How Green is My Life

The words”green” and “sustainable” can be overused and misunderstood. Perhaps many of us don’t really know what either word really means in practical use. Sustainable can mean taking action to be sure that a resource is protected or preserved for a very long time. That could be a bit simplistic, but it’s a place to start.

Meantime, this was passed along to me. The author is unknown but it is food for thought as we work to protect the natural resources of our planet:

The Green Thing

Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.
The woman apologized and explained, “We didn’t have this green thing back in my earlier days.”
The clerk responded, “That’s our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations.”
She was right — our generation didn’t have the green thing in its day.

Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. But we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.

We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn’t have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby’s diapers because we didn’t have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts — wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right. We didn’t have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house — not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana . In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn’t have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn’t fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn’t need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she’s right. We didn’t have the green thing back then.

We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn’t have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus, and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn’t need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint.

But isn’t it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn’t have the green thing back then?

What do you think?

Unfreezing the Shoulder

The “Year of Living Gingerly” has ended for me – thanks in part to Meryl Goldstein, Erin, Mark and Rachel at Excel Physical Therapy in Cherry Hill.

I’m not a whiner, but it really annoys me that my body just can’t keep up with my mind these days. The pains of 2011 are fading away. I hope for a much healthier 2012.

During May & June, Excel’s former therapist, Jeff, coached my through PT following a total right hip replacement at the age of 52. I came through that with flying colors thanks to all of the exercises and therapy Jeff and the staff gave me during that period. Plus, it always helps to be vigilant with therapy even when you are not at the Excel office.

By fall, the more painful of my afflictions, “frozen shoulder” brought me back to Excel. After my orthopedist prescribed therapy, Meryl explained the phases of frozen shoulder – freezing, frozen and thawing. To some degree, I was fortunate since my left shoulder was not completely frozen. The learning curve on solving this problem was painful and I had to again be vigilant in my therapy sessions and exercising outside of therapy to bring my left shoulder back to health.

Twice a week for just over two months, I arrived at PT to experience what I affectionately called “Torture by Meryl.” Erin or Mark would oversee my slate of exercises, and then Meryl’s magical hands and fingers would dig into every part of my upper arm, shoulder and back to get everything moving. That’s when the pain was sometimes blinding. The “cracks” and “pops” from inside my left shoulder and back were sometimes frightening. What was at times worse, knowing how hard Meryl was working on me and that it hurt her as much as it hurt me.

All this was for the greater good. I was released by my doctor exactly two months after I was first seen by him and ended physical therapy a few days later. Meryl says my shoulder is extremely functional; I have regained a lot of strength and mobility. I will continue my exercises and will faithfully follow the stretching and strengthening sketches on the Excel sheets Meryl & Erin supplied.

What Meryl and the staff do for the patients is amazing. They expertly assess each person and compassionately work with each person encouraging them on even just a speck of improvement. I hope I don’t have to see Meryl ever again – and I say that with great affection. If I do need therapy again, I will return to Team Meryl.

The Year of Living Gingerly

I have this thing – I like even numbers; 2011 is not an even number. Despite the pains of 2011, the year is turning out OK after all.

Let’s get the pain out-of-the-way: about four years of pain led to a right hip replacement in May 2011. Just a few weeks of therapy led to a nearly perfect summer. Then, I tumbled down the steps of our vacation house in New Hampshire and punctured my face on some boating gear at the bottom of the steps. Four doctors and many antibiotics later and the clutz who is me – healed. Finally, in my left shoulder diagnosed as frozen shoulder – has led to

Adam & his electric razor - wasn't he just needing a pacifier?

weeks and weeks of therapy that will lead into 2012 – but I’ll be fine. What is frozen shoulder? Women of a certain age can develop this real pain-in-the-joint affliction; some men and diabetics can develop frozen shoulder as well. The ligaments and tendons literally freeze which leads to restricted mobility. Try reaching up for a plate in the kitchen cabinet or scratching your back with the affected arm. You quickly learn the stages of frozen shoulder: freezing, frozen and thawing. I got to the doctor and physical therapist during the freezing stage. Now, I’m thawing. Thank you Meryl Goldstein, physical therapist at Excel in Cherry Hill. While the therapy is extremely painful – for her as well as me – I’m about 80% cured. Woo-hoo!

Enough of the pain already! Emotional pain has been the hallmark of our son’s senior year in high school. Adam is a bright, happy, overall well-adjusted young man. He’s just not as enthusiastic about life as perhaps he should be at this critical stage of his life. Senior year in high school means applying to colleges, financial aid applications, boy scout eagle project responsibilities and many other details. Detail-oriented – he is not. I constantly struggle over pushing him to get things done to completely backing off and letting him fail. Either one of these options is not the way to go. Striking the balance is extremely emotional. Somehow, I know Adam will succeed and do very well wherever his college career and career path leads.

Do you spend time looking at yourself from a distance? I wonder how I’m going to turn out; how my relationship with my husband will evolve and adjust; which hair color to choose. The thoughts go much deeper than a hair color, but I do spend time late at night or early in the morning thinking about my mortality. That’s pretty painful.

So how are things, really? I must be thankful and grateful for so many blessings: my family – both sides – and all their accomplishments and growth. I became a great-aunt late last year so I have a new family member to get to know. My physical fitness is definitely on the rise; my trips to the gym (and physical therapy) keep my head clear most days. When you see people at the gym who are a decade or two older than you and still getting there every day, you have to at least keep up.

Seeing the stories of our returning troops makes me wonder how they will spend the next year or two or longer adjusting to their stateside lives. The turbulent economy and changes in their families has to be stressful. In the end, I hope they find peace and happiness in their lives and know that so many of us are ever grateful for their service. I want to do something in 2012 to help as our service people return home.

As we opened our Christmas gifts this morning, I couldn’t help but remember that it seemed like a minute ago when my son was spitting up on my shoulder. Today, his favorite gift was the electric shaver we got him. Hearing the whir of the shaver made me nostalgic for the Christmas morning we spent wrestling with the hermetically packaged toys that needed assembly and running around looking for the right sized batteries to make the toys work.

The roast will go in the oven soon and the family will gather again for another Christmas. After the leftovers are put away and the last holiday light goes out, I wish for all the family and friends near and far a much less painful and much more happy New Year.

It’s That Time of Year

Whether you have holiday lights twinkling around your house or not, the signs of the holiday season are everywhere. The thing is, it’s the signs you can’t see that really count.

We spent a quick 36 hours in Washington, D.C. for a family scout weekend. The three of us and three other families enjoyed family time in the nation’s capital. The shockingly blue, cloudless sky was the backdrop for all of the national monuments and museums we could squeeze in during the long Saturday and Sunday morning excursions. I was truly in awe of the Library of Congresswhich was Doug’s choice for a visit. The architecture alone was

Christmas tree in the Library of Congress

something to behold. The holiday decorations were stunning.

We stumbled upon a neighborhood cafe just one block away from the Library of Congress and enjoyed a little eavesdropping during lunch; listening to the conversations of the people who live and work in the district. I really enjoy hearing stories other people tell about their lives; Mainly because it’s not MY life.

We toured the capitol, which beyond the amazing structure (the dome weighs 900 tons), it was a little disappointing that we could not see the actual chambers where our lawmakers meet. This post 9/11 world is a reality that you just can’t get around.

I managed to squeeze in something I always wanted to do: walk along the National Mall before anyone else is up and about. Doug and I laced up our sneakers and bundled up against the 7 a.m. Sunday morning cold and spent a half hour on the Mall. The Capitol & Washington Monument were an amazing shade of pink as the winter sunrise struck the white buildings. A cold mist hovered along the walkways. The Smithsonian Museum at the center of the mall look like the old man anchoring all of the buildings that in just a few hours would be bustling with visitors. Besides a lone runner or two and a few people walking to work or toiling to take down event tents from the day before, the National Mall was at peace. All the history and information within all those buildings was at rest awaiting more

people to soak up the value of everything that is compiled in those many buildings.

After our evening meal as a group, we walked a mile to the see the national Christmas Tree. At the breathtaking site with the White House as a backdrop, adorned with festive wreaths were many other families, enjoying the crisp evening air and the holiday lights. I couldn’t help but wonder how many more times the three of us might be together to enjoy such a treasure. The real treasure though, is our time together. The sounds of children watching the toy trains chugging along the tracks around the huge evergreen and grandparents reveling in the time spent with the grandchildren both young and old fills you with hope that there are better times ahead.

Boy Scout Troop 8

With the holidays just about here, there are about a million things I have to do between work and home to welcome the family for Christmas. In between, we’re taking a Hanukkah dinner to friends of ours who just can’t get out and are having a lot of family challenges this year. Despite everything they are going through, they are such remarkable, loving people who take everything one step and one day at a time.

So, in all of your hustle and bustle, remember what really counts – the love of your family and friends and what you can give to others – your time – laughter – and a nice, warm meal. Go light the lights.

So Little Time

Do you wonder every day where the time goes? You look forward to days off, vacations, family & friend events. You celebrate every occasion and holiday. You hug friends and family. But is it ever really enough? Do we ever really have enough time to appreciate our lives and what we have?

While I have not worked at KYW Newsradio since the end of 2000, I have remained friends with many of my former colleagues. We talk, have a lunch, share an email and from a distance, I have appreciated the people who I spent 15 years of my life with. In the past year, sadness has struck that newsroom in a profound way. I cannot imagine what it has been like to cover news on a day-to-day basis and experience behind the scenes what has been going on in that news family. Two former colleagues lost their spouses. One of those colleagues also lost her mother within a day of losing her husband; the other had recently lost his brother before his wife died. Another former colleague died of cancer. Then this week, two former Newsradio colleagues died in the same week. Karin Phillips at the age of 53 and last night, Jack O’Rourke at the age of 80.

The death of Jack has sealed in me a sadness that is one of those defining moments: I am getting older. Yes, Jack was 80, but he had no intention of retiring. He loved the Phillies. He covered them with a reporter’s enthusiasm. Jack did the stories straight, but you can’t cover a sport for as long as Jack has without loving the game. I was at a game in late June. Our seats in the Hall of Fame Club led us to walk just under the press box that night. I looked up at the box and saw Jack. I yelled to him. He popped right over to the open area and leaned down to grab my hand. We held hands for a bit while we talked about how we were doing. He was glad to see me with my husband. When Jack would ask, “How are you doing?” – he really wanted to know. Jack cared about people. There have always been stories from Jack about his children and grandchildren. He has great-grandchildren now. How they will miss their pop-pop.

Jack was a consummate professional. He hated it when people used foul language. Frankly, a news room can be a room filled with toilet mouths. Jack would toss a disapproving look toward people who used foul language. He was always a class act.

Last night in my section 134 seats at the ball park, a foul ball floated up toward the press box. My eye left the ball because I spotted Jack at his post. He was standing at that particular moment. I thought at the time how I admired him for loving his job – and the game – so much to be sticking with his job for so long.

I remember asking him that June night if he’d be working down at spring training one more season. He shrugged. I know he’ll be in that Field of Dreams – reporting on the balls and strikes; the wins and losses. We have lost a great soul – If that Field of Dreams in Iowa is heaven – I know Jack is there.

10 Years Later

When someone asks you, “Where were you on September 11th,” you instantly remember. You probably remember the clear, blue sky on that sun-drenched Tuesday morning as summer started giving way to autumn. Today, almost ten years later, I learned more about what I did that day and how it affected one person who lost their loved one in the terror.

My routine at WHYY’s Morning Edition was set in stone: deadlines every ten minutes; running in and out of the studio with news, weather and traffic updates and longer, local newscasts at the top and bottom of the hour following NPR’s national newscasts. I always had the TV news on in the newsroom since “staffing” involved me and a part-time production assistant. I had to keep my fingers on the pulse of the rest of the world so I knew what was going on outside the local studio.

Moments after that bottom of the hour local segment at 8:30, I saw on one of the network morning shows, a plane hitting the first tower. I sprinted around the corner and across the hall to where my VP of News – and the man who hired me at WHYY – Paul Gluck – was in an executive staff meeting in a glass-enclosed conference room. I waved to a colleague across the room, since Paul’s back was to me; she got Paul’s attention and Paul jumped up to see why my face showed so much alarm. When I told him what happened, in seconds we established that NPR was dropping the ball – in a big way; NPR was NOT breaking into what was a re-run of an earlier broadcast hour. Paul told me to sit down behind the mike – and start talking. An engineer was rolling TVs into the studio (which stayed in that studio for all the years I remained at WHYY) and I literally did play-by-play about what was unfolding, ad-libbing as best as I could with information from the news wires and what I saw on television – telling whoever was listening that morning – what would turn out to be life-changing events. I saw the second plane hit the South tower – live. The Pentagon scene was also unfolding. My colleague, Marty Moss Coane joined me in describing what was going on. At some point, NPR finally started coverage.

At first glance, the long camera shots of the twin towers, the plane that hit first appeared small; that’s what I told people – a small plane had hit the tower. That was moments after 8:46 a.m. on September 11th. There was no time to think about how many people were listening in those seconds; I knew I had to be as calm and clear as possible. A million thoughts were racing through my mind. Not the least of which was how BIG was this disaster going to get?

Fast-foward ten years. Today, I read in the Inquirer one of the remembrance stories about the people in Lower Makefield Township, Bucks County where 18 of the September 11th victims called home. Tara Bane DellaCorte who lost her husband, Michael Bane, was profiled in the September 4th newspaper. She described how she found out about the twin tower attacks.

“He woke her on their last morning together because he couldn’t find his laptop bag.

“I said, ‘Oh, it’s over here,’ and he kissed me goodbye. I can still see him walking out of the room. And I said, ‘Be careful,’ as I always did.”

Tara had a client at 9. She was making a quick bank stop on the way when “I heard — I guess it was on NPR — ‘ A small plane has hit the World Trade Center.’ That’s what they said at first, a small plane. I thought, ‘Oh, wow, I’ve got to call Michael.’

“I called his office, and it rang, but then it went to nothing right away. I called his cell, and I think it went right to voice mail.”

She realized later that Michael may already have been dead. The Marsh & Mclennan offices were right in the path of American Airlines Flight 11, hijacked en route from Boston to Los Angeles, as it nose-dived into the North Tower at 8:46 a.m.

By the time she got to the parking lot at work, the radio news had grown much worse. A second plane had hit the South Tower; there was talk of a terrorist attack.” (Philadelphia Inquirer, September 4, 2011)

Tara Bane DellaCorte in 2003 (Phila. Inquirer September 4, 2011)

Tara had heard me announcing that the plane had hit the North tower.

Broadcast news is often bad news. But there was no worse news than this news on this particular day. I was far removed from the many reporters who were thrown into covering the attacks in New York, at the Pentagon and in Shanksville, PA. My role in telling listeners what had happened was so small – but in many ways so incredibly powerful. Many people were driving from here to there. They could not get to a television. The fact that I was the one who told Tara Bane DellaCorte that her life had forever changed, makes me incredibly sad. My job was not personal, it was professional and I handled it that way. But this day was incredibly personal. People had to know what was happening and the listeners needed to hear this horrible news in as straightforward a manner as possible. I gave them that. It wasn’t until very late in the afternoon until I finally went home to be with my family and give thanks.

This is a time to remember – to mourn – and somehow make sense of the pain that so many people have suffered for these ten years. While I will never be a part of a news event that huge, I know that what happened that Tuesday in September had a purpose. I wish I could know how many people my words reached and I wish I could tell each of them – including Tara Bane DellaCorte – that I cared, I wish they never had to feel such pain – and I’m so sorry for their loss. Reading the survivor stories now though, we learn about the resiliency of people. Their lives were changed forever – but they have found ways to remember those who were lost while forging on with another chance at happiness and peace.

The Finale

Not wasting a minute of our final day here in Moultonborough, we quickly planned a day on the lake. After a quick breakfast, the serene water pulled me in. Doug and I went for an awesome canoe trip to the point where we are and around the bend and one island. There were birds, bugs, rocks, a gentle breeze, warming sun, the occasional barking dog and such peace that it should be bottled and patented. If more people could experience serenity like this, there would be no toxic arguments – or at least there’d be fewer arguments.

After the ride back at the house, we tried to encourage Andrew & Adam to come with us on our last adventure on the lake for this vacation. I’d packed lunch for us all – but the boys decided they’d rather stay at the house and head out in the canoe a bit later. Believe it or not – they actually did take a canoe ride and eat lunch.

Doug and I first got some gas, then headed to a section of the lake we had not been to before. We went to the town of Glendale which included a marina, the N.H. Marine Patrol and “Snuffer” the fire rescue boat and the Lyons Den Restaurant which is supposed to be quite good. People were waiting for the place to open as we got there before noon. After a walk on shore and on the dock, we motored out, noticing all the beautiful houses – some large – some small – but all waterfront and just delightful. We headed to the shore of Ellacoya State Park. The shore was also dotted with homes; there were swimmers and boaters, but it just wasn’t quite right for what we were looking for. We continued along the lake passing Welch Island, then Sleepers Island – that actually has an old castle on it which is now someone’s home. Across from Sleepers Island was a cove where about a dozen boats were anchored in an area that had a great sandy bottom , with water shallow enough to just float around and enjoy the sun and the glorious day. We had lunch, lounged around in and out of the water; had a catch and enjoyed each other’s company. It’s also fun watching other people enjoy their family, friends and their boats.

After a couple of hours, it was time to move on. We pulled up anchor and headed around Treasure Island and back toward Rattlesnake Island. We made our way across The Broads and back toward Long Island. We were back at the house around 2:45. Unfortunately, it was time to starting the trip home by taking the boat out of the water. For the first time all week, I had mom-son time. Adam drove the boat the five-minute ride from the house to the public ramp at Long Island. It’s always easier to talk with your son with no other interruptions. That was the highlight of my day – that five-minute ride.

Adam expertly guided the boat onto the trailer with Doug acting like he was directing and airplane on the tarmac. (Quite amusing) Dinner took us to Tamarack near Weirs Beach. Doug had a craving for a lobster roll – certainly something you can’t get at home. I stuck with a salad and clam chowder (or chowdah as they say up here). I asked for lobster on the salad. I ended up with more lobster on my salad than Doug had on his lobster roll. The guys also chowed down with fried shrimp for Adam and a lobster roll for Andrew. It’s interesting to note that I have never stood in line for take-out food and faced a $73 tab. All that lobster is not cheap! But oh, is it ever good.

Now, it’s time to pack up our things along with our great memories of this wonderful place. My heart is here – I find true happiness here – I love this place – the loon will welcome us back as they always do.

Melancholy, Baby

We love vacation so much because we get to be somewhere out of our element; experience things we don’t see or do at home and enjoy the company of people we care about. In all the places I’ve been in my years, there is no other place that makes me feel so happy and fulfilled. New Hampshire has become more than a vacation destination – it feels like home.

This morning, the two of us enjoyed some breakfast then took the boat out for a spin on the lake. We had no particular destination in mind, we just wanted to glide on the clear, flat water feeling the warm sun and enjoying just being here. We ended up at Bear Island where you can see what’s happening on the lake via a web cam that is live inside the house right there on the point of the island. Check it out here. I texted my brother who is back at work that we were in front of the camera – and he saw us on the boat. Very cool.

We motored over to Greg and Theresa’s house to say, “good morning” and see them and the kids which was a treat. They paddled around in the water outside their house. The morning sun was getting much warmer. We saw a very small turtle sunning himself on a rock. We gave the Breskins a lift over to cousin Barry’s house so they could pick up their shared boat for a morning spin around the lake and take the kids tubing again. We headed back to our house for some lunch.

Adam and Andrew decided THIS was the day they were going to sleep – forever. When we returned at 11:30 a.m. – they were still fast asleep. The two of them wanted to go experience Monkey Trunks, a climbing, zip-line, rope adventure located next to Fun Spot at Weirs Beach. We headed there and dropped them off so they could tire themselves out some more.

That led me to my 2 p.m. followup doctor appointment. Not a lot of news there; just confirmation that I am healing and I could consider cutting back my mondo doses of antibiotics. Enough said there.

By the time we went back to pick up the guys at Fun Spot, they were finished on Monkey Trunks and spent more time playing games at the arcade. Driving back, I just couldn’t face the refrigerator of leftovers, so we decided to eat at The Village Kitchen. Funny, all the years we’ve passed the restaurant, I thought it was called “Country Cookin’. Those letters are larger on the sign than the name “Village Kitchen.” Anyway, we found what is probably New Hampshire’s version of a local diner. It seemed there were a lot of local folks there. The food was OK; the service very nice and the total bill for four people – $49. No complaints.

The highlight of the day happened as we came home offering Andrew a boat-driving lesson. He excelled – and enjoyed. A few rain showers that passed through left a rainbow; the lake turned a beautiful shade of pink with a purple and gray sky. If only this could be home.

 

 

The Skies Clear – Finally

After nearly two full days of rain, we awoke to sunshine – finally. They say even a rainy day on vacation is better than a day at work. But in all the years we’ve been coming to New Hampshire for vacation, we have never had so much rain.

We maximized the good weather because it appears more rain will be coming. The delicious baked french toast Donna made for breakfast was a great way to start the day. Doug took Erica and Don out for their farewell boat ride since they  were heading back today. Donna went for a long walk while I packed up lunch for a planned excursion on the lake. Arline came by and decided to join us. We made the trip to Green’s Basin in about 15-20 minutes. The lake was a deep blue contrasting with the baby blue sky. So many boats were zipping by and nearly everybody waved almost as if to say, “Hey, aren’t you just loving this day after all that rain?”

We revisited the big rock in the middle of the bay which is part of a state or county park. We anchored so Andrew & Adam could take a dip in the lake and swim to the boulders. They climbed up like monkeys; talked about how they would approach their first jump  – then – AHHHHHH… there they go! They did the jump a few more times. Adam then decided he wanted to swim from where we were anchored to the other big rock in the bay. It had to be about a quarter mile. I watched every stroke. He did breast stroke, a little side stroke and freestyle – and he made it. Nice job!

Donna and I along with Andrew swam from the boat to the rock and climbed up. I wish I could have my camera with me to shoot the scene on the rock and all around me. boats were going past – and an ice cream boat came up. The boys had Ben & Jerry’s bars. By then, Donna and I decided we should make our way back to the boat for lunch. I was happy I was able to maneuver on the rock much better than last year..thanks to the new hip.

We enjoyed our lunch, then headed back to our dock for a relaxing few hours. Doug & Arline paddled around in the lake; Adam & Andrew read or played on their computers; Donna and I chatted while sunning on the dock. While Doug and Arline boated to Greg & Theresa’s house to take the kids tubing, I prepared dinner which turned out pretty well – chicken on the grill, veggies and potatoes in the oven, corn and baked beans.

We invited the other Breskins over for dessert and they ate just about everything – we had ice cream, lemon poppy pound cake, brownies, chocolate chip cookies.. almost all gone. The only odd thing that happened is we have a strange odor emanating from one spot in the kitchen. No, it’s not the trash can, under the sink, refrigerator or dishwasher. It’s just a strange smell that I hope is gone by morning.

Unfortunately, Donna will be gone in the morning. She will be flying home leaving just the four of us in this great house. The Breskins, Barry & Joan and Carol & Herb will remain – but our vacation is starting to come to a close.

The Lost Day

Rainy days and Mondays  – ah, you know the rest of the Carpenter’s ditty. Monday evening was outstanding with family getting together for a delicious meal at Canoe. I was remiss in mentioning my outstanding sister-in-law – Erica and her talented beau Don. Erica is always great with the kids and keeps the adults conversing as well. She enjoyed ordering tasty treats for the folks sitting around her last night – not to mention a great bottle of wine – (Thanks!!). Later in the evening, Don gave us a wonderful demonstration on his accordion. Now it’s not a mainstream instrument that you see every day – especially on vacation.We learned that Don has been playing since his was a child. He played a few lovely tunes that made me want to sit back and have a cigarette – except I don’;t smoke. He spent a good while showing Andrew the basics of the accordion which he really enjoyed.

A good night’s sleep led to a rainy start to Tuesday. Unfortunately, my wound from the other night showed some complications. We headed to Lakes Region General Hospital where we feared we would be tied up for hours. IN ONE HOUR – I was registered, triaged, treated and released. Now, I’m on some mega antibiotics. I’m resting this afternoon and hope to be much better tomorrow.

As we move toward another dinner hour, the skies are at last, clearing. Friend, Donna arrived yesterday and we’ll enjoy our first meal with Doug, the boys and me and whoever else pops in for the evening! Donna was gracious to drive Adam & Andrew to Fun Spot near Weirs Beach. Doug went to hang out with Greg, Theresa and the kids. Now, it’s time for the healing to begin – again.

Let’s take a ride on the boat – the sky is clearing and the sun is setting on another day in paradise.