"Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity." ~ Gilda Radner

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Sunday Sensibilities

Of course, you'll appreciate "Nancy Drew's Guide To Life" by Jennifer Worick a heckuva lot more if , indeed, you are a Nancy Drew fan and remember the storylines from her books...

Nevertheless, I think you will find it all good, sound advice...and now, just a few nuggets to bring a grin to your face this absolutely GORGEOUS Sunday morning (at least it is where I live...):

Survival Strategies:
Moxie and a good sense of balance are essential when crawling on a roof ~ from The Hidden Staircase

When bound and gagged, you can still tap out HELP in Morse code to attract attention ~ from The Clue of the Tapping Heels

If you hear the telltale sounds of a helicopter, step away from a blaze in the fireplace. The copter might send a downdraft into the chimney and shower sparks all over your sleek coif. ~ from The Mystery of the 99 Steps

Dating: A Primer
Make your date work for you-- send him on B-level errands you can't seem to fit into your busy schedule. ~ The Clue in the Diary

A forceful and skilled dance partner will make you forget everything on your mind. ~ The Clue of the Velvet Mask

If a guy's hunch results in a dead-end, don't flaunt your better judgement and intuition in front of him. Smirk secretly to yourself. ~ The Phantomof Pine Hill

After receiving an electrical shock to the system, find as many men as possible to vigorously massage you. ~ Mystery of the Glowing Eye

Next Up: Nancy's nuggets on sleuthing, etiquette,and -- something we may all need in our retirement depending on the status of our 401ks -- wilderness tips.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

2,000! YEE-HA!

Woo-Hoo!

While I was out galavanting around Carroll today --OK, I took DJ to get a badly-needed haircut-- ye ol' site meter turned over to 2,000!

(So it has taken a tiny while...I sort of quit blogging here whenI was too busy blogging elsewhere (see earlier post) for the better part of the last year..but it's gratifying to think that The Home Stretch is actually read...)

And I even have some "regular" readers -- thank you all so much!

If I only knew who the 2,000th visitor actually was...

Oh,well...no sense looking a gift blogger in the post...

Anyway...to all Home Stretch readers near and far, I appreciate the time you take to read my thoughts and observations about life at/after 50...and I hope that here and there I have made you laugh...or think...or appreciate your own fleeting/misspent youth...

Well, I must get back to making a pasta salad...OK, it's a pre-packaged Suddenly Salad...at almost 51, one must make the most of the time one has left...

Next up, as promised: A few choice words of advice on dating, etiquette and more from Nancy Drew....

A Guide To Life I Can Finally RelateTo...

Maybe it was because she was blue-eyed, bold, and adventuresome, while I, though blue-eyed, was shy and a 'fraidy cat.

Or maybe it was because she had strawberry-blonde hair and my hair, though blonde, was more the color of dishwater.

And she was just so darn smart!

Whatever the reason, the moment I discovered my big sister's old Nancy Drew books when I was a gradeschooler, I was hooked.

I wanted to BE Nancy Drew.

And so I became her.

I spied on my neighbors. I looked for mysterious clues EVERYWHERE. I forced my friends to play Nancy Drew and make up mysteries (I, of course, always got to be Nancy). If I could have morphed my father, an average-looking, financially challenged office manager, into a devilishly handsome, successful lawyer like Nancy's dad, Carson Drew, believe me, I would have.

Sadly, both Nancy Drew and I lost our mothers at an early age: Nancy was but 3; I was almost but not quite 13.

(Nancy, of course, had that motherly housekeeper Hannah Gruen, to bake her cookies and make sure she didn't go too dangerously far in her sleuthing since Daddy Drew was so busy with his successful law practice. I, thankfully, had my big sister, Mary Susan, who never baked me cookies (that I recall) but she did keep me in line since Daddy Dearest spent most of his extracurricular time down at the local tap...but I digress.)

Anyway...my Nancy Drew fantasy kept my tender heart above water during some pretty troubled times back in my early youth. Plus she was just so much fun! I'd spend hours, I'd spend DAYS, lost in the pages of riveting tales like "The Ghost of Blackwood Hall" and "The Clue Of The Velvet Mask."

So you'll never guess what I bought last week at my most favorite hangout -- no, not Walgreens (that's my second favorite hangout) -- Barnes and Noble!

Why, "Nancy Drew's Guide to Life", by Jennifer Worick, of course. It's a loving -- and hilarious, really -- tribute to the young sleuth and her many stylish gumpump pearls of wisdom.

One peek at the inside cover sold me on it:

"Role model? Definitely. Genius? Oh, yeah. Goddess? Probably.

You couldn't have known it then, but all those hours spent reading about Nancy's adventures served you well...For every woman who remembers wishing she could tail a suspicious truck in Nancy smart blue roadster with the rest of the gang, this book is for you."

Ahhh...

I just never realized the practical tips and sound advice that hard-working girl detective imparted in every book! And the nifty thing about "Nancy Drew's Guide To Life"?

"Her sage counsel is accompanied by the classic covers and artwork from her yellow-spined books."

Some of my favorite Nancy Drew artwork, however, appeared in the older, blue-covered editions from the 1950s. But that's a moot point, really, in the whole scheme of things.

All in all, I'd have to say that it was Nancy Drew who nudged me to follow my nose for news and become a journalist. And my 25-plus years' experience as a newspaper reporter mirrors the career of a sleuth in many ways. Suffice to say that both Ms. Drew and I have encountered our fair share of cranky crooks...

I also always admired Nancy's relationship skills regarding beaus. She never let her feelings for that handsome college man Ned Nickerson consume her or distract her from sleuthing. Hell, I'm not sure she ever even let him kiss her...yet faithful to Nancy he remained, always showing up in time to escort her to a dance...what a great guy!

Hence, one of my favorite chapters: Dating: A Primer

Stay Tuned!

A Life Of Its Own

Amazing.

The Independent Eye continues to grow in number of hits each week despite the fact that there hasn't been a post to that blog since July 7 when Peggy shut 'er down and debuted her own Stuart news blog, The Voices of Stuart.

There is a wealth of past Stuart City Council history/ugly politics and other juicy stuff packed away in those Eye archives, to be sure.

Funny.

Now, from what I can glean from the stats, folks aren't spending alot of time at The Eye -- average visit length is, apparently,13 seconds. Yet they are, it appears, perusing pages for a minute or two-- perhaps waxing nostalgic? Perhaps just making sure Susan and I aren't going to suddenly reappear?

LOL.

(I'd like to add that Peggy is doing an EXCELLENT job of holding those Stuart city government skallywags' naughty little feet to the fire all on her own...keep goin', girl!)

Anyway...make of the stats what you will...I just find it amusing...

So, FYI, from this morning's Eye site meter report:

Visits
Total ....................... 36,224
Average per Day .................. 5
Average Visit Length .......... 0:13
This Week ....................... 38

Page Views
Total ....................... 52,593
Average per Day .................. 6
Average per Visit .............. 1.2
This Week ....................... 45

Whodathunk.

Friday, August 31, 2007

A LITTLE FRIDAY INSPIRATION

MAYA ANGELOU'S BEST POEM EVER

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough money within her control to move outand rent a place of her own,even if she never wants to or needs to...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...something perfect to wear if the employer,or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..a youth she's content to leave behind....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,and a recipe for a meal,that will make her guests feel honored...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...a feeling of control over her destiny...EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...how to fall in love without losing herself...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...how to quit a job,break up with a lover,and confront a friend without;ruining the friendship...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...when to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...that she can't change the length of her calves,the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...that her childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..whom she can trust,whom she can't,and why she shouldn't take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...where to go...be it to her best friend's kitchen table...or a charming inn in the woods...when her soul needs soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...what she can and can't accomplish in a day...a month...and a year...

Monday, August 27, 2007

There Oughtta Be A Law

So there I am at the Walgreen's checkout counter, and the clerk says, "Hey, I've got some free samples of some great face cream that I know you'll love...it really clears up acne...and leaves your skin feeling really soft."
At the same time, as she rings up my purchases (which includes a box of Super Duper Giant Overnight Maxi Pads With Jumbo Wings), the cash register cranks out a receipt that informs (lucky) me that I've won a free AARP membership...
Now wait a cotton' pickin' minute...


I'f I'm AARP eligible (which, damn it, I am...actually I'll be 51 in but a few months), how is it that I am STILL fighting acne and STILL having to buy flippin' Kotex?
(Of course, it's perimenopausal sebacious cysts combined with ingrown and infected chin whiskers so coarse you could sweep a kitchen floor, not pubescent pimples, that plague me...but I digress...)

It's just not fair.
Heavy sigh...

And they said zits disappear at 30...

Ha!

There oughtta be a law...

Friday, August 24, 2007

LADIES, IS THIS TRUE?


Hmm...


I think I may have dated such a guy back in the day...

And I do love Brad Pitt...



Just some fun food for thought this glorious Friday!

Have a good one!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Haaaaapy 27th Anniversary to Us!

(From the cartoon "The Flintstones"
To the music of the William Tell Overture
or The Lone Ranger's Theme)

Happy anniversary!
Happy anniversary!
Happy anniversary!
Haaaaapy anniversary!

Happy happy happy happy
Happy anniversary!
Happy happy happy happy
Happy anniversary!

Happy anniversary!
Happy anniversary!
Happy anniversary!
Haaaaapy anniversary!

Monday, August 20, 2007

TILL DEAF DO US PART?

So this Thursday my husband and I will observe/celebrate our 27th wedding anniversary.

Twenty-seven blissful, peaceful, stress-free, nary-a-cross word-spoken years of wildly romantic wedded harmony.

LOL...

(And they said I couldn't write fiction...)

Funny, isn't it... they make you promise before God and everyone else to love and cherish each other through thick and thin, for richer,for poorer, in good times and bad, yada, yada, yada, when all along anyone sitting out there in the pews (or garden, or chapel, or whatever) who's been married for more than seven years (or fewer, depending on the couple) knows full well that such a heady commitment is so much easier said than done.

Of course, when you are young and in love and the hormones are flowing, you can't be bothered by the seemingly inconsequential details of thick/thin/sickness/health/richer/poorer -- you just wanna tie the knot.

I mean, of course you take your vows seriously, but you really don't have a flipping clue what you are agreeing to when you say "for better, for worse."

Experience says, however, that THAT might be a good time to politely interrupt the vows and say to the minister, priest, justice of the peace or Elvis impersonator, "Define 'worse'."

You see, sometimes, "worse" in marriage doesn't always mean big, bad stuff. No, what I have discovered is that it's often the little, picky stuff that truly gets in the way of matrimonial bliss.

He NEVER picks up his socks.
She NEVER refills the empty toilet paper roll.
He snores too loud.
She smacks her lips when she chews her food.

And so forth and so on.

Sounds horribly petty, I know. But after more than 10 years, trust me, little annoying idiosyncracies like that can morph The Happy Couple into The Bickersons in a nano second.

Yes, growing old together, while it can be comforting, also serves up a whole plate of splendiferous marital issues you never dreamed were possible back in the day when you were standing wistfully and blissfully ignorant at the altar saying "I do."

For example, both John and I are losing our hearing -- John more so than me -- but nevertheless, we have made a pact that we must never try to talk to each other if one of us is in the other room. I mean, we're not exactly to the point of having to read each other's lips, but it creeps closer every day.

So, in an attempt to be romantic this a.m., I sauntered up to him and, directly into what I thought was his good ear, cooed, "This is the week of our anniversary!"

To which, with great puzzlement, he replied:

"We should delete our anniversary?"

Oy.

Oh, well.

With any luck, matching earhorns are cheaper than hearing aids.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

THOUGHTS BEFORE CLEANING WHILE STILL IN MY PJs

One risk I never take...

CHANGE


LATE SUMMER
by Eric Rosenbloom
(copyright 2002)

The season’s maturity is summer’s wane,
A mellowing of early exuberance
Yet grandeur of a calm confidence,
The small sweet fruit on the raspberry cane.

The crickets save their energy for love calls,
And modestly brilliant flowers shine
Atop the rich-leaved patient stalks that line
The edges of fields and fences and old stalls.

The rodents never forget that summers end
And now in the shade of the august haze
They rest a while these satisfied yet anxious days
To wonder how this winter each will fend.

Settled in our cushions while gazing at the stars,
My hand in yours,
the crickets’ hum is ours.

JUST BREATHE

Hallelujah!

The heat wave is over! Over,I tell ya! At least for this a.m.

The windows are open! There's actually a breeze! A breeze!

I can breathe, I can blink, without sweating to death!

Just breathe! Breathe in the fresh, cool air!

I will survive!

Friday, August 17, 2007

HOW HE SPENT HIS SUMMER VACATION

Daniel's on-line film debut...

Most kids played baseball...my son made movies...

He usually makes World War II dramas...this is a little lighter fare...

Sometimes boys just wanna have fun, too...unstructured, creative, non-sports fun...

Best viewed with high speed...

Thursday, August 16, 2007

THANKS, BUT NO THANKS


Just when I thought life was teetering on the edge of utter boredom in Groceryville...

This rather heavy set gal waltzes up to me at the cash register, pulls her shirt up a bit and says, smiling, "Wanna rub my belly for good luck? People like to rub my belly for good luck."

WHAT? What does she think she is, a flippin' genie?

"Um, gee, no...no,I really don't want to. But th-th-thanks just the same," I replied.

Get me outta here.

Now.

FIRST THE TAN, THEN THE NAILS

The manicured fingernails are always the last to go.

Broke a nail this a.m. -- so of course I had to get rid of the other nine -- the last remnants of my Cinci manicure. The last evidence of living in Pamperdom for a week. And I don't mean the disposable diapers...although I am sure Depends are just around the corner...

The tan started to fade immediately, of course, and I just can't quite justify going back to the tanning bed when fall is -- I hope -- just around the corner.

And, besides, who needs a tan if one is no longer required to don a bathing suit for lounging by a pool for four or five hours a day?

Vacation seems like a lifetime ago...

Did I mention the dog destroyed John's good shoes? And Daniel's cell phone charger? And my rather pricey and sassy smart-girl glasses?

And the beat goes on...



Tuesday, August 14, 2007

NOT GONNA WATCH IT

The name is boring, the plot sounds contrived.

TV is just not what it used to be...

I miss The Wonder Years...

OH, NO! NOT POLLY POCKETS!?!?


You know it's a dark day in our country when Polly, Barbie and Batman get yanked off the toy shelves...

Is anything safe anymore?

(Yeah...that's our girl Polly, right, during a happier, safer, more innocent time in her doll career.)

THAT 'JUST BRUSHED' FEELING


So I'm stocking the candy/gum shelves and I happen to glance at pack of Wrigley's Orbit White sugarfree gum...

"Proven to Remove Stains and Whiten Teeth...Removes 40% of Stains..."

Hmm...

A closer look at the fine print on the back of the pack tells you the REAL story, however...

"Chewing 2 pieces of Orbit White after eating and drinking helps: Remove stains and whiten teeth; Remove over 40% of stains in testing based on an 8-week clinical test."

Let's see...

Two pieces of Orbit White x 3 meals a day and say, 2 snacks w/beverage x 8 weeks = 10 pieces of gum a day x 7 days a week= 70 pieces of gum a week x 8 = 560 pieces of gum.

If there are 12 pieces of gum per pack, and it takes 560 pieces of gum to make a difference...560 divided by 12 = 46.66 packs of gum -- let's call it 47...

Figure 47 packs of gum at $1.05 each = $49.35...

My God, man, you could spend about the same amount of hard-earned cash for name-brand whitening strips and have whiter, brighter teeth in less than half the time...

Conclusion: Obviously, I have too much time on my hands at work if I have time to figure out this drivel...

Monday, August 13, 2007

IT WAS REAL. IT WAS FUN.

And it was real fun...and a lot of time-consuming, hard, make-your-eyeballs bleed work.

But we did it because we felt it was the right -- and journalistically moral and necessary -- thing to do at the time.

We couldn't just sit back and let the BS continue to fly without, um, throwing our two cents worth of perspective in. So we gave it our best blogospheric shot.

People loved us. People hated us.

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

It was The Independent Eye.

One year ago today, Suz.

A moment of remembrance, please...:)

Sunday, August 12, 2007

IT ALL BOILS DOWN TO THE EGGS

It's a gloomy Sunday evening...

We're under some sort of severe weather watch/warning...

Think I'll throw on the pjs and cozy up to a good, old, classic movie...Annie Hall.

One of my favorite quotes from the movie:

Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) at the end of the movie, summing up relationships, after seeing Annie (Diane Keaton) one last time:

"After that it got pretty late, and we both had to go, but it was great seeing Annie again. I... I realized what a terrific person she was, and... and how much fun it was just knowing her; and I... I, I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs."

Saturday, August 11, 2007

WHAT? NO LIST?

School supply shopping...is there anything more frustrating?

Well, of course, in reality, there is.

But over the years, I have found that school supply shopping is not for the easily stressed and strained.

I know what you're thinking..."But Ann, they give you a list. How tough can it be?" Well, since you asked...

Example (from School Year Past):

Notebook (single subject, college rule, at least 70 pages)
2 Red
2 Green
1 Yellow
1 Blue
1 Black

Seemingly simple enough. Until it comes down to actually FINDING a yellow single-subject, college-ruled 70-page notebook.

I found purple. Lots of purple. But no yellow. Or I found yellow, but it was wide-margined.

I searched Wal-Mart. I searched KMart.

"Oh, I found lots of yellow notebooks at Target,"I recall another mom telling me, inferring, I suppose, that a blind monkey could easily find a yellow spiral notebook, so why couldn't I...

Well, how nice. Except Target is in Des Moines. I was 70-plus miles from Des Moines, and school started in, oh, 15 minutes.

OK, so I am exaggerating just a skosh.

School was actually starting in 2o minutes.

Ba-da-bump.

But let's face it...school supply shopping -- successful, stress-free school supply shopping-- takes excellent planning and organizational skills, and patience...three attributes that aren't readily at my fingertips.

Especially patience.

Another flash from School Year Past:

"But I want the 36 -crayon box, Mom."

"But Daniel, it says you only need 24."

"But Mom..."

"But nothing, young man! Put the 24 box in the dang cart or you're grounded for life! Or until second grade."

And what about those colored pencils? Ya got erasable, gel, metallic-colored, multicultural, twistable, pastel...the list, of course, is extremely vague-- just says colored pencils -- and while Junior is clamoring for twistable gel, you're thinkin' Teach proobably just wants traditional (and possibly erasable)...if you could just get into the teacher's psyche for but a minute...)

"Just get the traditional 24-pack colored pencils, dear."

"But Mom, I want the 36 metallic-colored..."

"Put the 24-pack traditional colored pencils in the dang cart or you're grounded for life. Or until graduation."

So this year, as Daniel enters his first year of high school, I says to myself, I says, "Annie girl, this year, you're doin' it right. You're going to plan. You're going to be organized. You're going to have patience. It's ONLY school supply shopping.

Three weeks -- count 'em -- THREE weeks before school starts, I ask the high school principal (he's a long-time neighbor of mine) for a freshman school supply list.

"There isn't one," he says, oh-so-matter-of-factly.

"Pardon me," I sputter incredulously. "What did you just say?"

"There isn't a freshman school supply list," he says.

WHAT?!?

"So, what? We just figure out what they need by flippin' telepathy?" I snarl.

"Oh, you pretty much figure a spiral notebook for each class, some pens, pencils and a binder...the partciulars will come later from each teacher..." he says.

"Wait a minute, pal," I says, teeth clenched, eyes narrowed. "We are slaves to your insanely detailed yet horrendously vague school supply lists since pre-school, and now, suddenly, 11 school years into it, you're tellin' me there's no list?"

"Yup."

"You can't do this, man," I cried. "I'm hooked! I finally had it all planned! I was ready this year. I was counting on a list!"

*********
Hi. My name is Annie. I'm a school supply list-a-holic. I'm about to go school supply shopping without a list for the first time in over a decade...

Hi, Annie!
*********
Oy.

Oh, well.

One notebook at a time.

Friday, August 10, 2007

WAXING REMINISCENT

Do you remember JFK?

I certainly do.

And the blog, "I Remember JFK" is an excellent place for Baby Boomers to visit and reminisce about all things Baby Boomerish from our childhoods...

If you've never visited , click here and check it out...Or click on the link on my links list.

Today's post is about, of all things, those grisly Charles Manson murders back in August of 1969...but I do remember them...they happened around the same time as my big outdoor slumber party...some of you reading this blog may remember it...

We slept in the backyard, and held "seances" and spun ourselves around to make ourselves dizzy...had to go inside in the morning because it started raining...turned out to be a day of tornados in Cincy...was that the tornado that wrecked the Bingo tent at the St. Gertie's festival that summer? I think we went on a scavenger hunt that night, organized by noneother than my big sister, otherwise known by most as Sissy.

Anyway...

It's Friday and I am pulling shelves, which is a nice switch from schlepping groceries up front... I don't have to be perky (although I am feeling rather OK today) and I find straightening the shelves therapeutic.

Hey, it's cheaper than Prozac.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

THANKS, BETH-O!

Merry Christmas to me and the fam!

My dear friend Beth not only sent me a taste o'Skyline and Frisch's Tartar Sauce, but threw in some Montgomery Inn BBQ Sauce and and some LaRosa's sauce as well...and some ADORABLE toys and treats for Mimi, our rather emotionally-charged rat terrier!

It's ribs, tonight!

Love you, Beth!

I am so blessed...

MYSTERY PACKAGES ON THEIR WAY...

So I'm standin' at the cash register, doin' my Thursday morning grocery schleppin' thing, and my friend, Geri, the postal carrier, comes burstin' thru the door laughin' and grinnin' and sayin', "Girl, you've got two big packages from Ohio waitin' for you at the post office...maybe it's the chili and the tartar sauce...or your missing underwear!"

(It's a small town...everybody knows about the missing tartar sauce, chili, and underwear.)

Omigod!

Could it be? From whom? Which one of my adoring friends sent me replacement tartar sauce and chili? (I dare say the underwear is a moot point.)

Geri says there's no return address...they're just from Ohio...

Ironically, just last night, I heated up a pan of Skyline chili (one of three out of the original five cans that DID make it through the US mail) and had me three yummy Skyline Cheese Coneys...

I only wept for an hour...

Nah. Just joshin'...

Actually, I am SO over my Cincy Vacation Lag...

Geri says she'll drop the boxes off at the store...

I feel like a kid at Christmas!

Stay tuned!

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

WHY DON'T CANNIBALS EAT CLOWNS?


Because they taste funny.

(Thanks, Natalie Ann, I needed a good laugh!)

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

BUT WHERE'S MY COFFEE CUP?

At last!
Some good news this a.m. from our friends the French researchers...

Click here to read all about how caffeine is our buddy...

Monday, August 06, 2007

SEX, CLUTTER AND WEIGHT LOSS

One of the exciting aspects of my life as a grocery schlepper is that I get to check in the magazines every Monday morning...

Yes, I start off my week with all the dish on all the Hollywood stars at my fingertips -- The National Inquirier and The Globe (both magazine journalism icons, I know), and I speed read all the helpful how-to stuff in all the women's magazines -- Woman's Day, Family Circle, Cosmopolitan, Glamour -- as I check them off on the sheet.

Lately, while perusing the headlines, it has come to my attention that women's magazine publishers/editors apparently believe there are only three things that women really care about: sex, clutter and weight loss.

And not necessarily in that order.

I think, actually, that it all has to do with the age group a magazine is marketed toward.

I mean, let's be honest...Cosmo and Glamour are not geared toward women 50 and over. Probably more like women 18-25. And those are the mags, filled with pics of bone-thin temptresses in little or no garb, inviting you to read up on all the advice you will ever need need to sexually satisfy your man.

(I usually stick those mags on the back shelf...I mean, this IS a family grocery store...)

I think the mag publishers and editors figure that women from 25 to 35 are busy putting all that sex advice to work, seducing men willy nilly, and don't have time to read. Until they get married, that is. And a few kids come along. And the varicose veins start popping up, and they develop those little belly pouches.

And suddenly, or so it is presumed, women aged 35 and over don't really care if Mr. Studley is satisfied sexually. The mag publishers and editors then apparently figure that these women look and feel frumpy and would rather putz around the house in a shift, clean, and read women's mags while wolfing down bon-bons. They figure these women need a little encouragement.

Check out this month's Woman's Day:

"Get Rid of Clutter For Good"

"Trim That Tummy in Just 3 Weeks"


"How To Look 5,10, 15 Years Younger!"

Last month's Woman's Day issue?

"Walk Off Weight! New 4-Week Plan!"

"38 Super-Speedy Ways To Clean!"

"Dress 10 Pounds Thinner!"

"One Minute Health Busters"

Or check out this month's Family Circle:

"Get Slim Fast!"

"Clear The Clutter! Quick And Easy Organizing!"

And do you know what I bet most of that "clutter" is?

Why, back issues of Cosmo and Glamour, of course.

Well, gotta get back to work.

I'll have to wait for my lunch break to read about Lindsay Lohan's secret affair that destroyed her life...

HAVE A GOOD ONE!

Sunday, August 05, 2007

SNAP OUT OF IT, GIRL

So we finally got some rain...not much, but at least it was something.

And, thankfully, this afternoon is overcast....muggy, but at least the sun isn't out so I don't have to feel guilty that I don't feel sunny.

Of course, it wigs the fam out just a hair when ol' Normally Perky Pollyanna Mom is curled up in the fetal position, sobbing, and watching Thelma and Louise for too long...

I'm sure I'll snap out of it soon...or just plain snap.

Next vacation, I've decided, I'm going to some Third World country where I have no emotional ties and life is treacherous and stark so that when I return home, I'll be chomping at the bit to get back to my reality.

Cincinnati Vacation Lag is not for the weak of heart. However, it's nothing a little time, distance and a daily IV of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey Ice Cream won't eventually quell...

Oh, well. This, too, shall pass.

Nevertheless...Somalia, here I come.

I'll send postcards.

God, I wish it was fall...

Maestro, a little something to sulk by, please...


Bring OnThe Rain
by Jo Dee Messina

Another day has almost come and gone
Can't imagine what else could go wrong
Sometimes I'd like to hide away somewhere and lock the door...
A single battle lost but not the war.

'Cause, tomorrow's another day
And I'm thirsty anyway
So bring on the rain
It's almost like the hard times circle 'round
A couple drops and they all start coming down
Yeah, I might feel defeated, I might hang my head
I might be barely breathing - but I'm not dead, no

'Cause tomorrow's another day
And I'm thirsty anyway
So bring on the rain
I'm not gonna let it get me down
I'm not gonna cry
And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight

Cause tomorrow's another day
And I am not afraid
So bring on the rain

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

TOO-DA-LOO TARTAR SAUCE

Somewhere out in that vast black hole I call the U.S. Postal Service Lost Items Dept., are two jars of Frisch's Tartar Sauce, two cans of Skyline Chili, a sack of my new, albeit needs-to-be-laundered, underwear and one tennis shoe...and a pair of sandals. Oh, and one plush dog.

Likewise, there is a woman somewhere out there,Size 22, who is missing a rather ugly denim haltar top she apparently just bought from JC Penney, a ripped sun dress, and a very small, tattered red sweater... I know this because those items were in MY package that was supposed to contain the above mentioned tartar sauce, dirty laundry, etc.

Yes, the U.S. Mail strikes again.

Somewhere in the shipping and handling process, the box I had mailed (containing items I couldn't fit in my suitcases on my return trip) from Cincy split open, and by the looks of the contents that did make it here, the whole kit-and-kaboodle was run over several times by the greasy tires of a mail truck.

Arghghghghg.

Nothing says, "Hey, girl, your vacation is over, done, kaput" quite like opening a box that you think holds precious vacation memories-- not to mention your underwear and other clothes -- only to find several said "valuables" missing and those remaining, ruined.

And what the hell am I to do with a Size 22 sun dress and an ugly denim haltar top from JC Penney? And the tattered red sweater? I do think it is small enough to fit my rat terrier, Mimi, however.

And to think that someone may be gleefully slathering MY tartar sauce on THEIR burgers...I shudder to think about the fate of my underwear...

Oh, well.

One must get smacked back into reality somehow. Not that I haven't had my share of reality "smacks" this week...but I digress.

What's a little missing tartar sauce in the big scheme of things? Besides, the tartar sauce never tastes as good on MY burgers as it does on a Frisch's Big Boy, with French fries, while actually sitting at a Frisch's restaurant in Cincy.

It's just not the same.

In fact, enjoying and then finishing a jar of Frisch's tartar sauce back here in Iowa only makes me yearn for more. It has even, on occasion, caused bouts of homesickness and mild depression.

Some things are just better left as vacation memories.

Bottom line is, vacation isn't reality and reality is no vacation.

Hence, the following lesson learned (finally, after all these years):

Sometimes, a taste of Frisch's tartar sauce, like a "taste" of vacation, is worse than none at all.


Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Memories light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories
Of the way we were...
Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another
For the way we were...
Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Or has time re-written every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?
Memories may be beautiful, and yet
What's too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget...
So it's the laughter
We will remember
Whenever we remember
The way we were...


Sunday, July 29, 2007

When you're down and troubled,
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, whoa, nothing is going right...

Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name,
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running, oh, yeah, baby
To see you again.

Winter, spring, summer, or fall,
All you have to do is call
And Ill be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.
You've got a friend.

If the sky above you
Should turn dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind should begin to blow...

Keep your head together
and call my name out loud
And soon, soon I'll be knocking upon your door.

You just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again.

Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you got to do is call
And I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, ain't it good to know that you've got a friend?
People can be so cold.
They'll hurt you and desert you.
Well, they'll take your soul if you let them.
Oh, yeah, but don't you let them.

You just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again.

Oh, babe, don't you know that
Winter, spring, summer or fall,
Hey, now, all you've got to do is call.
Lord, I'll be there, yes I will.

You've got a friend.You've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.

You've got a friend.



Thursday, July 26, 2007

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES...PLEASE STAND BY

I'm having some probs uploading my pics...
For those of you waiting breathlessly to see more, please come back soon.
Gotta preserve those memories...they're all that's left you...
Must go schlep foodstuffs.
Me & Holly
(She was also brave enough to visit me in Iowa once...)

'WE MAY NEVER PASS THIS WAY AGAIN' WHIRLWIND TOUR SUMMER 2007

That's me and Linda, the birthday girl.

If it weren't for the fact that Linda's generous and fun-loving hubby, Mike, flew me in to surprise the ol' gal for her 50th b'day, the "We May Never Pass This Way Again Whirlwind Tour Summer 2007" would not have been possible.

Thanks, again, you guys! How can I ever thank you enough?

Our senior year -- months before we were to graduate-- I wrote Linda a letter with the words to Carly Simon's little-known song,"Reunions". Yes, miles before we were to take our first step down the aisle to the bittersweet strains of Pomp and Circumstance, I was already waxing melancholy, sure that once we left the hallowed halls of high school, I would never see Linda or anyone else from our gang again.

Ha! Still crazy -- and bestest friends -- after all these years. (Note: Linda is one of two brave friends to make the trek to Iowa in the 20-plus years I've lived here.)

Nevertheless, now that we're all in our AARP years,"Reunions" speaks to me even more...

First one in the city.
Wearin' all those grass stained jeans
Nothing is forgotten, everyone is pleased
Someone got his hair cut
The girls have lots to say
His friends had felt more comfortable
With it worn the other way...

And I don't know if I'll see you again...

Next one at the old house
Snow is on the ground
Photographs and wine are passed around
Someone toasts an absent friend
Another takes his seat
They gather round the dying fire
But the circle's not complete

And I don't know if I'll see you again...

Last one by the highway
Wind blows through thin smiles
Someone made a wrong turn
Missed a joke by miles
Someone got their hair cut
A tear is in her eye
But no one even comments
Except to say 'goodbye'

And I don't know if I'll see you again...

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

WHAT I LEARNED ON VACATION

Day 2 back in reality...

Actually, real life isn't all that bad...like everything else, it's all a matter of perspective.

Sometimes going "home" to Cinci only serves to remind me what I have, in some instances, forfeited, as it were, by establishing/re-establishing my life in Iowa. Then again, maybe some of those things "lost" should lost remain. It's the ol' glass half empty/half full/be careful what you wish for scenario.

They say you can't really go home again...but God knows I've given it the ol' college try. And in doing so this last time, here is what I've learned:

1. White Castle "sliders" -- with extra pickles -- really do taste best at 3 a.m.


2. No one remembers "Speedy" Joe Duncan, MHS Class of '72. (My apologies to Speedy if somehow he bumps into this blog...who knew?)


3. Makeup bought on vacation is oh, so much more exciting than the same makeup bought at home.


4. If I could afford it, I could easily live the life of a sloth and not feel guilty about it.


5. You can never have too many Big Boys with extra tartar sauce...and The Mainliner is THE best place to enjoy them.


6. Mary Kay has more lip stick colors than Carter has little pills.


7. We really are as young as we feel.


8. Time flies at the speed of light, especially on vacation.



9. Misty water-colored memories of the way we were become misty-er per each glass of wine.



10. I have the best friends in the world.

11. I really don't want to be a grocery schlepper the rest of my life.

COMING SOON...

Picture Postcards From The Edge (Of The Pool)

Silver Spring House: The Pictorial

And more...

:)

Monday, July 23, 2007

CINDERELLA SYNDROME

Coming home from a perfect vacation -- also known as "snapping back into reality" -- is no different than Cinderella's gorgeous gown suddenly morphing back to tattered rags at the stroke of midnight after the prince's ball, her beautiful coach once more a mere pumpkin.

Reality-- after vacating one's life and responsibilites for nearly 10 days -- bites.

"But it's not like this all the time," my friend Holly assured me before I left Cinci. "No one gets together unless you come to town."

And Linda swears she doesn't spend every waking, sunny hour by her pool, that life in Blue Ash, OH isn't all Starbucks Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino Grandes and LaRosa's Pizza.

I know, I know.

But God, it was great to see everyone, to stop the dizzying carousel we call life, relax, laugh, have fun...and seeing Fountain Square and the rest of Cinci's downtown by horse-drawn carriage?

Like I always say, girls just wanna have fun. Especially 50-year-old girls.

Oh, well...

I must unpack my suitcase of memories, don my grocery schlepping garb, throw in a load of laundry...pay some bills... feed the cat...walk the dog...


Maestro, a little something from the Elton John 70s archives, please...

I hope the day will be a lighter highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travellers to go...

Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything's all right...

It seems to me a crime that we should age
These fragile times should never slip us by
A time you never can or shall erase
As friends together watch their childhood fly...

Saturday, July 21, 2007

AND IT'S GOODBYE AGAIN...

Elton John was wrong.

He once crooned that "sorry seems to be the hardest word".

I disagree.

"Goodbye" is, hands down, the hardest word to utter...without bursting into tears...at least for me it is.

Today is my last full day in the Homeland...my stomach is in knots and I'm feeling a little anxious...

I officially began my goodbyes yesterday. My dear friend, Holly Berry (no lie) stopped by for an hour or two for a few final laughs and hugs and promises to do a better job of keeping in touch...

Tomorrow will be the tough one...I will not be boarding the plane dry-eyed.
Chances are, I might be pie-eyed...nah, just jokin'...I have to make sure I make my O'Hare to Des Moines connection...:)

Anyway...

They say home is where the heart is. Cinci is the home of my heart. It is where I grew up. It is where my lifelong girlfriends -- the ones who truly know me and all my issues and quirks and idiosyncracies and love me and stand by me anyway -- live.

My late mother's best friend, Dottie -- I still call her Mrs. B. (also known as my second mom) -- is under strict advisement to never move from her home because it is just like my childhood home, and still holds so many wonderful memories of all those innocent years spent there...it is as close to going home again as I can get.

I am going to Dottie's today...it is always a bittersweet experience.

(A side note: My old elementary school at the end of my old street has been bulldozed and replaced with a new modern building...a bit of a shock to my inner child, but time does march on...)

Last night, my friend Holly called after we said our goodbyes because she was at a birthday party attended by one of our old junior high teachers...Mr. Kerns was my 8th grade science teacher, and for the most part, he scared the hell out of me...but he was one of my favorite teachers...even though I hated science...

It was great to talk to him...yes, he remembered me...and I took the time to tell him how much I appreciated him as a teacher...not that hearing that will change his life or anything, but I am a firm believer that we really need to tell people how much we liked/loved/appreciated/learned from them when we have the chance because (enter Seals and Croft) we may never pass this way again.

In fact, for those who may not know this, I dubbed my trip to Cinci my "We May Never Pass This Way Again Whirlwind Summer Tour 2007"...I mean, geez, we all are turning 50...life's third act is underway...

Nancy, Chris, Brad....I know you think I'm crazy for worrying that one or more of us might not make it to the next reunion, but we still have THREE years...I'd rather hedge my bets and and I am glad, so glad, we could get everyone (that's anyone) from the Class of '75 together NOW! :)

Anyway...I still have 24 hours to relish my time here in Cinci...the pool is calling -- and my buddy Linda and I still have a few laughs and giggles to share.

Meanwhile, I must steel my heart for the inevitable...

Thursday, July 19, 2007

V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N

Have you missed me?

I've been in Cinci -- my homeland --for a week -- lounging by the pool, seeing old friends, laughing, crying...

Possibly a key lime martooni, er, martini, or two...

Tonight a mini Class of 1975 reunion with a few OLD friends, trying to remember OLD times, ought to be fun....

As a side note: A belated so-long-been-good-to-know- to The Life of TLC... actually, it was a faithful Cinci blogger was the one to let me know of Tyler's decision to hit the ol' "delete" button. I hadn't been blogging for a week, so I was completely behind the times on all things Stuart...

Also, I had planned on waxing philosophical about my life as a blogger, etc., on July 15 -- the one-year anniversary of the creation of The Home Stretch...but I was busy tanning by the pool, laughing, crying, and enjoying a key lime martooni...etc., etc.

I am sure I will have more insight and philosophical wisdom following my journey to The Homeland, hours of mingling with my childhood peeps, and a belly full of Skyline Chili (two cheese coneys, mustard, no onion), a Frisch's Big Boy (with extra tartar sauce), and four White Castle sliders with extra pickles...good times, good times!

I've seen the downtown Cinci skyline, my old street, my old friends...and I must say, that for turning the Big 5-0 this year, we all look damn good.

I'll post some pics when I return...

I am at peace. I am one with the universe. I am on vacation.

Later!

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

IF ONLY I'D HAD ONE...

Pizza, pizza, pizza!

It's a good thing my 14-year-old son loves pizza, cuz that's about all I'm up for cookin' after a long day schlepping groceries at the local Super Valu.

Some might currently blame my hatred of cooking/baking on the relentless, sweltering heat. Who wants to turn on the oven when it's 88 degrees in the kitchen already? (Our air conditioning is on the fritz.)

But here's the truth...

I blame my lack of culinary ingenuity on the fact that I never had a Kenner Easy Bake Oven.

Never.

My childhood best friend, Valli, had an Easy Bake Oven, however.

And I was GREEN with envy. I loved spending the night at her house and "baking" by lightbulb one of those adorable little Easy Bake Oven Cakes.

It was too cool.

She also had the Barbie Dreamhouse, and some cool plastic go-go girl wigs for playing dress-ups. But the Easy Bake Oven was my heart's desire.

Seems I'm not the only Boomer gal -- or guy -- with fond memories of the Easy Bake Oven.

For a bittersweet stroll down Easy Bake memory lane, click here...

Have a great Wednesday!


Saturday, July 07, 2007

CHANGE IS GOOD

If you've been hooked on The Eye, you need to check out The Voices of Stuart, Peg's new blog. I've added it to my links.

It looks great, and it's exciting to have a new Stuart news/discussion format to explore.

(Peg is a brave woman -- blogging all that is Stuart is not for the faint of heart...but she has proven herself up to the challenge.)

Speaking of exploring...

I spent the day exploring the new Walgreens in Carroll with a couple of girlfriends...you'd think I'd been on a cruise, I am so relaxed after a day at The Wall with my peeps...

Walgreens is a nice change from that other "Wal", if you catch my drift.

Change is good. Without it we die. And we miss out on some great makeup lines and nail polish colors, too...:)

Friday, July 06, 2007

CLOSURE AND THE ART OF MATCHING SOCKS

I am as excited as everyone else in the Stuart blogosphere to see the results of the "Name That Blog" contest as The Eye takes its rightful place in Stuart blog history and Peg's new blog is unveiled.

It's so much fun now to just read the blogs, observe the antics of some, and then walk away...shut off the computer...read a book...it is amazing to me how much free time I have to accomplish other things now that I am no longer blogging about Stuart.

Things like laundry...my family hasn't had matched socks in a year...now they do. Yee-hah!

Things like catching up with my friends -- OK, so I still didn't get my friend Linda's birthday card in the mail in time...some time/organizational deficiencies die hard.

I have, with my new-found extra time and the help of my loving sister, organized my closets, my kitchen cupboards, my bathroom shelves...a place for everything and everything in its place, as the old saying goes.

And I guess, on the eve (or close to) the unveiling of Peg's new blog, that's how I am looking at The Eye's "retirement", as it were. The Eye had its place, its time, its purpose, its glory, its good and bad times...it had a life of its own.

The Eye was not the first Stuart blog -- that honor goes to Nate Westre's Good Egg Gazette -- nor was it the last. But it stood out from the rest because it offered honest-to-God news reporting in blog format...citizen journalism. It also opened the door to some hard-hitting editorializing that cut to the chase on more than one issue.

Sure, it got people's dander up -- being forced to think, to face the truth, will do that.

It's only right-- and natural -- for Peg to create and continue her own brand, her own style, of blogging . It is the logicial and necessary next step.

Of course, I find so darn amusing those who would give their eye teeth if Peg could/would delete The Eye -- as if it never existed...you know, sort of like what young Mr.Coe did with his original blog...kept the site meter but ditched the reality...the good,the bad and the ugly that made up Stuart politics this past year.

Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, folks.

But I digress.

Indeed, it's time to close the door, turn the page, and start anew a fresh chapter in that whacky world we've all come to know and love as the Stuart blogosphere.

It's been a great place to visit -- and once upon a long time ago, I lived there.

It was real. And it was fun. And for the most part, it was real fun.

Goodbye, IEYE NEWS. Hello,??????

And the winning name is...

Meanwhile, I've got a rogue sock in need of a mate...gotta go!

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Monday, June 25, 2007

SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT FAILURE

Seems one of my chicken-hearted anonymous Stuart detractors finds it great fun to leave snide comments on my Father's Day post since I blocked comments on the "Changing Of The Guard" piece.

Ah, the beauty of comment moderation...

But his or her most recent comment inspired me to write about the very thing he or she is ridiculing me for...namely, failure.

He or she infers -- and finds it "too funny"-- that (in his or her eyes, apparently) my stints at The Stuart Herald, The West Central Valley Voice,The Independent Eye, and my husband's stint in the Methodist Ministry, all failed.

Funny, but I don't see our experiences in those areas as failures at all.

My two years or whatever at The Herald were some of my most prolific years journalistically. I managed to write a weekly column every week -- no small feat -- and many people enjoyed my columns. I wrote about important issues of the day, and human triumph and tragedy,and even won third place in the Iowa Newspaper Association annual contest.

I was fired unfairly, and I believe it was the corporation that owned the paper at the time that eventually handed the paper back over to its owner because, indeed, IT failed to make a go of things.

The best part of being fired, of course, was that it fired me up to start The West Central Valley Voice...we grew the paper from scratch and in a very short time, sported a circulation of roughly 800 a week -- and all from our homes and in addition to our day jobs. We covered four communities like a blanket, and we scooped The Herald on every major story.

Of course, The Voice was never about making money...it was a moral victory and a journalistic labor of love like no other. The time it took to run the paper from the editing side, however, eventually took its toll on my health. And I had a choice to make...my health or the paper.

I chose my health.

It was not an easy decision. I loved The Voice. We all did. And we loved and are still very proud of what we accomplished in 2 1/2 years.

The Eye failed? Oh, reeeely? I dunno. More than 33,900 hits since its inception...and it's still up and running nearly a year later. Just because Suz and I decided it was time for us to move on and officially hand it over to Peg, does not constitute a failure. The Eye has evolved, and is still evolving...and growing by hundreds of hits practically every day.

As for the ministry...they crucified Jesus. Was his ministry a failure? I think not. We chose to leave the ministry for several reasons, but the lives my husband touched with his ministry were numerous. And you never really know how the spiritual seeds you plant grow. Yes, there were some tough times, and not everyone agreed with everything my husband said or did. I challenge you to show me a ministry where there aren't differing opinions and behind-the-pastor's-back murmuring. Such is life in the ministry, Methodist or otherwise.

Anyway, Anonymous, if your comments were meant to hurt my feelings, they did just the opposite.

Writing about my adventures in journalism and the ministry only makes me appreciate these life experiences even more. At least I've had the guts to take a few risks.

It's been a crazy ride. Wouldn't have missed any of it for the world.

Afterall, as someone once said...

"The only real failure in life is the failure to try."

Saturday, June 23, 2007

CHANGING OF THE GUARD

Whew.

I feel like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

My friend/co-blogger Susan and I have officially handed over The Independent Eye to our esteemed colleague, Peggy.

If not familiar with The Eye, click on the link and check it out. Start back in the archives, back to the beginning-- Aug.13, 2006. Interesting stuff. If you love soap operas, you'll love The Independent Eye.

The Eye was a creative experiment, and we accomplished what we set out to do -- shine some light on some dirty backroom politics taking place in Stuart, IA.

Our blogging didn't erase the dirty politics, as evidenced by more recent posts by our pal Peggy. But like shining a flashlight on cockroaches in the middle of the night, it made it harder for the dirty politicians to survive without scrambling for cover.

And now, we pass the flashlight to Peggy for good...

Ahhh. Sweet relief.

You see, if you read enough of the comments, and the other back-and-forth, you will discover that the nasty-stupid-call-them-what-you-will underbelly of the Stuart populace didn't much care for me and Suz. We hit a nerve, crossed their territory one too many times. They tried to run us out by degrading us and our families, and while we continually beat them over the head with the truth -- and the truth HAS prevailed -- the bottom line is...you can't fix stupid.

Irritating, like hemroids, is the best way to describe some of the "anonymous" commenters we were dealing with. I believe I called them "a brood of vipers" in my final comment the other day...

Anyway, our friend Peggy is a bright, intuitive, "here's what I think" kinda gal, and a helluva good writer. And to top it all off, she lives in Stuart, and commands the respect of the vipers. She is kickin' blog butt and takin' names...and more power to her.

It's just time for me and Suz to move on. To let Stuart politics go.

So we officially passed the torch.

Peggy's been carrying the blog on her own, really, for some time now.

The vipers are happy, and so are we.

Susan and I are proud of The Eye...we created it, we designed it, we gave hours and hours of our personal time to it...and we ferreted out the truth and blogged it, much to the chagrin of our detractors.

The dirty Stuart politics will go on -- they have for eons -- but no longer do they go on under cover of complete darkness. The Eye, from its start, provided a much-needed checks-and-balances look atthe local political issues, and now Peggy carries the torch.

What direction Peggy takes The Eye is her business.

Suz and I said what we had to say, when it needed to be said, and we leave The Eye on our grounds, at our timing, in the most capable, talented bloggng hands in Stuart.

Here's looking at you, Stuart! It's been real!

Blog on, Peg!

Sunday, June 17, 2007

THINKING OF YOU, DAD

Maybe it was the fact that I could not recall my user name and password to sign in to my own blog.


Maybe it was the fact that it is June 17 and I have not posted since March.


Or maybe it's the new diet program I just joined.


I dunno.


I feel compelled to update my blog and start writing again.


Let's start with the June 17th angle...omigosh! It's Father's Day!


John's big present is letting him sleep in and not be responsible for pottying the puppy (a new addition to our family since my last post.) I've also promised him a foot rub...he's working three jobs right now and those dogs are darn tired.


Of course, a Father's Day doesn't go by that I don't miss my father, who died 10 years ago.


Not that we were particularly close...


In fact, I always wished that Hallmark would come out with a special line of holiday cards targeted for dysfunctional families. You know..."You were never really there for me, Dad, but gosh darn it, I love you! Happy Father's Day!"


Something like that.


Maybe a picture on the front of the card sporting an empty 12-pack of beer...


Not that I am bitter.


'Cuz the truth is, all parents damage their children in some respect. However, I know, at the ripe old age of almost-51 that most Dads -- and most Moms -- do the best they can with the parenting skills they have in raising their children.


Hey,Dads make mistakes. And children, bless their hearts, are forgiving, loving little creatures.


No matter what, your Dad is your Dad.


And, no matter what, and despite his shortcomings, he deserves a day to be celebrated.


Happy Father's Day, Dad!


I love you.



You who are on the road
Must have a code
that you can live by

And so become yourself
Because the past
is just a good bye.

Teach your children well,
Their father's hell did slowly go by,
And feed them on your dreams
The one they picked, the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why,
if they told you, you would cry,
So just look at them and sigh...
and know they love you.

And you, of tender years,
Can't know the fears
that your elders grew by

And so please help them with your youth,
They seek the truth
before they can die.

Teach your parents well,
Their children's hell will slowly go by,
And feed them on your dreams
The one they picked, the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why,
if they told you, you would cry,
So just look at them and sigh...
and know they love you.

Friday, March 09, 2007

IT'S MY NEMESIS' BIRTHDAY

Happy Birthday, Barbie!

Yes, today is the official "birthday" of everyone's favorite fashion doll -- Barbie.

I hate her.

Always have.

I think my late mother, God rest her soul, hated Barbie, too, cuz she never bought me one. Not one.

Oh, I had a Little Miss Revlon doll -- a hand-me-down from my older sis. And a Babette doll -- the cheap grocery store version of Barbie (yikes).

And I had a Tressy and a Francie -- all Barbie wannabes.

But no Barbie. Until I was 30, and my good friend Linda surprised me with my first Barbie.

Too late.

I stuck her in the attic.

Impossible fashion and figure standards hve been set by that woman -- and frankly, Barbie has not always been the brightest bulb in the pack. Yet somehow she's managed to have some of the most exciting and interesting careers...

How DOES she do it?

Well, more on my nemesis later.

Must get to my job...doubt very much you'll ever see a Grocery Schlepper Barbie...

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

THANK GOD FOR CLARENCE BIRDSEYE

TV dinners.
Boil-in-bag lasagna.

Frozen pizza, waffles, pancakes.

Where would my family be today if not for the wonders of frozen food?

Starved, I tell you. We'd be be starved.

Well, not really. John is the cook in the family -- and an excellent one, I might add.

But those days when John is working overtime or out of town...and it's Mama's turn to cook...well, nothing beats a frozen Tony's Pizza.

Just ask my son, Daniel.

Let's just say that Clarence Birdseye, the beloved Father of Frozen Foods (he developed the flash-freeze method that makes all our lives a little easier today), is a patron saint at our house.

One of my husband's favorite memories from the early days of our marriage is the time he was bedridden up in our loft bedroom, and had to rely on me to bring him up a meal. What to do? Frozen boil-in-bag lasagna ( drop bag in boiling water for 5 min.), as it turns out, was the frozen food entree du jour.

Sad thing was, I was somehow distracted, boiled the sucker dry, and poor John was a mighty hungry man that night...

I believe that instance was the impetus for the Swanson HungryMan frozen dinner line, but I can't say for sure...

Anyway, today is National Frozen Food Day, so celebrate accordingly.
If your husband asks you out for a fancy dinner, protest alluringly and whisper seductively in his good ear, "Sorry, darling, but it's National Frozen Food Day. We're having Stouffer's Frozen Meat Lasagna."
And then watch the romantic sparks fly!

Sunday, March 04, 2007

WHY SOME RELATIONSHIPS GO DOWN THE TUBES

by Ann Kult

Twenty-seven years ago today, my husband met the woman of his dreams...

And then he met me.

Badabump.

No, seriously, folks...We met at a local eatery during an afterwork get-together...it was a Tuesday...

"Once upon a March 4th dreary..."

It was a snowy day -- not as snowy as the past few days here in Iowa -- but it was snowing...

"He, a carpenter, strong and able,
Happened by the writer's table..."

John and I have been through a few career changes since then...more than two decades of marriage, of course, bring with them more than career changes.

I'd be lying if I said we'd never faced any challenges or tough times in our relationship...

But nothing can come between two lovebirds faster than the debate over that age-old rascally relationship wrecker, the toothpaste tube. Well, maybe the whole "toilet seat up or down" issue, but that's fodder for another column.

Anyway...Here's to decades-long relationships and the sense of humor required to make them last!

"Quothe the carpenter and the writer...'Evermore.' "

Sunday, October 15, 2006

AARP...ARGH! BUT THEN AGAIN...

by Ann Kult

Well, it's official.

In fewer than 10 days, I will be eligible for membership in the American Association of Retired People (AARP).

Argh!

I'll turn 50 on Oct. 24 . I'll turn 50 on Oct. 24. (I keep repeating it so it will sink in).

So this week I get in the mail a pre-AARP membership card tucked inside an envelope sporting a supposedly 50-year-old fantastic looking woman cozily napping alongside the ocean.

Obviously, this alleged half-a-century-old woman does not live in Iowa and work part-time at a grocery store.

Do you still get to join if you can't afford to retire until you're 110?

"How comfortable should 50 be?" the advertisement asks.

How comfortable, indeed.

In a perfect world, I imagine, a tad more comfortable than I am feeling right now. Although I must admit, my trusty 13-year-old down comforter does the trick on a frosty fall night. I also enjoy a quick nap on my porch swing on a sunny fall afternoon from time to time.

But I digress.

Inside the envelope, I am assured by my fellow half-centurians: "There's a lot ahead of you. AARP is dedicated to making it easier for you."

Oh, really? Do tell...

"50. Feels good doesn't it" the somewhat annoying PR piece continues.

Well, what do they mean by "feels good"? I will go so far as to say that 50 does feel good from the vantage point of, say, the alternative...that being death, of course. And 50 doesn't feel too bad overall until I have to kneel down to pick something up off the floor, and I no longer just spring back up.

But sure, all in all, 50 feels pretty good. After I have my coffee. And a really hot shower. And a therapeutic massage. And four Extra Strength Tylenol geltabs.

Badabump.

Then they ask me, "But what do you want for the future? 50 more healthy years?"

Definitely.

"Financial security?"

That's a no-brainer.

Anyway, my sister, who turns 58 Monday, says she has made a sideline of tossing her AARP membership flyers away as fast as they arrive. But I think I will join. Why not?

I once took a gander at a copy of AARP Magazine, and there, smack dab on the cover, was that handsome, still sexy as ever, actor Richard Gere...yum. If he's 50-plus, it can't be all bad, can it?

It can? OH.

Well, I've decided to meet 50 head on, anyway. AARP membership and all.

Frankly, I think being around for half a century has been, all things considered (and after a few margaritas) a pretty cool ride. My family, my friends have all made my life's journey thus far such a blessing.

The best thing about turning 50 (besides still being alive and all)? With age comes wisdom. And perspective. Not to mention the "Hey, I'm 50, take me as I am, or don't take me; love me, love my cat" 'tude that growing older affords.

Ah! The freedom!

Well, it's Sunday. Gotta go! Things to do, places to go, people to see!

So, on behalf of Katie Couric (who turns 50 this year), Richard Gere, Cybill Shepherd, Sally Field, Robin Williams, and all my other fellow talented, sexy, still-going-strong Baby Boomers aged 50 and over, I wish you all a fun-filled, spirit-nourishing Sunday.

And remember, in the words of Grandma Moses, "Life is what you make it. Always has been. Always will be."