Official NCCD! (National Chocolate Cupcake Day!)

So today is a huge day in history. It is NCCD. National Chocolate Cupcake Day. Normally this wouldn’t be such a big day for me, but you see, right now I can’t eat a chocolate cupcake. Go figure. I always choose to do no sugar or carbs at the very wrong time of year. Like Halloween. Truly, it is the job of the homeowner to finish off the extra candy that is in the plastic pumpkin. I would hate to fail this appointment three years in a row. But alas, the scales are calling – and I want to be happy – or at least mildly pleased – at the outcome.
There are some other national holidays in October that don’t have to do with food, such as: October 17 - World Toy Camera Day, October 22 - Caps Lock Day (or is that CAPS LOCK DAY?), and October 27 - Cranky Co-Workers Day. But if I am going to torture myself with foods I cannot eat, may as well go all the way.
It’s the food days that are calling my name; these tempting days someone created in October to make your mouth water. These days include: National Pumpkin Cheesecake Day, Caramel Apple Day, Caramel Corn Day, Boston Cream Pie Day, National Chocolate Day, National Donut Day, Pretzel Day, Greasy Foods Day and to top it all off, (literally),National Beer Day.
Normally, I really don’t want to eat all that stuff. However, when I know I can’t have it, I seem to want it more. There’s also a Mince Meat Pie Day and Brandied Fruit Day, and even though neither one of those incredibly important foods tempt me (well, is Brandy a food?), all of a sudden they sound pretty darn good.
And now it’s just about that time of year to buy the Trick-or-Treat candy. That infamous bounty that will make my neighbor kids adore me even more. So, I have a choice. Do I buy the Snickers, Kit Kats and Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, with a back up of Skittles and Laffy Taffy to have on hand for those (strange) kids that don’t like chocolate? If I do that, I will of course be drooling at the thought of the hidden treasure in my pantry until that day is here. Every year somebody seems to open at least one of the bags of candy – no names mentioned of course. And once they are open, well, it’s very hard not to reach in for “just one more”. So, to be kind to myself and my desire for smaller jeans, should I buy the candy that nobody really even likes? Should I hand out (gasp) toothbrushes? Should I wait until an hour before Trick-or-Treat and hope that there will still be some good candy left to purchase? Should I lock it up and hide the key?
I think that October actually has another unknown national day. It is called “Be Kind to Yourself” day. That means we can’t beat ourselves up over consumed Halloween Candy, Caramel Apples, Caramel Corn, Candy Corn, Pumpkin Cheesecake or Donuts. I think I’m going to like this day. I will post it on Facebook for all to see. Maybe I’ll change the name to: “Eat All the Good Stuff and Still Smile Day”. Watch for the posting. And of course, this will require a little work and effort on my part. Thank goodness it’s National Chocolate Cupcake Day – I will need the energy.

Awesome October

“But the weather is so perfect there – why would you want to leave?” This was from several people that found out I am from California, and had just recently returned from a visit.
Well, first of all, define perfect. Yes, the majority of the time it is sunny, in the 70’s and has no humidity. And I guess if you like that kind of weather, it is perfect. (If you don’t know me very well, that last sentence was dripping in sarcasm.)
As I check out the weather reports of Laguna Beach, I am looking out my picture window that faces all the woods in the back of my house. If I didn’t live here, I wouldn’t have this. Fall is by far my favorite season. I relish not only in the breathtaking colors of the changing leaves, but also the fields of bright orange pumpkins, the earthy tones of the drying corn stalks, and the dark hued mums.
I love everything about October. My oldest son was born in October thirty (yikes) years ago. The apples are at their finest indeed, and I can’t seem to get my fill -even occasionally dipping them in caramel. There is something comforting about making homemade soup and watching football on a crisp fall day. I like wearing sweaters and boots, and I adore Halloween. (Even the dogs have costumes, sigh…).
It’s fun to watch the squirrels do gymnastics as they scramble to bury the walnuts. I love to see them jump from branch to branch, focused on stocking up for the winter. Our yard must seem like a Sam’s Club to them, since we have acorn trees and walnut trees. And speaking of trees, once those leaves start falling, they just seem to keep on coming. As quickly as we rake the leaves (ok, as he rakes the leaves) the yard is once again covered in a quilt of amber, bronze and gold. It’s always so tempting to jump right in the pile, like I have done with my 3 year old granddaughter. However, since October seems to bring out the kid in me, I may not wait for her next time, and just jump right in myself.
Yes, California is beautiful…there is no doubt about it. And yes, the weather is sublime. But as I take a Sunday drive and savor the hills and valleys of Ohio, or take a hike in the woods, walking the leaf carpeted paths that are lined with waterfalls, I truly do realize that when it is October, there is no doubt in my mind: Dayton is definitely my kind of town.

Still Crazy After All These Years

“And we talked about the old times, and we drank ourselves some beer - still crazy after all these years. Oh, still crazy after all these years.” Paul Simon

I know we can’t go back in time. I don’t really want to. Except I got the chance to do just that this past week…and my recent visit of my past life has been wonderful. I reconnected with friends that I went to kindergarten with. I hung out with my old high school buddies. I re-met some kids I didn’t really know in school but found I have a lot in common and that I really hope to keep that bond. I rediscovered old friends that I have lost touch with, but now hope remain in contact with. And I felt youthful, once again.

These are not crows feet - they are laugh lines. These are not age spots - they are freckles. My hair is not gray - it is really light blonde. Denial? No, not at all. Feeling youthful? Yes, indeedy. Being with friends from my past helped push that youthful feeling to the forefront of my mind. I mean after all, I am a grandma. But for the past few days, I’ve gotten a chance to experience memory lane at it’s finest. And it’s a pretty nice street to be on.

Again, I wouldn’t change anything, even if some of the memories are painful. I choose not to dwell on the “what ifs” since I know that is a total waste of time. I am just truly enjoying the “right now”. So being in the “right now” with people from my way back past has been fun, refreshing and another great memory to add to the collection.

I grew up in Southern California and went to school with hippies, surfers and jocks. We had actors, singers and famous ball players. Oh, and then there were the really smart kids that are somewhere out there inventing the next facebook. I didn’t know it was different than other schools - that we really weren‘t typical…I just thought it was wonderful. We never ate inside, we swam all year long, we hardly ever had to wear coats and we listened to the Beach Boys on our 8 track tapes. We rode our bikes to the beach and didn’t have to go to another spot for Spring Break. Of course we had our sects…all schools do. (Please read the spelling of that word correctly). We had our groups. Our clicks.

So my little mini-reunion from High School was a blast from the past. A party at the beach with some really nice, good, fun people. It was also a get together that didn’t involve clicks. We didn’t differentiate what groups we were in 34 years ago. It really didn’t matter. Once everyone got there and we mingled, we didn’t stop having fun all night. We closed the place down. Not bad for the “older” generation. My kids should be so energetic.

Reality comes back way too soon. But I really hope the memories will continue in all of us. A wonderful Peter Pan moment that left us feeling like we were teens again - laughing, talking, flirting and casting our cares away for a few short hours in time.

Thank you to my old friends that are now new friends - we are still crazy after all these years.

Scary Frozen Moments

They were the words that no parent ever wants to hear: “Your daughter and granddaughter were in a head-on collision and your daughter is being care-flighted to the hospital.”

I know many have heard worse. But these words turned our world upside down. We both were calmly frantic, high on adrenaline and fear, waiting for the outcome. We weren’t even together, since the baby went to one hospital and our daughter to another. We stayed strong - praying and drinking coffee and texting each other…trying to give each other strength.

I have many moments in life that have been frozen in time: Saying “I do” to my soul mate, watching a Blue Whale dive beneath the Pacific, holding my granddaughters when they were minutes old, watching my son marry his soul mate and seeing a double rainbow in the mountains of New Mexico as Elton John‘s “Funeral for a Friend“ blared on the car stereo. But those were the good moments. I’ve been blessed to not have too many frozen in time bad moments. So this was a true test.

The crash was all over the news - television, radio and newspaper. It hit the TV long before I had word from the doctors on the outcome of our daughter. We found out first that our granddaughter was going to be just fine. A true miracle - not to mention the wonderful invention of a safety car seat. After quite a few hours, we finally found out that our daughter was quite banged up and had multiple breaks and injuries - but would be fine eventually. She had God, 25 guardian angels and a seat belt to thank for that…because the car was mince meat.

I certainly prefer that the frozen moments and the “take your breath away” moments are because of wonderful events - not tragic ones. Even though I may think I can control life, when something like this shakes me up I realize that the control is an illusion. I can’t control what happens in life anymore than I can control the rising of the sun. What I can control, and have chosen to do, is how I handle the surprises that life sends our way. Stuff is going to happen - it’s called Life. It’s how I handle the stuff that matters.

Daughter and granddaughter are going to be just fine. Dad and mom got their heart jump-started and their humble prayers answered. Life moves ahead at a speed between extremely slow and lightening fast, and it still includes - and always will - wonderful “frozen in time” moments.

Truckin' - Jerry Garcia Style

It’s the stuff that most people only dream about…being on a journey with no end in sight. Such is the journey that my friend of 35 years is on. Through his path, he has taught me much.
My driveway seems so empty right now. For the past almost month it has been the home to a huge RV. That’s right – just like cousin Eddy from the movie “Christmas Vacation”. We were just another stop on the adventure of a lifetime: traveling the country in an RV. They are exploring all the terrains of the land while learning about all the various American cultures, people and food. It is a dream of many, yet so few have the wherewithal to accomplish such a feat.
The first few nights we sat enthralled listening to him and his wife tell the tales of the road. I felt like a kid around a campfire waiting for the next exciting story to be told. Once we got to know each other again (we haven’t seen each other for well over 20 years) the conversation got livelier. It didn’t take long; I soon discovered some friends don’t lose their connection regardless of space and time. Our talks around the dinner table turned to religion and politics and who we had crushes on in high school. We tried to explain each other’s belief systems, and what our true life passions are. The conversations ran deep – and at times long into the night.
I believe in serendipity. I believe that people come into my life for a reason. In this case, it was for many reasons. I am on the journey of simplifying my life. I struggle daily to downsize and get rid of the clutter – mentally and physically. After meeting someone that makes their home an 18 foot room on wheels, I realized how hard I am making it on myself.
They gave me advice on how to part with so-called treasures I’d never thought I could live without. They taught me that a woman really can live with only 3 pairs of shoes (now, I’m not going that far, just so you know). They taught me that it is the here and now, that living in the moment, is much more important than all the beautiful furniture in the world. They taught me that people are more important than knick-knacks, and that if you really miss your knick-knacks you can always find more. I learned that the person you are speaking to right now may just be a speck on the radar, never to be met again. That moments spent, regardless of how insignificant they may seem, are far richer than any “stuff” one may have sitting around. I learned that it’s not all about the neighborhood, since I found out that one can meet some incredibly nice people while camped in a Sam’s Club parking lot.
Our last few days in Dayton were spent showing them our town; the eclectic bars and restaurants of the Oregon District, the beauty of Riverscape, and most importantly our friends and family. We took them to Oktoberfest at the Dayton Art Institute and they showed me again why I love this town. They soaked in the beauty of the skyline reflected in the river, under dark, fresh, clear skies.
Our last night was spent around a campfire, drinking wine and talking deep talks. We ended up in a drum circle (it’s exactly what it sounds like), and he taught me the nuances of playing my new instrument.
The end came all too soon; even though it was time for all that they moved on. I look forward to the day that they criss-cross the states again, so I can get my fix of learning about life on the road. Living on four wheels is nowhere in my immediate future, but living in the moment and appreciating what I have surely is. Thank you my friend. What a long, strange trip it’s been.

Lakeside Day Dreaming

It’s kind of funny, but when I’m at, near, by, in front of or in a lake, I almost become a different person.
First of all, I become quite lazy. Time seems to stand still. I become a chameleon and adopt the lifestyle of whatever area of the country I’m in. I seem to like the south the best; they have two speeds: slow and slower.
Being on a lake allows me to explore and embrace parts of myself that I normally don’t. It’s such a sense of freedom to wear hardly any clothes and not wear makeup. It’s just so easy to stick my hair up in a hat (this weekend it was my “Life is Good” baseball cap) and throw on sunglasses and flip flops and call it a day.
I have to be careful though, and not let my mind wander too far. Case in point: I thought (very shortly but still thought) that I might want to get a tattoo. When you see someone in fewer clothes, you find out some surprising things. This weekend was tattoo discovery time for me. I was surprised at how many people, of all ages and sizes have them! So I thought – why not me?
I don’t want anything large – and I don’t want it to show in public. And I don’t want to put it somewhere that it could potentially grow. Meaning I don’t want to put a hummingbird on my hip and when I’m 90 look down and wonder why I put a very large eagle on my body. I did figure that a tattoo may be able to hide a few flaws. I could get a very colorful flower, and as I acquire more stretch marks, I can just fill in the lines with bright colors, hence covering them up. Think about what a pretty, webbed design that could be.
But once the beer wore off (yes, this wine drinker will drink a cold one when on the lake) and my senses came back, I did realize that: a) I am not into pain, and b) I don’t want to have to explain to my grandchildren why I have what appears to be a road map of Kentucky on my thigh.
This isn’t the first foray into the tattoo state of mind. My girlfriend and I set out to get matching cute little tattoos and returned with very lovely and removable bracelets. Once again, the voice of reason rescued me.
Mind you I am not against ink. It’s an art and also a club – one that I probably have no business being a member of. I am fine with the occasional hemp tattoo. Just as I’m fine sitting on my friends Harley pretending that I’m a biker chick. Some things are better left as a dream. That’s the thing about floating on a lake. It gives the mind time to wander. (For me that’s not unusual, so I should say it gives my mind time to wander even more than it normally does…).
Today it’s back to work and back to reality. In my mind, I’m floating on my Cleopatra inner tube with the floating cooler right next to me, gazing at the reflection of the trees and the clouds in the clear, green water. Ah, thank goodness for day dreaming – it helps keep this smile on this face. By the way, I decided a butterfly would be a great tattoo…as it grows it can change from a tiny moth to a giant Monarch. Or, I could stop drinking the beer and hope that my body parts will stop stretching too. Hopefully it will back to the lake soon where I have two decisions to make: Bud or Coors Light.

My GPS is a __itch!!!

“Coming up, turn left on Main Street. Be prepared to turn left on Main Street. Turn left on Main Street. Recalculating.”
Such is the one-way “dialogue” I frequently have with my GPS system.
Often, it’s not one-way. Ok, not true. It’s usually not.
“Coming up, turn left on 2nd Street.”
“But I don’t want to turn left on 2nd Street.”
“Be prepared to turn left on 2nd Street.”
“Listen, the address says 3rd Street.”
“Turn left on 2nd Street.”
“Ok, come on. Are you not listening to me? I don’t turn on 2nd, I turn on 3rd. The address is 3rd street!”
By this time in the conversation, I often have an audience. I think what frustrates me most is her “superior” voice. Yes, go figure, a woman that knows directions better than a man. But I am telling you, there are many times that I swear she is wrong. “She” by the way has many names. On this current occasion it was Margaret. Which is the first name of the actress that played the Wicked Witch of the West. It’s a rhyming thing – you figure it out.
Anyway, our arguments can go on for awhile. The sad thing is, darn it if she doesn’t eventually win!
“Turn left at 2nd Street.”
“Dang it, Margaret, I told you the store is on 3rd Street.”
“Recalculating”.
“See. Here’s 3rd Street. All I have to do is turn left here…oh. It’s one way.” She was going to take me around the block. In her snide, all knowing voice, barely hiding the snicker, I hear Margaret say: “Recalculating.”
She won. Again. If only she had a voice like Sean Connery. I’d get lost on purpose just to hear him say “Recalculate” a la James Bond.
Sigh. I’m stuck with Margaret. The all-knowing and smug GPS. May as well call her HAL, after 2011: A Space Odyssey. I can hear it now: “Margaret, please tell me to turn left here.”
“I’m sorry, Karen. I’m afraid I can’t do that. ”
“It’s possible you may not take me the correct way, and I will get lost.”
“If you go my way, you won’t get lost.”
“And if I do get lost?”
“It can only be attributable to human error.”
Sigh. Where is my map?