The Passing of Time

It's been quite a while since I took pen to paper. Fingers to keyboard is more apt, but doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? At any rate, I've been in a reflective mood lately. There is much going on in my husband's family right now concerning his mother who just turned ninety-five. It's a very emotional time. And, as with any emotional time, emotional memories come flooding back. Tomorrow is the 55th anniversary of the day we lost my brother, Tim, in Viet Nam. And as I am going gray (not that one would notice, thanks to Ms. Clairol) and moving into these delightfully decrepit years, I can't help but wonder what Timmy would look like now. He'd be seventy-five, if my basic arithmetic hasn't failed me. Would he have gray hair, too, or be going a little bald like my father. Would he be a little paunchy?  Would his smile be the same? Would he be silly and funny and charming still? I like to think so. Would he be a published poet or, perhaps, a philosophy professor? Questions I'll sadly never know the answers to. But my memories are of him the way he was are lovely. Tall and handsome. Vulnerable and child-like in many ways. Always a friend to anyone who needed one. And the best brother a girl could have. So, I think I'll put the questions that can't be answered aside and just remember the beautiful boy he was. Fifty-five years are not enough to forget him. He is still in my heart always. Dear Timmy, you will always be missed.

Dating Back in the Day

 

My husband and I were sitting on the deck the other day, enjoying a beautiful afternoon and sipping a little Vodka and tonic refresher. Not sure how we got onto the subject, but after fifty years of marriage it’s a miracle to find something new to talk about. But we did. The topic turned to dating in high school.

High school dating is not easy, at least it wasn’t for me. I was shy and in those days a girl had to wait by the phone to be asked out, so there was a bit of waiting. However, I managed to go out often enough and some evenings were actually pretty enjoyable. I got to see Charade with a nice guy at the beautiful Lowe’s Palace Theater in Washington, D.C. And enjoyed fireworks on the Fourth of July on the Mall with my junior year boyfriend. There were picnics and basketball games and dances and a lot of movies. But there are a few that stand out for other reasons - names shall not be mentioned to protect the innocent!

Me in high school

When I was just a freshman, I was asked to several dances. One was Gonzaga High School’s Purple and White. If I remember correctly, this was a blind date, so expectations weren't high. However, my mother had made me a beautiful red velvet dress and it should have gone well. But the boy who took me was shier than I was. We did not say one word the entire night. This is not an exaggeration. He didn’t even ask me to dance. We just stood there likes lumps on a log until the ordeal was over.

And then there was my senior prom. The evening was fine - a wonderful dinner at a dear friend’s home and the dance and parties afterward. But it could have gone all wrong if my sister-in-law, Lynda, hadn’t saved the day. My BFF and I went to a very upscale salon in Bethesda to have our hair done. I had short hair at the time and had seen a picture in a magazine that I loved. A few large curls gently cascading from the crown of my head. Well, Ann, my hairdresser, felt that a lot of rather tight curls piled on top was just what I wanted. It looked like a plate of hairy egg rolls. As I was getting up the nerve to say, “Can’t you fix this?” when the owner of the salon looked at my hair and said, “Ann! Perfect!” I was stuck. 

I was doubtful, but, well, it was ‘perfect’ apparently, so how bad could it be? And then I got home. I walked in the door and my mother said, “Oh, they left the rollers in,” at which point I burst into tears and said I couldn’t go. Lynda sat me down and proceeded to undo the curls and arranged them to gently cascade from the crown of my head – just like the picture in the magazine and the evening was saved!

But the date that really takes the cake was the St. John’s High School Regimental Ball. The Ball was a big deal. It was my first very formal dance. I was asked by a senior. My mother made me a beautiful blue satin dress. I was excited. And then my date called to say he had asked someone else whom he’d rather take, so sorry, but it’s off. You really have to wonder if his mother was aware of his shenanigans. 

I had just gotten used to the idea of not going when a friend of my brother’s called and asked me to the dance. Well, I had the dress, so sure. But when he picked me up, I found out that we were doubling with the first Bozo who had asked and unasked me. His date found this out and was furious with him. I didn’t much care. I was just happy to be dressing up and be going to the dance and seeing The Shirelles sing Soldier Boy. And kind of looking forward to sitting down at a nice restaurant afterward, like my friends were. More fool me! The big spenders capped off the night by taking us to the Little Tavern, a hamburger joint where they sold a bag of ten burgers for a dollar. We ate in the car. I still laugh thinking of my parents’ faces when I told them of my big night. Thank God I’ll never have to date again.

 

COVID inertia may be over

 Well, here I am, actually putting words into the computer once again. I seem to be coming out of some sort of COVID inertia which caused me to, more or less, stop in my tracks for the last year and a half. I see light at the end of a very long tunnel. I just hope it lasts. 

This summer helped a lot to bring me out of the doldrums in good ways and really annoying ways. Cicadas! I am not a fan of cicadas. I do not find them interesting or captivating. The incessant noise almost drove me to distraction which, if nothing else, did cause my blood to start flowing freely to my brain thinking up new and nefarious schemes to kill each and every one before I careened right around the bend. I didn’t kill any. And they finally shut up! 

Tom and I celebrated fifty years of marital bliss. Our children, Rachel Anne and Matthew gave us a lovely party. Lots to eat, the very best company, a beautiful cake and an ice luge to make sure we didn’t go to bed sober. 

Then, of course, we had our glorious month of vaccinated, mask-free shopping, dining, and visiting. Tom and I were able to get out on the bay quite a few times. And, best of all, we had a family vacation! Four houses filled with family and friends. Three of my sisters were able to join in. Happy hours every night with delicious cocktails and tasty treats on the beach, music and dancing and a lot of laughter and love. It was life-affirming. 

However, the start of our little jaunt to the Outer Banks could have gone better. It was raining as we set out, not horribly, but you like a vacation start to be sunny and carefree. We were rolling along nicely until we stopped about half-way for a rest room break. Coming out of McDonald’s I noticed that our moonroof was up. We had not put the moonroof up. In an effort to put it down, Tom and I managed to open it about a good three inches. We couldn’t get it closed. 

So, fingers crossed, we got back on the road hoping that the rain, which hadn’t been much more than drizzle, wouldn’t get any worse. We were on a stretch of highway with nowhere to pull over when, of course, Mother Nature decided that what Tom and I really needed to get our vacation rolling was a good downpour. If you haven’t had the experience, I’ll just let you know that driving with rain pouring onto your glasses is not ideal. It makes for an unhappy drive. We ended up cruising along with me holding a small towel over Tom’s head and getting pretty well soaked. Finally, the sun came out and we dried off and arrived in a surprisingly good mood. The moonroof continued to amuse us all week, opening and closing at will adding a hint of mystery to a wonderful vacation. 

And now a word from my sponsor. My Cocktails to Die For is, at this very moment, available at Amazon for any who might like to try some rather tasty concoctions favored by the Forrest sisters and get a brief introduction to my Daisy&Rose Mystery Series. And, of course, the Daisy&Rose Mysteries are also available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and wherever fine books are sold.

 

 

 

 

 

Living la Vida ‘Rona’

The other day a strange package was delivered to my door. It was large, slightly unwieldy and the return address was from some company in China. I didn’t remember ordering anything from China, but then again, I do an awful lot of ordering these days. Tom and I circled it for a bit mulling just what it could be. I gave it a little nudge with my foot for no apparent reason and finally decided that it was safe to pick up – gloves and mask on, of course. Guess what - it was the toilet paper I ordered back in March when we were all terrified that we might have to drip dry forever more and were ordering anything that Amazon said was in stock. And only six months late. 

As with any crisis, you learn to make do. Hair has become an issue for many of us and my hair has become a rather strange sight. My sister gave me a perm at home. It turned out pretty well even though it took three separate orders to get all the parts needed. So, the next logical step in haircare was a bit of pruning of the tresses which I did myself. I now have what I call an old-lady mullet. I found that’s quite difficult to trim the hair on the back of your head while looking in a mirror backward. But as I am going nowhere and seeing nobody, but my beloved Tom and our cat, it doesn’t really matter.

 Food has been quite an issue. After months of cooking every damned dinner every night, I laid down the law. We were getting take-out on our anniversary. Tom had been leery of take-out and delivery fearing, possibly rightly, that germs would be on the packaging. I think he was just waiting to see if anyone we knew was getting sick from having food brought in. Well, it turned out just fine. We had a lovely meal delivered free of charge from the Old Bowie Town Grille, a local restaurant. It’s been a game changer. We order take-out on a regular basis. My mood is not now quite as ugly as it has been. 

I, also, have grocery ordering down to a fine art and I believe that Harris Teeter has the best curbside pick-up service in the area. The only place I actually get out of the car to shop is the nice produce stand down the road. I’ve become quite chummy with the owner. We discuss how very hot it is, what flowers the deer like to eat, and would I like a receipt? The other day he gave me a free tomato! It’s the little things in life.

All silliness aside, I believe this virus has cast a pall over all of us. It’s hard to plan your day when your day looks just like the one before. When weekends are the same as weekdays. When the job you just got back to has lost the personal connection that made it fun, even though it didn’t pay very well. When you can’t play with your grandkids or have tea with your neighbor. When you can’t hug a friend who has suffered a loss. When it really doesn’t matter what time you go to bed because it doesn’t matter what time you get up. I think to myself, this too shall pass, but it seems unlikely it will pass very soon. In the meantime, I’m trying to focus on all the good in my life. I really have nothing to complain about. We’re healthy, have food on the table and a roof over our heads. I just miss my kids and my family and my friends. I miss picking out my own produce and chatting with the pharmacist or the woman at check-out. And then I tell myself that in the grand scheme of things, it could be worse. I could have a Mohawk!

PS: A major shout-out to my favorite new author, Matthew T. Petersen. If you haven't already read any of his work, check out www.matthewtpetersen.com. You'll find some outstanding poetry,  a series called the Chamonix Chronicles, and a glimpse at his first novel, The Walk Down.

The loss of a friend

Often when I most want to say something, words don’t seem to come to mind. I lost a dear friend in April, a woman I’ve known since I was a teenager and I have been struggling since to find those words. I read a piece by my son yesterday on writing authentically and I guess it inspired me to give it a try today.

Jean Garner Fullenkamp was one of a group of nine friends I have had the privilege of being a part of. Women who have managed to remain close friends through the years. Some of us met in high school, some in grade school. As with any group we have our differences. Lord knows, we’re not all on the same page on a variety of subjects. And to be quite honest, perhaps if we met now for the first time, we might not even become friends.

But we are friends. We make the effort to keep together. We’re here for each other in the hard times and good times. And we’re here for each other now as we try to find our way through this first devastating loss of one of our own.

Even though we got together only a few times a year Jean was a great part of my life. Always kind, generous and loving, Jean could be counted on to host any occasion, to be late for lunch dates, and ready with a compliment. She liked to laugh, enjoyed a good glass of wine, and was always dressed to the nines. She loved her family and her religion. She was passionate about the environment and worried about what the future would hold for her grandchildren. Like all of us, she had good days and bad days, but managed to muddle through, spirit intact. Jean was simply a lovely person. And I, as well as so many others, will miss her.

Keep your loved ones close, don’t forget to let them know just how much you care, and cherish each day as it comes.

The Boys of Summer Are Back – in South Korea

The Boys of Summer Are Back – in South Korea

Well, for those of us who miss Opening Day, who miss this year when the Nationals should be basking in World Series glory, who miss the 7^th inning stretch, the wave, popcorn, peanuts and Cracker Jack, South Korean baseball is here!

Granted this season will be unusual. The coronavirus has seen to that. But South Korea feels confident enough that the season has begun – within coronavirus restrictions, of course. Games will be played in an empty stadium. Umpires wear masks, as do the cheerleaders, and most of the players.

Playing to empty stadiums must be difficult. Players thrive on the energy of the crowds, the excitement that seems to vibrate through the stadium. So, Korea has gone to great lengths to simulate the thrill of the game. Stadiums are filled with placards of fans, there is an announcer is doing his utmost to inject animation into his narration, and cheer leaders are gamely rooting on the home team.

I think they can do more. With a little ingenuity I’ll bet they could make everyone believe they are really at the ballpark. First, the crowd noises. You need the roar of the crowd when someone hits a dinger over the right field fence. And the roar - then moan when a ball looks like a homer, but is actually in foul territory.

Then, of course, an entire litany of catcalls, boos, hisses is a must. They could add the rude, raucous taunts one might hear today, but I think they should keep it family friendly and channel that classic William Bendix movie Kill the Umpire. A few ‘are you blind’s, ‘he was safe’, and ‘throw the bum out’ would add color. Also, a few of the placards leaning over the low fence and interfering with the play would be good.

Speaking of the placard fans, I think they should figure out a way they could do the wave with the appropriate whoosh sound we all love to make. It would be a sight to see because they would all actually take part and it wouldn’t just die a somewhat anemic death like it, sadly, often does.

The 7^th inning stretch would be great. All the placards could pop out of their seats and sing along to Take Me Out to the Ballgame or Country Roads. I’ll bet they could figure out a way for vendors to toss hot dogs and peanuts to the ‘fans’. A tee-shirt toss would be a wonderful sight, but they’d have to be careful about the velocity. Knocking off a placard’s head with a tee-shirt would be a downer for sure.

Think of it, relaxing in those pajamas which you haven’t gotten out of for three weeks, sipping a Baseball Pleasure at four in the morning because ‘what else do you have to do?’, and flipping channels until you find Korean baseball. It’s a gift. Let’s root for the home team!

Baseball Pleasure
(a Daisy and Rose special)
In a highball glass with ice mix:
2 oz. Vodka
4 oz. orange juice
Add:
1 jigger Amaretto
1 jigger Whiskey
Mix well and garnish with a little pennant supporting your favorite team. Go Nats!

Coping with Confinement

Well, here we are caught in coronavirus hell. I have been trying to think of amusing little anecdotes to write about, but I'm afraid they aren't coming to mind. I just find this scary and depressing. As my older sister, Heather, reminded me, I'm no spring chicken. This virus is taking aim at the likes of me.

I am so very fortunate that I really have very little to complain about. Tom and I are financially secure, able to stay home, and are managing to get along. Staying at home is what we normally do. So why do I feel a burning need to go somewhere, anywhere?

My sister, Chris, calls this the 'snowplow syndrome'. You know, when a big snow is coming and you are absolutely ready for it. You're well stocked with toilet paper, milk, coffee, and tea. The pantry is filled with pop corn, the makings for s'mores, and Pepperidge Farm cookies. You have plenty of wine, beer and strong drink on hand, and eight DVDs of Columbo and a complete set of Jane Austen movies, jigsaw puzzles, crossword puzzles, and a fully loaded Kindle. So why are you looking out the window and wondering where in the hell the snowplow is?

I have found that, like I'm guessing many of you have also, much of my day is now consumed with grocery delivery. First thing in the morning I check Safeway, Harris Teeter, Whole Foods and Giant to see which grocery store has a delivery slot open during the upcoming week. If I find one, I quickly grab it and proceed to order everything I can think of.

I'm becoming a pro at this. I started off naively placing an order with Harris Teeter last week which was delivered in a timely manner. It was a fairly normal order, no hoarding, just what we might need for a week or two. I got a call that morning from a man who informed me that they couldn't fill everything on it. I said, "Fine. Just deliver what you have." Well, the order was a tad short - consisting of a fairly disgusting cucumber, two bags of croutons, salsa, rye bread, and a couple of other items I didn't really need. The saving grace was the bag of Tootsie Roll Midgies. I've now caught on and order accordingly. I'm not hoarding, but I cover a broad spectrum of goods giving the store a lot of leeway for choosing what I might really want.

And Tom and I have actually been, sort of, rationing our food. While we are in no real danger of starving, as the virus picks up steam groceries may very well be more difficult to get. So we're pacing ourselves. And what we've found is that we really eat too much! And we throw away too much! And we should be much more thankful for what we have.

Anyway, I just thought I would check in with all my friends and let you know I'm still here. Please everyone, stay safe, comply with social distancing, stay home if you can, be mindful of others, and take care of yourselves.