Sick of being sick.....

I can't remember when it was that I slept through the night. Last Sunday? I do know that I've had enough Robitussin and cough drops, plus water and orange juice, to last me the rest of my natural life. And the weather has been so, so beautiful..... and here I am, as sick as if I've been in frigid sub-zero weather this past week. Oh well, this too shall pass.

I will be missing the yard sales this weekend....... I would love to get out there, but I'm just not feeling well enough for that. Come to think of it, I haven't gone anywhere since I picked my husband up at the airport on Monday evening. That was also the last day I got dressed (really dressed) and put on make-up and did my hair. This cold is just taking forever to get out of my system.

It's 4:40 in the morning as I'm typing. A few hours ago, I found a can of Chicken Noodle soup in the kitchen pantry. I'm not a fan of that soup, especially since I don't really like chicken, and the noodles in those canned soups have been sitting in the broth so long that they taste too water-logged. However, I do realize that chicken soup really does help to break up the congestion when you've got this kind of cold. So there I was at 1:30 this morning, draining just the broth from that soup, and saving the noodles in a separate little pot, just in case my husband wants them, or maybe Gracie. The broth, along with the amount of water you're supposed to add to it, filled up my large Barry Manilow mug........ I had simmered the broth to as hot as I could stand it, and I have to say that it was the best thing I'd had all day. So good that I went back and found another can of that soup in the pantry and did the same thing..... the pile of noodles in the little pot has grown--- they put precious little chicken in that soup, let me tell you. But the broth was good, and it's doing the job of breaking up this stuff that's clogging up my chest.

That second can of soup was the last one, so I'm going to ask my husband to drive up to Kroger later on this morning for more. Maybe he can find another low-salt brand of chicken broth, one without noodles. If I keep saving these noodles from cans of soup, I'll have enough to invite the neighbors over for dinner, and I know I'm not up to that. Yuck..... I wouldn't serve those for dinner anyway.

Our television and cable service was out all day today...... went out around noon-time, and didn't come back on till one o'clock this morning. The entire area was out...... when my husband called the cable company, they gave him some sort of vague reason, and an even more vague estimate as to when service would be restored. There was an Astros game that he wanted to watch tonight. As for me, in my sick state, I didn't know how I'd get through the night without the television for company. That's what I've been doing all these nights..... sleeping on and off (mostly off) in front of the television in the TV room. I've been watching all the cooking and decorating shows, and tonight there was a program with John Edward, that guy who claims to be able to receive messages from people "on the other side." I don't know if I believe in him or not. I guess I'd like to believe that he can do that, and he seems to be right on the mark with some of the people in his audience. Sometimes I believe him, and sometimes I think he's just "selling hope."

Hope. We all want to believe in that. I hope my friend up in NY has been released from the hospital. I hope she'll be comfortable at home. I hope her body will respond to the god-awful treatments she'll be getting.

Still sick........

This is the third day of being so sick that the mere thought of putting on make-up seems like a monumental achievement. No make-up, no jewelry.... not getting dressed, not going out of the house, except for the screen porch. I swear, I can't remember the last time I was this sick. Usually I just grin and bear it with a cold..... my theory is that a cold will last seven days, whether you take medications or not. Longer than seven days, and you have more than a cold.

And I hate running to the doctor's office...... that is more trouble to me than it's worth. First of all, that office is freezing because he keeps the air conditioning up too high, or down too low, whichever way you'd like to look at it. And you sign in on that little sheet and you sit there. And sit there. All the while watching other people come into the waiting room and wonder what kinds of germs they're bringing in with them. I try to avoid the doctor's offices except for the yearly exams.

I started taking Robitussin the other day, and I could feel the stuff inside my chest loosening up. Then I ran out of the Robitussin and started to take NyQuil. What a waste...... the only effect that has on me is that it puts me to sleep, and I wake up with the same symptons. My husband ran out to Kroger late last night for more Robitussin, plus orange juice, which I've been mixing with water and drinking constantly. Since then, my fever has broken, and the stuff in my chest has loosened up and I feel like I can breathe like a normal person again. And I'm not sounding too much like Darth Vader today.

For the last two nights, I've been sleeping in my recliner in the TV room. I couldn't get comfortable in the bed, no matter how many pillows I used, plus I knew my coughing was keeping my husband awake. He hasn't caught this cold, and I hope he doesn't. So there I was, all night long, sleeping for half an hour, then waking up and watching programs on the Food Channel, the Decorating Channel, and I even watched some of the poker tournament for a while.

Thanks to the Robitussin, my cough is just about gone, so I think I'll try sleeping in the bed tonight. I truly need a good night's sleep. The reclining chair in the TV room is great, but not as comfy and as warm as the bed. ShadowBaby has been sleeping with me these past few days. He's such a Romeo of a cat, and any time I sit down, he's usually right there on my lap. Being that I haven't been feeling well, he's enjoying long naps because I'm not moving around too much. I feel like my brain is turning to applesauce here, and I can't wait for all of this to be over.

I had eMail from my friend's husband up in NY....... they did the procedure on Tuesday morning...... cancerous growth, just as they thought. He didn't mention anything about further surgery, and that has me worried. He also wrote that she would be in touch via eMail when she got out of the hospital in a few days. Needless to say, she's been on my mind constantly. I sent a card out to her on Tuesday morning, and the post office, in all their glory, sent it back to me this morning. What?! Somehow, the envelope got turned to the other side as it went through their stamping machine. Instead of her address showing on the front, my address label on the back of the envelope was used as the "front" of the envelope, and they delivered it back to me. Now how stupid is that? There's no stamp on the back of the envelope, of course, but their machines cancelled the back of that envelope with the postmark. The stamp on the front of the envelope was un-touched, so I'm just going to put it back into my mailbox in the morning. Now wouldn't you think that some postal person along the way would've seen what had happened and just used their brain a little bit and sent that letter towards NY instead of back to me?! Totally stupid and careless, in my humble opinion. No wonder everybody gets crazy when they ask for an increase in the price of stamps.

So sick.......

It's a small price to pay for a week in Hawaii, but this is one heck of a cold I've caught. I knew it would happen...... so many people on the plane coming back from Hawaii were sneezing, and some of their germs found me. My throat isn't hurting anymore, but I still can't talk above a whisper. Even though I started taking cough medicine yesterday, I coughed so much last night that my ribs are hurting today. But the real truth of my sickness-- I didn't make the bed till noon, and I didn't put on make-up this morning. No make-up. No jewelry. True signs of being sick for me.

I've been sleeping most of the day..... a nap on the sofa in the breakfast room, with ShadowBaby curled up on my chest and Mickey Kitty curled around my feet. Then I took another nap on the chaise lounge on the screen porch, and again, ShadowBaby curled up with me. Oh well, at least I got sick on the home from the trip...... I would've hated to feel this badly while we were in Hawaii.

Regardless, this cold is just a cold...... a minor inconvenience. This morning was the scheduled first of two surgeries for my friend up in NY. This morning was explorative, to allow them to see what's in there. I laughed on the phone yesterday when she told me: "I want them to look inside me and say 'this is a piece of cake.' I don't want them to look in there and find something they've never seen before."

My friend has always had such a great sense of humor...... it was nice to hear her laughing, and I was extraordinarily surprised and even pleased to hear her making jokes about such serious procedures that she will have to go through this week. A sense of humor is a wonderful thing, and if you can laugh at yourself, you can see the world more clearly.

As I stretched out on the breakfast room sofa this morning, I looked at the clock and saw that it was 8:30...... 9:30 in NY. I wondered if at that very moment, my friend in NY was getting prepped for the explorative surgery. I shut my eyes so I couldn't see the clock, and I put that picture into my mind of my friend dancing and twirling and singing at the wedding of one of her sons. That's how I fell asleep.... seeing her dancing.

Saturday, Sunday, Monday........

We left here early Sat. morning, my husband and me, and Gracie. I dropped my husband off at the airport-- he had another conference to attend in Philadelphia. I chose not to go with him this time...... I knew the contrast between last week's trip to Hawaii and this weekend's trip to the northeast would be too much for me to bear. Had there been a longer period of time between Hawaii and Philadelphia, I would've considered going. My apologies to the people in Philadelphia, but I just didn't want to get on another plane again so soon after getting off of one.

So off to the lake cottage we went, just Gracie and me. Poor Gracie...... she had never dropped off my husband at the airport before, and she didn't understand all of that. By the time we got to the lake cottage, she ran all over the property, from one end to the other, looking for my husband. Then she followed me into the house and she ran from room to room, looking for her "daddy." It took her a couple of hours to settle down.... poor dog just kept looking all over for him. She hadn't been to the lake cottage without him since we bought the property, so I guess she just assumed he would be there.

My young Miss C and her mom drove up to the cottage on Saturday afternoon, and C had another box filled with treasures for her cabin. The decoration of C's cabin has been an on-going process........ she brings more stuff up there each time they go, and her cabin is a treasure-trove of dolphin collectibles. That girl loves dolphins, and I hope she will someday achieve her goal of working with dolphins.

Instead of eating in, the four of us went into town for dinner.... slightly cloudy when we left the cottage, and dark as pitch with pouring rain when we were driving bak to the lake. A storm broke out, and as much as they need rain up there, it seemed like six-months' worth of rain was falling in less than half an hour.

C and her mom left after breakfast on Sunday morning because C had a Girl Scout meeting. I spent the morning pulling up the tomato and pepper plants from the garden. That's it for the fresh vegetables this year, but I'm sure we'll plant something in the Spring, being that the vegetable garden is all boxed in and appears now to be begging for plants.

I went into town yesterday afternoon, looking around the local consignment and antique shops, thinking I might find something for the cottage. I found lots of things, but the prices were too high. I know I can find similar things at the local yard sales, for much less money, so I'll just wait till I do. We have the necessary things up there now, so anything else can just wait. I do wish we'd find a sofa, though. The wicker chairs look perfect in that living room, but the right sofa will finish off that room.

I drove back from the lake early this morning... Gracie in the back seat.... I think she knows the routine now because she settles down to sleep in the back seat and doesn't move till we get back into town here. As a result of the long plane flight back from Hawaii, I now have a very sore throat. So sore that I could barely talk yesterday, and today hasn't been that much better.

When I got into the house late this morning, I checked for phone messages and eMails...... found a sad and disturbing eMail from a friend of mine up in NY. She's facing surgery this week..... a very frightening surgery, and after using a salt/warm water gargle for nearly half an hour, I was able to talk well enough to call her up. What do you say when you just don't know what to say? It was the saddest phone call......... before it was over, after she had given me all the facts and the possible outcomes, we both just cried. My friend is my age..... much too young and too vibrant to be going through something like this.

I won't mention her name, and not even her initials.... I know who she is, she knows who she is, and that's all that matters in this situation. I have known her for more than thirty years.... and in all that time, she was always someone that I admired. As with my dear friend Frankie, this friend of mine was never afraid to just be herself. She didn't judge anyone, was always willing to listen to the opinions of others, loved to discuss differences, respected the "live and let live" theory, and just plain was always such a nice, nice person. When we were both in our 20s, I allowed myself to be changed and molded by the circumstances in my life at that time. My decision to allow that affected the outcome of my 30s, and it wasn't till I was in my 40s that I came back into "my own self." At that time, I told my friend that I had always fully admired her because she never lost herself... not in her 20s, not in her 30s....... and she never has to this day.

So now, the thought of my friend putting herself into the hands of surgeons tomorrow morning is just plain frightening. To her, to her husband and sons, to me, and I'm sure to anyone who knows her. The last thing I told her on the phone today was to think of just one thing when they're about to put her under for the surgery---- dancing at her sons' weddings.

I am holding that picture in my mind as well. I can see her in my mind's eye...... dancing and twirling and smiling and laughing and thoroughly enjoying the music playing at her son's wedding.

Hawaiian Tid-Bits.....

Just a bunch of things that are popping in and out of my mind since we got back from Hawaii...... and if I don't type them down here, I know I'll be forgetting them, and I don't want that to happen.

The contrast between the blue-blue water and the charcoal-colored sand on the "black sand beach" was too amazing for words. I don't even know how to describe it..... the ocean was as blue as sapphire, the breaking waves were whipped-cream white, and the sand was the darkest black you can imagine........ when you looked at those three contrasting colors all together, watching the whipped-cream waves crashing at the end of the sapphire-blue water, and the splashing of those waves against that ebony-colored sand, it was all you could do not to just plain cry at the beauty of it all.

The lava fields....... we drove through them, stopping along the way to look at immense craters that were marked with the month and the year of the lava flow in that area, and we were speechless. The next day, when we visited a museum in Hilo, and watched a video of the volcano eruption in the late 1980s and 1990s, we realized that the "lava fields" that we had driven through were once thriving, happy little communities... filled with residents who had literally built their sweet little houses with their own hands. We watched that video and saw those people sitting on the side of the lava flow, watching as the hot lava slowly consumed their property and set their homes on fire... and they sat and watched. How do you fight hot lava? You don't........ you just watch it as it takes whatever is in its path. We were again speechless, at both the magic and the destruction of this thing we call "nature."

While we were walking across a lava field towards a volcano that is still pouring hot lava into the ocean, I picked up two small lava rocks. I was going to bring them home, to add to my growing collection of small rocks and shells that I keep in a glass bowl..... little remembrances of places that we've been. The lava rocks were truly beautiful--- that black-black with splashes of the bluest blue sprinkled into the ebony. My husband was not happy with my intention of taking the lava rocks back with me. He reminded me of what we had read in the Hawaiian guides.... the Hawaiian people believe that their god Pele controls the volcano and "owns" everything that flows from it and everything the lava flows onto. Which means that the lava, whether it's hot and flowing, or cold and hardened, belongs to Pele. Hawaiian tradition is that the lava stays where it lays...... in Hawaii. Taking lava rocks out of Hawaii means that Pele will be displeased, and it isn't a smart thing to displease the gods. Tourists have taken lava rocks out of Hawaii before, and have also, upon returning to their home states, sent the lava rocks back to Hawaii. This has been recorded on Internet sites by the tourists who wanted to bring the rocks home. My husband told me I could do as I wanted to, but he also told me that I would be "responsible" for those rocks. I saw the serious look in his eyes, and I put the lava rocks back in the lava fields. I'm glad I did........ it was the Hawaiian thing to do.

The birds....... as we were eating breakfast one day, we were feeding crumbs to the birds, and they were taking the crumbs right out of our hands. Tiny sparrows, doves, and jays, sitting right next to us and they weren't afraid to take the crumbs from our fingers. Mostly every place on the Island has open windows..... birds fly in and out at will, along with the tropical breezes. We had no problems with mosquitos or other bugs, and I saw no wasps and very few bees. Lots of birds, though, and they all made themselves quite at home in some of the restaurants. People who live there know enough to cover their plates with their napkins when they leave the table. Tourists who left their tables with uncovered plates quickly had the tiny birds sitting on the table picking through the leftover bits of food. Now some people might think that's just terrible hygiene, but while we were there, I thought it was just a charming, although somewhat quirky, custom. And besides, I feed the birds all the time, so sharing a table with them didn't really bother me all that much.

There's a town on The Big Island that was started in the 1960s-- by hippies. They went to Hawaii because the land was cheap, the beaches were beautiful, living was easy, and they could get out of society's mainstream. I forget now what the name of that town was, but the hippies are still there...... all much older, of course, but they still look like hippies. The beards on the men are all gray now, and so are the long braids on the women, but the dress-code is pure 1960s hippie. By the way-- a person who moves from the mainland to any of the Hawaiian islands is called a "Ha'wi."

The banyan trees..... so huge, so dense, so protective of everything that's under it. We were amazed at the size of them, most with many trunks all growing tall together, wrapped with flowering vines so the umbrella-like trees are accessorized by hundreds of beautiful blooms. There are cave-like enclosures under the biggest of the banyan trees, and I would guess that it would be a safe, dry place in a heavy rainstorm. In the front yard of one of the homes we drove by, there was a banyan tree so huge that the homeowners had built a tree house around the base of the tree, then built stairs going up to the second level of the tree house. It was so amazing that my husband stopped the car to take a photo of it. The whole structure looked like something you would see in Disney's FrontierLand.

Still on Hawaiian time........

I don't think we got over the jet-lag feeling for days after we got to Hawaii....... sure was a long flight, both going and coming home. While we were in Hawaii, we kept waking up at three o'clock in the morning, which would've been breakfast time here at home (Texas time). But then last night, my husband woke up at two o'clock in the morning, which would've been dinner time (in Hawaii's time zone). I guess our bodies are still a bit confused by all the coming and going.

We keep talking about how beautiful it was there..... no billboards, no miles of four-lane highways, no mile-high buildings, no litter to speak of along the roadway. And I still can't get over the tropical flowers...... everywhere you looked, you saw such pretty blooms. Just as we have tiny wildflowers growing here along the roads, Hawaii has huge tropical flowers wherever you look. Except, of course, in the lava fields, where the land is just covered in black lava. And the lava will be there till the earth can regrow itself, I guess. Thousands and thousands of acres of lava fields on one side of the island, and not a thing growing at all. Not even a bird in sight, nor a lizard.

Then there was another part of the island that seemed to be covered with a desert-like landscape. Everything was very brown, very dry, from the top of the mountains to the shore by the ocean. There were trees that looked like pine trees, only their branches weren't quite so full. Those trees would make pretty Christmas trees, if you liked the minimalist style of holiday decorating.

The prettiest part of The Big Island was the green, lush side...... and forgive me for not remembering if that was the east or the west, or the north or the south. As always when we're on vacation, my husband did all of the driving, so I wasn't paying too much attention to which direction we were going. (Except, of course, when I noticed that there was a "cute little shop" two streets that way, then turn left at the yellow flowering tree.)

I have a stack of beautiful postcards, showing all the views that we were lucky enough to see. Those will be my "pictures" of our trip, and I know I'll be looking at them from time to time, wondering if we'll ever go back there. I would like to........ but I'd like to see one of the other islands. Maybe Maui next time.

While we were in Hawaii, I ate mostly fruit, fish (ahi-- which is their tuna), and vegetable salads. The same things I eat here, come to think of it. Somehow, the fish was much better there, as were the salads. And the dressing on the salads--- so good..... made from all kinds of fruit juices and very good oil, and that's it. Totally delicious.... maybe that's why the salads were so good.

I splurged one morning for breakfast and ordered macadamia nut-pancakes...... now those were a treat. Light and fluffy pancakes made with buttermilk, and the batter was sprinkled with lots of crushed macadamias....... total heaven. They gave me three pancakes, and I could eat just half of what was on the plate. I hated to leave the rest, but I just couldn't eat anymore.

I usually come home with a lot of books from wherever we go, but I didn't find all that many in the little shops where we were. I had expected to find a lot of books on Hawaii's history, but the best one I found was a book of letters that Mark Twain wrote while he was in Hawaii in the late 1800s. He went to Hawaii for just one week, and ended up staying for five weeks. During all of that time, he never picked up a pen because everything was just too beautiful to look at and he didn't feel like writing there. The book is called "Mark Twain's Letters From Hawaii." I'll be reading that book for the next couple of days.

Hawaii

Aloha.......... We are back from a week in Hawaii-- on the "Big Island," as they call it there. I can't even begin to describe its beauty. Everywhere you look-- huge trees dripping with not only its own leaves but decorated in swirling, twirling flowering plants...... it was as if each tree had its own accessories.

And the water......... blue, blue, blue, as far as your eye could see. Amazing shades of blue, and if you were lucky, and the sun was hitting the water just right, you'd see an emerald green near the breaking of the waves. White sand, soft as sugar, and we even walked along a black sand beach (also sugary soft) where sea turtles napped along the shore. The turtles didn't even move as people walked right up close to them to take pictures. (Signs were posted on the beach asking everyone not to touch or feed or bother the turtles.)

The plane ride to Hawaii was long.... we were exhausted by the time we got to our rental car, but off we went, to explore the Island the way the people living there see it, not as the pampered tourists see it. Once again, I packed dressy clothes that never made it out of the suitcase. Will I ever learn?

We had to stay at The Hilton for two nights, being that my husband had to attend a conference there. Needless to say, The Hilton was very plush, very fancy, and of course-- very expensive. We hated it. I can't tell you how many times we said to one another that the cost of our lunch or dinner would give Paris Hilton more pocket money for her shopping sprees.

Our best nights were at two small, family-owned hotels....... both very clean but simple, owned by private people, not big-names that you would recognize. Neither hotel had air-conditioning, but it wasn't needed. The breezes that blew in from the ocean were amazing, and the nights were comfortably cool. We thought it was funny that our $60-per-night "mom & pop" hotel room gave us a spectacular view of the ocean, while our $250-per-night Hilton room gave us a view of a green lawn that hosted a luau-party with non-Hawaiian music playing while we were trying to recover from the jet-lag.

At our second mom-&-pop hotel, the owner had a lush multi-level tropical garden in the back of the hotel, which was home to hundreds of tree frogs who began "singing" at dusk and continued throughout the night. The hotel had supplies of ear-plugs in each of the rooms, just in case singing frogs weren't your favorite bedtime melody. Actually, I loved the frogs. They were so loud the first night we were there that I honestly thought there were loud-speakers hidden in the gardens to amplify the frog sounds. The singing was just that-- it sounded like a symphony, and it was indeed beautiful. By the second night, the frogs didn't sound quite so loud...... and the first night without the frogs-- I missed them!

We drove all over the Big Island of Hawaii, from coast to coast, along the lush tropical forests, along the coastal roads with breathtaking ocean views....... we saw everything from beautiful waterfalls to acres and acres of lava fields where neighborhoods once thrived. And rainbows--- we saw magnificent rainbows, as well as a double rainbow over the volcano that even now is still pouring hot lava into the Pacific. Everything we saw made us think we were in another world, not just another state.

Without a doubt, however, Hawaii is expensive........ breakfast, lunch, dinners...... all priced more than we're used to paying, except when we found small privately-owned restaurants that were off the beaten path....... and those always have the friendliest owners and the most delicious foods. We felt right at home in the "old Hawaii," rather than feeling like just a "room number" at The Hilton.

We could live there, in Hawaii....... somewhere on a lush, green piece of property overlooking the ocean.... but how would we get Gracie and four cats from here to there? It was just all so very beautiful....... everything I say here would sound like I was quoting from a tourist guide. It has to be seen to be believed, and it has to be experienced to be appreciated. But please... don't go to The Hilton. Paris doesn't need any more spending money.

Fly the Friendly Skies.....

Wasn't that a slogan for one of the major airlines years ago? Fly the friendly skies. American Airlines? United Airlines? It just sounds so familiar, but I can't place the slogan with the airlines.

One thing is for sure...... there isn't an airline these days who would be willing to use that slogan now. I was on the phone with the airlines the other day, asking them what items can be taken on the plane in carry-on luggage. Nothing liquid, nothing water-based. That means no toothpaste, no nail polish, no shampoo, no hair products, no mouthwash, no lotions, no gels. If you want to bring those items with you, then you have to pack them in baggage that can be "checked through to your point of final destination." That sounds so.... final.

We haven't checked luggage with any of the airlines in the longest time. We always travel with carry-on baggage. Sometimes just one carry-on for each of us, plus a small cosmetic carry-on for me. (I've learned to pack like a guy..... how scary is that?)

We'll be going to Hawaii for seven days.... my husband has a conference there. A three-day conference that he needs to attend for just one day. I get to shop while he attends the conference for that day (and my husband is thinking How scary is that?!)....... and then we'll play tourists for the other days.

My husband does a lot of computer research before we go anywhere. He makes a list of what to see, where to go, which restaurants are best.... we travel with a full printed-out schedule of everything we'll be doing once we get wherever we're going. Our vacations aren't that relaxing, since we're going from place to place trying to see as much as we can--- as in Maine, where he drove the rental car 1500 miles and we saw 22 lighthouses in seven days.

My only restriction for Hawaii is that I wouldn't take a helicopter between the islands, nor would I take those tiny planes to go "island-hopping," as they call it. I told him to pick the biggest island and there should be enough there to keep us busy for six days. We may travel more than the average couple, but I'm the most reluctant traveler, I swear. I'm not adventurous, and when I try to be (like going on that whale-watching boat).... it never works out in my favor.

We've traveled quite a lot this year.... out west to Vegas, down south to Savannah, up east to Maine, plus countless trips west into the Hill Country of Texas and around the lakes of East Texas. And just where is the best place to be...... home. Either right here, or up at Mayberry, watching the lake.

And being here, or going to the cottage, is very easy........ you don't have to worry about water-based and liquid products going into carry-on bags because down here, the skies really are friendly.

September 11th

I said that I wouldn't watch the news today...... but I did. I said that I wouldn't watch the shows featuring memorials/movies/documentaries about 9/11........ but I did that too. Honestly, how could I not?

This morning, on one of the news shows, they read every name of every person who died five years ago this day, as a result of terrorist acts that even today we can't understand or justify. I didn't listen to all the names. It was just too sad.

Last night, one of the stations here replayed the documentary made by the two brothers who set out to follow a rookie firefighter at "house" #10, near the World Trade Center. They began their filming on the morning of Sept. 11. Little did they know. I hadn't seen that film before, and I didn't realize it was on television until it was half over. I watched the second half of it. I wish I had seen it from the beginning.

I watched most of everything that was on television. My eyes kept searching the faces of the firemen, looking to see if I could find my friend's husband, who is a fireman.... he was at Ground Zero along with hundreds (thousands?) of other firefighters after all hell broke loose up in NYC that morning. Thankfully, he wasn't at the firehouse when the planes went into the towers.

I just don't understand, and I guess I never will. How can one group of people hate another group of people so much that they make elaborate plans to kill at random? And not only do they kill others, but they themselves die in the process.... and they believe to be acting with their god in their hearts.

Years ago, when President Kennedy was assassinated on the street in Dallas, the newsmen said that life would never be the same for Americans. How wrong they were. Life didn't change all that much for "regular" citizens across the country after Kennedy was killed. Granted, it made us realize just how quickly a life can be extinguished-- but didn't we really know that already?

Life in the U.S. has definitely changed since Sept. 11, 2001.... and it's not just the fact that more people than ever are hanging flags up in front of their homes and businesses, and even on their vehicles. I hate the fact that we, as a country, have to always be looking over our shoulders, so to speak. We can't just get on a plane anymore without wondering who else is getting on that plane behind us. We can't go into a neighborhood market these days without looking sideways at a Muslim woman who's covered from head to toe in fabric....... I'd like to say "This is America--- you don't have to be all covered up here." But of course you can't say that.

But I'd like to say to every group of foreign-born people: This is America. This country was born of immigrants who came here to be Americans. They learned the language. They adopted the customs, the dress, the freedom. They didn't forget the country they came from, but they surely embraced the country they came to.

There are just so many pockets of people across this nation, and across the world, who are living on the edges of society, not calling attention to themselves until they decide to bring glory to their god by destroying whatever and whoever happens to be in their path.

I watched part of a movie tonight which tried to piece together the days leading up to that 11th day of September, five years ago. In NYC and in Washington DC, life was going on as usual... people living in the cities, some on their way to their jobs, others in their homes. Half a world away, groups of men wrapped in long robes and riding camels in a desert, going into hiding because the message was brought to them that this was the day. So courageous... they went into hiding.

I looked at the television screen.... saw that desert, those camels, the men wrapped in fabric from head to toe. Nevada had a desert like that. Men stood around that desert years ago, but they weren't wrapped in fabric. They didn't go into hiding. They built hotels and casinos and homes and supermarkets.

One desert has nothing to do with the other, of course. Hotels and casinos are not the be-all and end-all of the American way of life.

September 11th wasn't the end-all of the American way of life either, but it surely changed the way we look at the rest of the world, in my humble opinion.

I'm just rambling on here... today was just a sad day. I wish I had unplugged the television sets when I got up this morning.

Weekend Getaway

Just back from three days at Mayberry. We drove up with just Gracie, and left all the cats at home with the pet-sitter. The cats, I'm sure, were thrilled. And even though I did miss them, I know better this time-- the cats don't want the car ride, and they don't want to be in any screen-porch except this one.

We had rain here while we were gone, but just a little sprinkling of rain during one night up at the lake. The full moon was beautiful up there, and the sky is just filled with stars. The sunsets every evening were gorgeous, but they always are at the lake.

I spent some time each day at the antique shops in town up there.... found a vintage rattan chair at one of the shops, so that made a nice pairing with the rattan chair that I had already put into the game room at the cottage. At another shop, I found a white wicker trunk that's working out fine as a coffee table on the screen-porch, plus I can use it to store the chair cushions when we're not there. Two purchases that made the browsing worthwhile. Whether I buy anything or not, the browsing is always fun anyway.

Being that we didn't bring the cats up to the cottage with us, we had more room in the car for stuff that we needed to get up there. Gracie shared the back seat of the car with a wicker chair that's now in the living room of the cottage. And I managed to fit a round wooden library-table into the trunk of the car-- that was a yard sale find..... a two-tiered oak table that's divided into three sections, so books can stand up all around the bottom tier of the table. Looks great up at Mayberry-- very cottage-worthy.

Each time we go up there, it gets easier and easier. There's just a couple of things left in our garage to bring up there now, but I'm sure there will be more, as I continue to go to yard sales. I missed the yard sales here this weekend, but our pet-sitter told us that it poured here on Saturday anyway. There are yard sales up at the lake on Saturdays, and I've stopped by them when I've seen them.... trouble is, the neighborhoods up there are so far apart that I don't drive out of my way for yard sales while we're at the lake. There's enough stuff for sale at the antique and resale shops, and if I shop carefully, I can find things there at yard sale prices--- without having to get up before dawn.

The alligator is still in the lake, even though the game warden has been called to come and get it. Problem seems to be that the alligator is never there when the game warden comes by. Smart alligator. The neighbors are keeping a watch on it, and some of them swear they'll shoot it if they get a clear shot. We had a clear sighting of the alligator this weekend.... he was right under our boathouse.... one eye peeking up at me as he floated there. Very tranquil-looking, I must say. But I'm sure he's not so tranquil when he's hungry. I would guess his length to be six feet.... seems like his head was enormous, and his body wasn't exactly slim so I would say he's eating very well.

I'm still reading "Under The Tuscan Sun." I had planned to finish that book this weekend, but just didn't get in enough reading time. My husband and I played Scrabble every night.... I also worked on a book of crossword puzzles, and we spent some time cleaning the leaves out of the gutters of the cottage. There are more than two dozen trees on our property there... lots of shade, lots of birds.... but also lots of leaves. Thankfully, they don't all lose their leaves as the weather gets cooler.

I hung up a hummingbird feeder at the cottage, and within the hour, we had hummingbirds all over the yard, flying back and forth to the feeder. Amazing how that red sugar-water attracts them so quickly. There is also rosemary growing in the garden, as well as bay leaves. The tomato plants are finished producing now, as well as the peppers. We'll have to plant more next Spring.... garden tomatoes can spoil you very quickly.

So can Mayberry..... it spoils us. No television, no radio, no newspapers. Just us and the lake. And Gracie, of course. I swear, that dog just loves being there. All the way home, she had the saddest look on her face.... but she was all spread out on the back seat so I guess she was happy not to have to share the space with a wicker chair.

Meow Sweet Meow

Life for our cats is now back to normal. They have all forgiven me for enclosing them in their crates and taking them in the car for the Labor Day weekend at Mayberry. I was mostly worried about AngelBoy, who has been known to get my attention by doing something stupid when he's upset about something.

Thankfully, no pay-back from AngelBoy, and he's following me around the house and sitting on top of the morning paper when I'm trying to read it. Which means that all is purrfect in his little blue-eyed kitty world.

ShadowBaby is back cuddling up in my lap whenever I sit down, purring away and keeping one of his paws on my arm or my waist or up near my neck--- whichever is more comfortable for him. He's the lap-cat in this family, and he rarely misses a chance to prove it.

Mickey Kitty has spent more time on the screen-porch since we've been home. He naps in each and every chair out there during the day, sometimes pushing one of the older cats off of the chaise lounge so he can curl up there..... which is a funny sight--- the smallest cat on the biggest chair. Mickey loves the porch here, which isn't something I can say for the porch up at Mayberry. Even though I decorated the screen-porch of the cottage to look like the porch here, the cats weren't fooled.

Not only weren't they impressed by the porch at the cottage, they had no interest in the lake, the egrets, the ducks, the view.... not even the view? I couldn't believe that when we were there, and I can't believe it still. I guess they were just too scared to explore their "new" surroundings.

I really should've known that. Especially with AngelBoy, who even gets upset when I rearrange furniture in this house. You moved the red chair to the other side of the room? Whatever for?

We're slowly getting all of my yard sale finds up to the cottage. Every time we drive there, I've got the trunk of my husband's car packed to the edges with stuff.... small tables, dresser drawers, lamps, decorative items.... and half of the back seat has either a chair or an end table or the dresser belonging to the drawers that are in the trunk. The other half of the back seat has to be saved for Gracie. When we took the cats up with us, the back seat was packed with Gracie and three cat carriers.... poor Gracie.... but the cats loved having her back there with them--- that might have been the only saving grace (pardon the pun) of the car-ride for the cats.

That was another problem with having the cats in the car--- we couldn't stop along the way. We had to pass by flea markets, antique shops, and small outdoor markets along the way to the lake. With just Gracie in the car, we could've stopped for a while and let Gracie stretch her legs and inspect the grass while one of us (guess which one....) went for a look-see into the shops.

There's no way to sight-see with three cats in the car. The only thing you can do is get from Point A to Point B as quickly as you can, because the car ride is stressful enough for most cats. I still have to shake my head in wonder when I think back to last year, when we had to evacuate this area because of Hurricane Rita. Fifteen hours in the cars..... Mickey Kitty and AngelBoy in my car, and Gracie, ShadowBaby and Rusty in my husband's car. And once we got to the house of friends where we stayed for the storm (that never hit, thank goodness) the cats were just fine for the two-and-a-half days we were there.

And talk about cramped quarters.... my four cats were in the laundry room of that house, a room that had no window, which is awful for housecats, not to be able to see out. But they were fine, quiet, well-behaved.... no meowing, no hiding, not a peep out of them. And here, we take them to a beautiful little cottage with a pretty screen-porch with a never-ending view of the lake...... and they hardly looked out into the yard, much less the lake.

Oh well.... lesson learned, as my husband would say. Unless we have to evacuate, the cats will stay right here in their own porch with their pet-sitter. Honestly.... I would've bet everything that they would've preferred to be with us. As for our 4th cat, Rusty, who stays in the backyard--- sometimes I wonder if he even knows when we've been gone. With Rusty, as long as there's someone here who fills up his food and water dishes, his life is just fine. You've heard of "The Life of Riley?"---- well, in this house, it's "The Life of Rusty."

"Under the Tuscan Sun"

This book by Frances Mayes was recommended to me by my sister, who haunts the discount aisles of her neighborhood Barnes & Noble on a weekly basis. She told me about Under the Tuscan Sun last year, and I found a hardcover copy at our Half-Price bookstore for just one dollar. How can you not buy a brand-new hardcover book for one dollar?

I keep my books-to-be-read stash in an antique sheet-music cabinet in a corner of our bedroom. All of the thin music-sheet shelves are long-gone, but the cabinet itself is lovely, and I rescued it from my mother-in-law's house when we were shipping some of her furniture here from up north. With all the confusion of the shipping, and the rearranging of furniture that was already here, my books-to-be-read pile got hopelessly out of order. As a result, books that I had recently bought were being read weeks and months before books that I had bought last year. Which is why Under the Tuscan Sun hasn't seen the light of day till this week.

And my, my..... what a beautiful book. Rich in history, Italian landscapes and vineyards, hundred-year-old stone houses, and recipes so mouth-wateringly described that you'll be hungry at the end of every chapter. I've already made pencil-notes in the front of the book so I will know which pages I want to refer to when I feel the urge to cook or bake something with a Tuscan flavor.

As the author writes about the renovation and decoration of her Tuscan farmhouse, I can't help but think about our little lake cottage. By no means are we renovating (thank goodness) but I can certainly understand Frances Mayes' desire to create a home away from home. Each time we go to Mayberry, it feels more comfortable, more furnished, more "us."

Although, with some things, my husband would say the cottage is more me...... as with the pot rack in the kitchen. A big black wrought-iron pot rack that hung from the ceiling on two silver hooks. Not an easy-on-the-eyes pot rack, mind you, but a plain farm-looking rack that could've easily held pitchforks and shovels if you hung it up in a barn.

I wanted the pot rack down and out and gone. My husband wanted it to stay there. For what? I wasn't ever going to hang pots on that thing. If you hang up pots, they get dusty, which means you have to clean them off before you use them. Not something I wanted to be doing up there. And even if we wanted a pot rack in that kitchen, the one that was there wouldn't have been the one we would've chosen. Simple logic--- get rid of the pot rack.

Which we did, finally... this last time to the cottage. And what a difference.... that black pot rack against the white ceiling, next to a white ceiling fan..... I swear, it looked like a giant spider was hanging down from the kitchen ceiling and threatening to gobble up everything in sight. Now, however, with that monstrosity gone, the entire kitchen looks open and airy, and the only division between the cooking area and the eating area is the pretty island that separates those two sections of the large country-kitchen.

And the pot rack? It's in the garage up at Mayberry. I told my husband that he can use it for hanging fishing poles, or yard tools.... anything but pots in our kitchen. He gave me that look.... the one that men give their wives when they think they've lost the battle. What battle? I just wanted that ugly pot rack out of that pretty kitchen.

The kitchen in Frances Mayes' house in Tuscany--- no pot rack. What a great book.

"Scrabble"

There indeed must be some sort of "magic" at the lake.... while we were there, I beat my husband in Scrabble -- not once, but twice. Big deal, you say? Well, it is to me. I can't remember the last time I beat him in that game. Before I met my husband, I used to beat just about everyone in Scrabble. Well, that ceased to happen once my husband and I started to play that word game.

Scrabble is my favorite board game, and his as well. (Yet another reason we had to get married.) My husband, however, can come up with at least one or two (and sometimes three) seven-letter words, which gives him fifty extra points for each, in addition to the score from the word itself. Well, let the record show (as the saying goes) that I managed to beat the King of Scrabble by managing to get my own seven-letter word down on that board on Friday night.

The last time we were up at Mayberry, I also beat him in Scrabble. The score on that game was close, so I thought it was just a fluke that I won. But this last game was a sign from the Scrabble gods.... I can still win that game. Maybe the magic only happens at the lake, so we'll have to see if I can beat him when we play here. We each came into this marriage having a Scrabble game of our own, so now we have one board here, and one at Mayberry. And two Scrabble dictionaries, thanks to a trip to Wal-Mart.... when we first started playing up there, we couldn't challenge each other's words because we didn't have the dictionary, but that problem has been solved.

The look on my husband's face was just priceless during this last game of Scrabble.... not only when I got the seven-letter word, but as the game went on and my score kept getting way more than just a few points ahead of him...... I knew what he was thinking: "How can I be losing this game?"

I patted my husband's hand and told him: "Don't worry.... what happens at the lake stays at the lake." Then after the game was over, I did my best I-can't-believe-I-beat-you-at-Scrabble-dance around the kitchen table. Victory is sweet.

Labor Day Weekend

We've just returned from our days at Mayberry.... we drove there with our dog Gracie, and three of our cats--- AngelBoy, Mickey Kitty, and ShadowBaby. I honestly thought that our cats would be happier being with us at the cottage than being here with the pet-sitter.

Silly me. Cats are cats and that's that. They want to be in their own space, and they really don't like any variations in their routine. Our vet had told me that. I should've listened. Our cats love our pet-sitter.... and they love their screen-porch here. And even though I fixed up the screen-porch at Mayberry to look like the porch here, they weren't fooled at all.

I thought Mickey Kitty, being the youngest cat, would be the most adaptable. He was the worst.... he started meowing in the car when we pulled out of the driveway, which got the other two to start. The meows lasted for the first five miles or so, then they just started to meeew quietly until they fell asleep, thankfully.

When we got to Mayberry, the cats hid under the railing of the screen-porch.... they just flattened themselves up and they were folded up in five inches of space between the floor of the porch and the bottom of the railing. Broke my heart to see that, I swear. AngelBoy didn't even sit in his favorite little chair up on that porch, and Mickey Kitty came out of his hiding space just long enough to eat and use his litter box.

At times, we opened up the window to our bedroom so the cats could go from the screen-porch to our room, but all they did was hide under the bed. They came out a little bit at night, but you could just see how frightened they were. Long story short.... it just wasn't worth it to bring them up there for just a few days. By the time they were getting settled and comfy up there, it was time to put them back into the crates to drive them home. I've already talked to the pet-sitter..... he'll be taking care of all the cats from now on when we go to the cottage.

But.... on the bright side, and there is always a bright side..... our young friend C came up to Mayberry this weekend, along with her best friend M, and her parents, of course. C and M had one fine, fun weekend.... they fished, raced boats, they played board-games, they watched the alligator swimming in the cove. M is a budding chef, and he baked a pan of cinnamon buns for all of us (from scratch)..... absolutely delicious. C caught the biggest fish of the weekend.... and my husband took a picture of her holding the fish on the line....... the pure joy that is on that child's face is just radiant. When I saw that photo, it brought tears to my eyes. C is always a happy girl, but that picture is just beyond words. I asked my husband to print out the picture for me, and I will frame it and keep it up at Mayberry.

This morning, C had set the alarm clock on her cell phone for 7:00...... when I asked her why she wanted to get up that early, she said that she didn't want to miss a minute of the morning. C told me that the lake is magic in the mornings..... "it's so quiet, and you can hear the birds and the trees, and you can see the turtles in the water... it's just all so beautiful." Well, of course I knew that, but to hear those words from a 15-yr-old girl was more magical to me than the "magic" of the lake.

C is such a special child, and I know she's going to grow into an extraordinary adult. And I've said this before..... C will be the "keeper of the memories" for my husband and I. Nothing we do for and with that child goes un-noticed or un-remembered or un-appreciated.

C and M and C's parents left the cottage about an hour and a half before we did this evening, so of course they got home first. C called us to make sure we got home, and also to ask me a question. She wanted us to think about this.... having a "small Halloween party at the cottage, with just our family ---- you and Mr. G, my mama and daddy, and me, of course." C's idea is for each of us to wear a Halloween costume, and we could make caramel apples at Mayberry and play Halloween games.

Before that child had finished the sentence, my eyes were puddling up because she referred to my husband and I as her family. How could we not love this child?

I told C that I would discuss her creative idea with "Mr. G," as she calls him.... and I did that when I got off the phone. Having a small Halloween party at Mayberry would mean not having our usual Halloween Charades party here. In my opinion, C isn't going to be a child for many more years. I would enjoy having a "family party" at Mayberry for her while she's still young enough to want such a thing. So my husband and I are talking about it, and we'll let C know our decision. I have a feeling that C might want to amend her request, and ask us if she can invite one of her best friends as well.

But.... one step at a time. Right now, our cats are all settled into their own little napping places here.... they're happy to be home..... they didn't care about the "magic of the lake" at all. And I guess AngelBoy has forgiven me because he's curled up right at my feet as I type. All is right in his little blue-eyed cat world.