast, I nearly kissed him on the lips.

Keep it on all the time but take it off to bathe. Just be careful he said, don't fall on it again. No kidding? I have to go back in two weeks for an ex-ray but in the meantime I'm being careful. It still hurts but it's better.

The week just kept getting better. Monday, after a few weeks of back pain and trips to the chiropractor who finally said he needed an MRI, Paul had to resort to walking with a cane. Of course we couldn't get a regular appointment for the MRI soon enough so on Tuesday I took him to the Emergency Room where an MRI showed a herniated disc between L4 and L5.

I've never seen him in so much pain or take so many heavy-duty drugs to control it. Yesterday he saw an orthopedic surgeon (not the one I saw on Monday) who confirmed the disc problem. Hopefully the recommended treatment will avoid surgery. Time will tell.

Between my big, black brace/splint on my arm and Paul's limp, or cane, we look like the walking wounded. Like I said, I've had better weeks.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Dan, My Friend and Hero

It seems the word hero is thrown around in the media pretty regularly lately. Often I don't think it really applies. I think I know what a hero is, and it's my friend, Dan

On September 11 as I sat watching the horrific scene in New York City on my computer, Dan walked by my office. I knew that he had been in the service during World War II but I didn't know where he served. When he stopped at my door, I asked, "Dan, where were you on December 7, 1941?" "Pearl Harbor" was his answer. Even as I sit here now, I get goose bumps when I write that as I did at that moment.

Before I could ask another question he said "I was a Navy flyer. It was my job to fly officers around and I wasn't on the ground when it happened." I was stunned. My mouth literally dropped open. To think that the man standing there, my friend Dan, had been at Pearl Harbor that day was unbelievable. Had I not asked that question, I'm certain he would never have told me.

A few weeks ago another friend sent me this link to a site about the 1940's. I thought he'd appreciate it so I sent it on to Dan. I got this back: "The PBY seaplane you see being towed out of the water during the attack is my squadron. I was only 19 at the time. The PBY is a patrol bomber, looks small now but at the time was a huge plane equal to the flying fortress. Most of our planes were on the ramp but we had 6 at anchor on alert. All were destroyed."

I never hear anything about Pearl Harbor without thinking of Dan telling me that he had been there. It’s still incredible to me that I know a man who was there. Now in his 80's and still dabbling in the business, real estate is Dan's third career. After the war he worked for the FAA testing the equipment used for instrumental landings until his eyes kept him from passing the necessary physical exams. He still gets together with some of his old flying buddies for lunch when I imagine they share stories about flying and aviation in general.

Years ago after a scary, bumpy airplane flight that I told him about, Dan said..."no plane ever crashes from turbulence." Now whenever we're on a flight and it gets bumpy and I'm digging my fingernails into Paul's leg, he always leans toward me and says "Remember what Dan said." I'm sure I'll always remember that and many other things my hero Dan told me.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Go Figure, Sigmund

Do you remember your dreams? I rarely do. Sometimes when I wake in the night I think I have to remember that one! But it's usually gone when I wake up or soon after. I seem to be remembering more lately. Age? Menopause? Both?

Do you ever wake from an interesting or pleasant dream and try to go back to sleep to keep it going? I remember last night's and I tried to go back to sleep to continue it. I really wanted to know what happened!

Paul and I were driving through New York City and then, somehow, I was out of the car, walking and he had driven off. I don't think we were fighting or that he threw me out of the car because I was happy. Or maybe he did and I was still happy.

I had a bag, like a canvas bag, with me at first but later it was a backpack. I also started out with my long-gone cat, Tigger. She began walking with me and then was in the backpack with her head sticking out. Later it was Lucy, the Jack Russell Terror.

I started walking though a neighborhood that seemed Middle-Eastern. The sidewalks were full of people in chairs, walking and standing. There was no where to walk so I walked in the street. Eventually I came to a sidewalk along a grassy area but not a park.

That's when the cat and the backpack seemed to appear. I remember looking down the street and thinking I live on this street in Rhode Island. All I have to do is follow it home.

Soon friends Phil and Linda appeared and walked with me for a while. Then they were gone. My cell phone was in my pocket but I had the ringer turned off. Later I listened to several messages from Paul. He was freaking out wondering where I was.

That's where I woke up.

It wasn't until I began writing this post that I thought about a very strange coincidence. I read every night just before sleep, and I have been reading The Little Book by Seldon Edwards. The story is about a man mysteriously transported from 1988 San Francisco to 1897 Vienna.

Sometimes I also read in the night when I wake up and can't get back to sleep. I did that last night. Just before I went back to sleep for the second time, the character in the book had just met Sigmund Freud. Freud is well known for his theory about interpretation of dreams. Part of his theory is that all dreams are forms of "wish fulfillment." There has been no mention in the story yet of his book The Interpretation of Dreams, but I still thought my recollection of my dream was a strange coincidence.

Cue the theme from The Twilight Zone.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Charlie's Not the Only One Who Needs An Intervention

I was in a car accident today. An 85-year-old lady backed into me in the parking lot of the library. I only learned how old she was when I went to the police to report it and they ran her plate.

I am not anti-old people. Hopefully I'll get there one day. I just hope I won't be driving myself there. I hope that I'll know when it's time to stop driving

When I realized she had hit me, I got out of my car and stepped in front of her so she couldn't drive away. In retrospect that probably wasn't too smart, but it was obvious she didn't have a clue she had hit me. She left a pretty good scrape on my bumper. When I walked around her car looking for the damage, there were so many scrapes, dents and dings it was difficult.

She was so frail she could barely speak. She was doing the old hand over hand steering which is fine if you're going 5 mph. She also wasn't interested in giving me her name or any info. When I asked if she had insurance she said no. When I asked again she said her son takes care of all that. So why doesn't her son realize she may no longer be a safe driver? How could they not know?

Twice she said she had her backup lights on. I told her I was stopped. It was obvious she was driving away, through me or my car. She kept saying she really had to go and pick up her great granddaughter.

She left and I drove to the police station. I felt a little foolish when I said some old lady backed into me in the library parking lot. The officer at the window sort of gave me the "you're kidding me, right, lady?" look. I asked him, suppose she decided to file a report? Couldn't I be accused of leaving the scene of an accident?

I wrote out the report, and was told to call my insurance agent. I wasn't happy thinking I would have to put the claim for the damage through my insurance and may be on the hook for the repairs if they can't determine who she is insured with. The officer looked up her plate number and told me she was born in 1926.

It was story time at the library. What if a mother with a baby in a stroller and a toddler stopped behind this lady's car? Or if she was putting the stroller in the trunk of her car? It might be time to hang up the keys before she does more damage than a scrape on a bumper.

This is a time when the saying the child becomes the parent comes to mind. Taking the keys away from an elderly parent may be one of the most difficult things a child ever does. My mother willingly gave up driving when it was time, so I was fortunate. We were also fortunate that she came to that decision before something tragic happened. But I remember her car had a few dings and scrapes, too.

It's likely this lady's family will never know of this little mishap. I just hope they don't get a call one day saying she has hurt herself, another family or worse.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Come to Mama

This little beauty, a Nissan 370Z Touring model, is for sale down the street from me.

If I trade in the lawn tractor, snow blower, and my change jar, do you think that would give it to me?

Sunday, March 6, 2011

An Easy Mistake

Two issues of Maxim magazine came in the mail last week addressed to Paul. Another arrived the next day.

Recently he found a postcard for a free subscription to Motor Trend magazine and mailed it. Motor Trend never appeared so maybe someone screwed up and sent Maxim. Yeah, whatever, I don't care. I turned 55 in January, the guy deserves some entertainment once in a while.

Can you imagine the problems such a mistake could cause in some houses. "Honest, honey, I ordered a subscription to People. I don't know how I got Playboy."

Or some woman orders Martha Stewart Living and here comes Maxim. That might be hard to explain, too.

You know inside the first few pages of a magazine where they tell you who the editor is? They often have a tagline below the banner. For example, Yankee Magazine's is New England's Magazine. Maxim's is Get to Know Us.

Nah, I'll pass. Paul, not so much.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

A Penny Here, a Penny There

I read an article about a North Carolina family that takes a break from spending any money during the month of February each year. Paul and I talked about it. I said I would like to give it a try for two weeks. I could tell by his expression he doubts I can do it.

Here's my plan:
  1. No trips to the grocery store. The family in the article set aside $10 a week for milk and fresh produce. I don't know where they are buying their fruit, vegetables and milk for $10. That seems impossible. Our milk is delivered weekly so I won't stop that. I might be able to manage the produce on $10 a week but it will take some pretty careful shopping, and blinders when I go into the grocery store.
  2. No dinners out. We can do that for two weeks with what is in the freezer and pantry. There might be a lot of macaroni going on but it's doable.
  3. No entertainment. We have been going to the movies once a month lately. We only have basic cable but we do subscribe to Netflix. Again, that's a monthly fee I can't turn off for two weeks.
  4. No shopping at all. For me, the original online shopper, that will require some reminding. I know I can do it.
  5. No gifts. Not even money. Sorry kids. I'll try to pick two weeks that doesn't include anyone's birthday.

That probably doesn't seem like such a difficult project for two weeks but I admit I run through Dunkin' Donuts pretty often for coffee and a bagel. I'll have to plan lunches better. And we do go out to eat once or twice a week which will stop.

We are both on the road for work, so we won't be able to limit our gas consumption for work but no dinners or movies out will cut down on travel.

One expense I won't cancel is my cleaning lady. Now I know you're thinking that should be something I can do without for two weeks but it's Ana's job. She has worked for us for a long time, and it wouldn't be fair to cut her income for two weeks. I always keep that in mind when we go away. If we're gone for two weeks, I pay her for one. She's never asked, I just do it.

We'll still pay mortgage and utilities but the money that seems to slip our hands, mine anyway, will stop there.

I'll let you know how I make out.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

A Realtor's Best Friends

Here are some more apps on my iPhone that I'm having fun with.

I have three apps on my iPhone that I use in my real estate business.

The first one is the Flashlight app. Often I have to get a water meter reading in a dark part of someone's basement. If you don't have a flashlight to see the numbers on the meter, you're in trouble. The flashlight app uses the LED light on the phone and fills the screen with bright white light which is enough to be able to see in a dark corner of a basement or to read the water meter.

The next app that comes in handy is the compass. Often I'll have a buyer ask me which way a house faces. Sometimes it's obvious, others not. So I whip out my iPhone and check my compass. It also gives you coordinates of where you are and with a touch it will go to Google maps and show your location on a map and give you the option to use it as a GPS. There are several different options for a free compass app.

My father was a tool designer and retired from the Stanley Bostitch Company back in 1998. If Dad was here today to see the Stanley Bostitch level app on my iPhone he would be amazed. He would also have an iPhone with this app on it. He was always on the cutting edge of new technology. He had a GPS in their motor home long before anyone else had one. I use level app at home more than when I'm working. Yes, we have several levels around the house but this is so easy to use and so much more convenient than rummaging around in a tool box.

So these are three apps on my iPhone that help me out often at work.

This project is my own idea and I am receiving no compensation from anyone. I am in no way an expert on the use of this equipment or apps. Any additional info or corrections received from people will be considered and should anything be suggested that I feel is pertinent, I will gladly repost with corrections.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Not Enough Adjectives in the English Language

The possible dismissal of all the school teachers in Providence has recently made national news. If you haven't read about it, you shouldn't need to in order to understand my rage when I read this quote and wrote a letter to the editor of the Providence Journal. It hasn't been published yet so I'll consider it done here:

In the February 23 Providence Journal, Providence Teachers' Union President Steve Smith, in response to the possible layoff of Providence teachers, is quoted he “now knows how the United States State Department felt on December 7, 1941.”

This is the most disrespectful, contemptuous and unpatriotic statement I have ever heard. That such an inappropriate and outrageous comparison to an event that led to the loss of millions of lives around the world was uttered by someone who is supposedly an educator is shocking and disgusting.

Please don't respond with a comment in support of teachers or unions. My disgust with this man and his quote has nothing to do with either.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Food for Thought-Sausage, Zucchini and Pasta

It's been more than a year since I've posted a recipe. I cook a lot and am always trying new recipes or putting my own ideas together. Some are certainly better than others, but this is a real keeper. I put this dish together for the first time last night, and it was so good, I had to share it.

Paul never complains about anything I cook, although he does sometimes say I cook too much or too many vegetables. His usual comment is, You cook it, I'll eat it. But last night he pronounced this meal delicious. I have to agree. I absolutely love one-dish meals. This went into a nice big pasta bowl and looked very colorful. I forgot to take a picture of it. Next time.

We liked it so much I can't wait to try it again. I'm sure I'll make some changes but this is how I did it last night. It was really easy. Most of the work was in the chopping of the vegetables.

SAUSAGE, ZUCCHINI AND PEPPER PASTA

• 8 oz. pasta, fusili, penne, ziti, bowties are all good
• 1/2 pound spicy or sweet Italian sausage. (I used sweet and just increased the ground black and crushed red pepper flakes. It was just spicy enough.)
• red or yellow onion, diced
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/4 teaspoon dried Italian spices
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 3/4 cup Marsala wine
• 2 peppers red, yellow or green, whatever you prefer, chopped
• 1 zucchini, diced
• 1 cup fresh sliced mushrooms
• 2 cups chicken stock
• 1/4 cup blanched green peas
• Grated Parmesan cheese

1. Cook pasta al dente. Drain.
2. Meanwhile, in a large skillet cook sausage until brown. Remove from pan. When cool enough to handle, cut into bite-size pieces.
3. Saute onion and garlic in the olive oil until soft and transparent. Add the Italian spices, salt, ground black pepper, red pepper flakes, 1/2 of the wine, peppers, zucchini, mushrooms, and saute until tender. Add remaining wine and chicken stock and cook until liquid has reduced to a thick sauce, about 20 minutes.
4. After sauce has reduced, add cooked sausage and thawed peas to the sauce and stir to heat through.
5. Toss pasta with the sauce to coat evenly. Sprinkle with the grated Parmesan cheese. Serve warm.

Makes about 3 servings.

Italian bread and a salad and you've got an easy meal! Enjoy!

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Shazam!!

Here's another app on my iPhone I'm having fun with.

You know when you're riding in the car and a song comes on the radio that you know but just can't remember the name of? Or maybe you want to know who's singing it. And the DJ either doesn't tell you or you miss when they do! Isn't that so annoying?

I know it! It's on the tip of my tongue. I'll think of it when I'm not trying to. It's driving me crazy!

How about when you disagree with someone about what or who it is?

Back in the day I could tell you the name of a song and the artist after just a few notes. Old age and new music has taken care of that talent.

One of the favorite apps on my iPhone is called Shazam. It is so cool. Just point your phone towards the music source, press the icon on the screen, give it a few seconds and Shazam! It will identify the artist and the title.

For some it will give you a photo of the album, lyrics, bio of the artist, tour info, YouTube videos, and, of course, the option to buy the song from iTunes.

It will only identify recorded music so you can't hum or sing the tune. No problem for me, not even a computer could ever identify anything I sang.

Shazam keeps track of your "tags" (the songs that you've asked about). If you've had the app on your current iPod or iPhone since before November 2009, you have unlimited tags. After that you're limited to 5 tags a month unless you upgrade.

Online info says you can search over 8 million artists, albums and tracks. I have tested it on songs as far back as the 30's

I know there are lots of other features on the free app that I haven't explored as well as the option to upgrade (which I understand will remove the tags you already have so be aware of that), but I'm having fun with it and amazing people by how much I know about music. Not!

This project is my own idea and I am receiving no compensation from anyone. I am in no way an expert on the use of this equipment or apps. Any additional info or corrections received from people will be considered and should anything be suggested that I feel is pertinent, I will gladly repost with corrections.

Friday, February 11, 2011

I Am Smiling, Sir

I saw a report on the local news this week about a group of Rhode Island State Troopers having a pizza party at a Providence housing project.

The pictures on television were of smiling kids, probably all under ten, surrounded by smiling troopers in full uniform.

The Rhode Island State Troopers is an impressive group of men and women. Recognized nationwide for their award-winning uniforms, the demeanor you encounter when facing a Statie, as they're known locally, can be very intimidating. There's not usually a lot of smiling going on.

The Chad Brown housing project is often in the news, not for pizza parties, for shootings and drug busts. There have been many teens and young men and occasionally women, killed there over the last few years. It's a scary neighborhood that you stay out of.

When the cops show up they aren't smiling so this was a really nice story. Part of the department's 2011 Community Outreach Program, it's an opportunity for the kids of Chad Brown to see State and Providence police as mentors, not just investigators. Mostly it just looked like they were all having fun.

It was nice to see something positive in the news for a change.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

No Facebook Spoken Here

I deactivated my Facebook page last week. I did it because I stupidly clicked on something a friend sent that was bogus, which hijacked my friends list and sent the same stupid message out.

I was embarrassed by my stupidity (get my drift? I felt stupid because I know better) and in an attempt to stop it from going further, I deactivation my account. I don't even know if it stopped it but I felt I had to remove myself anyway.

I know with a few clicks I can reactivate the account. When I took that step I figured I would go back eventually but the longer I go 'deactivated' the better I like it.

I know Facebook is a time sucker, (Pam's phrase and so appropriate) but I didn't realize how much of a time sucker it was for me. Let me not be too dramatic but I feel a bit of freedom.

For the record I did create a Twitter account but have never used it. I don't think anyone cares if I'm having coffee, a sandwich or in the bathroom. And I can't compete with Ashton Kutcher's followers so what's the point?

Honestly there are some good ways to use Facebook. It has gotten me back in touch with several friends from high school and even a couple from childhood. That's pretty neat but after "Hi, how are you?" there's not much else to say, at least on Facebook. If we were face to face there might be more but I have lived without these people for nearly 40 years (oh gawd, did I write that??) so what's the big draw now? I don't even go to high school reunions.

Let me think about some of the positives about Facebook:
  1. It reminds me of birthdays. That's nice but I can remember the most important ones on my own.
  2. I did learn that Paul's cousin was in the hospital. That was a big one, although I assume they would have called before long.
  3. It's let me offer words of comfort and concern to people. I can do that with a card or a phone call.
  4. It has given me an opportunity to see some photos that I wouldn't otherwise. That's a loss, but I'll survive.
  5. It gave me a chance to share some of my blog posts. I didn't do it regularly so no great loss.

Some people in my business stress the importance of social networking and recommend having a Facebook page. So I guess I'm losing that connection with some of my younger clients but I'll risk that. So there are some positives but nothing life altering.

But the one really important positive of NOT having a Facebook page is that it frees up some time and creativity (that may be a stretch) to spend writing and keeping up with some of the blogs I have neglected. Far more valuable ways to spend my time.

Just now when I ran spell check on this post, the word Facebook came up as a misspelled word. That tells me something right there.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Project 365

If you're like me, the older I get, the faster time seems to go. Something that happened three months ago seems like last week.

Apple has an app that keeps a photo record of events each day. It's called "Project 365" and can be loaded on your iPhone, iTouch or iPad.

A calendar that lets you keep photos of something that happened on a particular day for each month, it takes just a few seconds. I often cannot recall what I did yesterday, so this free application (there is also a Pro version for 99 cents) is a fun and useful way to help me remember, and it's a breeze to use.

Press on the current day on the onscreen calendar, take a photo of something that happens that day, or use a library shot, opt to use it for that day and that's it. It takes just seconds.


I prefer to use a picture from my camera roll and add it to Project 365 because if you take a picture and post it directly to the calendar and then inadvertently delete it, you can't get it back. Or at least I don't know how to get it back.

Using a photo from your own library also gives you the chance to take several shots over the course of a day and go back to choose the one you like best. Or shoot several different events during the day and decide which one you want to use later.

You can scroll through the calendar later to see what happened over the course of a week, month or year. Only 40 days into the year and so far I haven't missed one. The app also reminds you if you haven't loaded a photo for the day. You can send your photos to Facebook, too, but I haven't done that yet.

You can add captions. Below is the photo I used on January 12 with the caption "Can't find the pee place, Mom!"

I've had my iPhone for about 18 months, and I love it. It's my first smart phone and I've been really pleased with how easy it is to use. I've also been having fun with several apps.

As a new blog project, I'm planning to post info on some of the apps I've used and like. I'm no computer geek. I thought that might be an advantage for regular people to understand how and why I use certain apps. I know that other providers are now going to offer service for iPhones, too, so I thought it might be a good time to begin.

This project is my own idea and I am receiving no compensation from anyone. I am in no way an expert on the use of this equipment or apps. Any additional info or corrections received from people will be considered and should anything be suggested that I feel is pertinent, I will gladly repost with corrections.


 

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