Every day reality

Vacations are wonderful. Especially a BIG holiday that was in the works for months.  Everyone who knows my hubby knows that he takes vacations seriously and becomes quite morose if there is nothing on the drawing boards.  I never knew him when he was in high career mode, we didn't get married until both of us had reached the decision that we were now just working.  He had taken a package from AT&T and I had reached the point in my career where I wanted more than just the rewards from work.  We both still work,we both still have projects where we fall in love with clients or a challenge and work way to many hours and crazy schedules, but because we are consultants or hired hands, projects end and we go on to new ones.  Now instead of being consumed with work ideas, Mr Vacation amuses himself during long boring conference calls surfing the web for perfect vacation spots, or plotting how to persuade me that three days in Florida is worth the 16 hour round trip drive.

Over the past several years my priorities changed.  Maybe to fit my energy level, I no longer think painting the kitchen is a weekend task!  But I miss my kids and the gran's,  I like spending time with friends.  I have renewed my friendship with my sister and discovered it is true that there is no one else in the world you can laugh at yourself with more than your sister.  And it very helpful that she also can speak in multiple half sentences - it makes explaining something so much easier.  

My daughters and sons and their significant others are all interesting and wonderful people.  I wish I could flit in and out of their lives without it being a "visit". If I won the lottery I would buy a place near enough that they could come by easily, with a theater to lure my little gamers, bedrooms with toys and snugly beds for parents and mostly a big deck or porch looking out on the water.  Guess I should have bought some of those tickets when I was in Ireland, or else stop reading these dumb Low Country Islander books.

The reality of every day is pretty good. I have mostly interesting and agreeable clients, very few stick around too long since I come in at the tail end of most projects.  My biggest tasks are laundry and foraging for provisions and occasionally planning a dinner party to share a recipe or milestone with friends.  My closest friends are very tolerant of my "new recipe" tests, because come on have you ever seen a recipe for two in Southern Living or Williams Sonoma?  

Next week I get to wrap a few family days around a client work session in DC while Bruce is in Nashville at a conference.  Not too bad a life for a sleepy head who starts most work mornings in pj's and tries very hard to explain to clients that. 10am call is much better since it lets them clear up any early morning issues before working with me. (Aren't I thoughtful).

Dublin at its finest

 

As part of our two week journey to London, we added mid-week jaunts away.  First week we went to Paris and the second week we went to Dublin.  While Paris is beautiful and historic and -- well I have already talked about Paris.  Dublin is fun.  We had a fabulous hotel about 1/2 mile from Trinity College on the south side of the river.  In keeping with our challenge to only use public transportation or walk we started with a City tour so we could create a list of what we really wanted to see and as good planners that we are - develop a priority list and schedule.  The truth is we are both good planners but I am not the best implementer.  The first morning the lovely soft snuggly bed kept me trapped under the duvet a little later than planned, but the extra sleep added new energy to my increasingly tired body. 

We had a few historic sites we wanted to see and we wanted to resist restaurants and eat in local pubs for the few days were were in Dublin.  Dublin never let us down.  There is a pub on every corner and frequently mid-block, so the tougher decision was which ones - after all there are only some many meals/beers that can be consumed in three days.  Local beer is really very good.  I am not a beer drinker but there was a local brew that was smooth and light.  I think it is the lack of carbonization that makes the beer much nicer to drink.  I eschewed strange foods - black pudding and questionable sausages and stuck to the safer foods on the menu.  I know, I know -- what a whimp but I decided I would rather have three wonderful full days than a tummy ache. 

Just in case anyone is every wondering - every pub in England, Dublin and the cafe's in Paris have a Coq Monsieur (or some variation) so I am not the only food weenie in the world.  Though I do wish they would server them with applesauce and not fries. 

Back to Dublin.  Our first night was pretty darn chilly and windy so our path from the bus stop was fairly direct to the hotel -but what did we pass, with a warm cheery light in the window beckoning us to stop in for a pint - but the Reilly Pub.  Why is this important you ask?  Because my mom was a Reilly and from a county not too far from Dublin.  Now what could I do - I would have to stop in, it would be wrong to pass it by wouldn't it? 

On the second night at a little wine and cheese gathering at the hotel we met the hotel manager who was also from County Meath - but I unfortunately did not know the town.  It is sort of like saying your family is from Baltimore County but you have no idea where in Baltimore County.  Guess is it a little better than just saying our family was from Ireland! Ireland has a Homecoming 2013 effort going on right now that let's you register as a Daughter or Son of Ireland if you can trace your roots back to a Clan/Family.  Sounds like a good idea to me! 

Navigating the underground

Paris - wonderful old buildings, lots and lots of charm, vibrant city.  Out hotel was a block from the Louvre with a dash of Americana in the next block in the form of a Starbucks and a McD sandwiched in with a few bistros and cafe's.  Our hotel was very French but thankfully had a working lift and French doors that opened letting in a cool breeze.

We arrived onWednesday after lunch and working on my daughters information went to the Louvre to take advantage of the late night hours to wander through the galleries, exhausted we walked back stopping at a bistro advertising a menu in French and English.  Next morning we mapped out a plan to go to Nottre Dame, the dOrsay, hopefully the Rodin and Champs Élysées for a little shopping.  We also had a river cruise up to the Eiffel Tower on the wish list.  This aggressive schedule relied on a combination of metro, bus and walking.  First metro was at the bottom of the world and the lift was out of order, the hike up multiple levels left us exhausted and concerned we would never make it through multiple stops so we invested in a bus map.

Here I digress and confess my addiction to the Internet.  I have grown lazy and rely on Google.  I am lost, want to know a route I Google it   The other confession is I am cheap.  I just could not bear using cellular minutes to pull up a Paris bus map and try to figure out what the heck it said, and access to hot spots is limited.  Lots of hotspots but they want an account number.  So after some wrong turns and a few back tracks we arrived at Notre Dame and stayed for noon Mass, then off to the dOrsay.  Thank you daughters for the suggestion, wonderful museum.  We stayed for an afternoon nibble to hold us over.  Then off to shopping.   Now the bad news.  After waiting in line at LV to fill a request, the handbag was out of stock.

We wrapped up the whirlwind trip the next day with a walk in the gardens before heading to the Eurostar Station for the trip back to London

Our London hotel treated us like royalty giving us a river facing room with a front row seat for the Saturday crazy rowing competition that started one quay  up river from our hotel.  We spent the afternoon with Ted, Laura and Felix while we begged the use of their washer to refresh our supply of clothes.  English washers take forever, luckily it was a sunny breezy day so we hung everything out on the spin dryer and went to lunch.  I have not hung out laundry on a spin dryer in more than 27 years, but once a clothes pin Queen always a clothes pin Queen.  I had it out and spaced to dry in no time.

Today we drove out to Dover.  Ted rented a Zip car and arranged for a proper Sunday lunch at a Dover tavern before heading over to explore the castle, fort and enbankment. Tomorrow we head out to Dublin.

Just in case you are wondering every bone on my body aches.  I have walked a trillion miles in museums, city streets and between metro levels.  Paris had NO handicapped or less able people because their lifts are all out of order, escalators stopped or non-existent and everything has steps, preferably marble or stone steps guaranteed to be slippery.  Everyone we stopped to ask for directions were very nice and helpful but we were our own worst enemies in being too smug (well at least one of us) about knowing where we were and not studying the maps before we headed out.  London just finished hosting thr Olympics and Para-Olympics so in the center city the signage for lifts and escalators is excellent.  It is still a new skill to leave the hotel walking down a steep (historic) stone driveway to catch the bus to the over or underground trains to head out to our destination.  The hotel has a complimentary ferry across the Thames to the more metro side which is great but the Thames is a tidal river meaning sometimes of day when the tide is out it is like walking down a sliding board to reach the ferry.  All whining aside it has been a wonderful trip.

London holiday

We arrived on Momday morning at 7 am along with several hundred other non-UK visitors to wind our way slowly along the path to the immigration officer.  Our papers checked out and we cleared to customs.  With nothing to declare we headed out to meet the driver our son Ted had kindly arranged to meet us.   We are lucky we had a knowledgeable driver because it was long drive along narrow roads through boroughs for an hour until we pulled up to their house.   We never could have found it on our own.

Bruce booked all of our rooms and travel online over the past several months.  So I was surprised when we pulled up to a narrow drive leading up to an un impressive building.  On our last visit we stayed up in a nicely posh part of London, within walking distance of Harrod's.  The apartment was shabby chic Laura Ashley with comfy sofa and chairs, bedroom, kitchen.   Well you get the picture.  This time we were staying closer to Ted and Laura's who live in the "diverse, revitaling, urban pioneer southend.   Our hotel which I am growing to like is in the Docklands across the Thames from Canary Row.  It is a renovation of a shipping business.  We are on the sixth floor, former offices, overlooking a docking area for a ship.  By European standards it is a large room with one wall of glass that includes a door and two windows for wonderful breezes.  The breezes are important because the "air conditioning" is a floor fan.  Luckily the weather is quite temperate.  

The hotel has a ferry that crosses the Thames dropping us off at Canary Wharf  with some excellent restaurants, a Metro Tesco (grocery) and it has a Tube,  Overground and light Rail hub.  The first night we had a wonderful dinner at an Argentinian steakhouse.  And as life is we were seated a table away from a couple who had just arrived from Hawaii and who had been to Charlotte on business just recently.  Our hostess was thrilled when we told her where we were from because she had been there several as her parents used to mind an English antiques shop for a friend in South Charlotte.  Our waiter was from Dublin with tips for where to go when we were there next week.

Tomorrow we head to Paris for a few days before coming back and going to Dover on the weekend with Ted and family.  More to come.

Oh and Felix our four month old grandson is ever so cute.

How to know when to give up

One of my greatest failings is never knowing when to give up.  I often feel like that old Japanese soldier hiding out in some island jungle keeping watch, ready for battle long after the war was over. But other times I feel like the wimp who did not have the courage or energy to persevere. One time after heading out (pre-google and gps) only to feel lost and give up and come home only to discover I was one turn away from my goal, I asked my Dad why I had given up.  At the time his answer made no sense.  He said that I gave up becaiuse I could no longer see the land and feared the open sea.  I thought - huh I was in downtown Baltimore.  Now I think what he was saying was I was so focused on seeing the destination I failed to look around and recognize the clues along the way the landmarks the hint that I really was not lost at sea.
This has been a long summer.  My to- do list has gotten so long I have abandoned it and no new Fall list has appeared.  Usually when school starts and the evenings get cooler my nest feathering energy kicks in and projects start to poke up their heads but so far they haven't.  So here is the question have I given up because I can only see the end product and it looks too far away and I can't see any stopping off points so all I see is the huge expanse of sea between here and there or have I finally gotten smart and realized my limits.  Right now I just feel like I am caught in an eddy waiting for a wave or change in the tide.  Dad I need some advice.

Puppy love

Hubby and I are getting close to celebrating our 10 year anniversary. All of our children were grown and on there own by the time we married but then but like many couples we added to our family. We added Zed the best and last dog. Like the story goes He thought the dog would sleep in a kennel, I knew that was not likely. Soon Mr Zed was a permanent fixture in our bed. Who thought a Yorkie would ever take up so much space. I blame Dawson, the Golden who kept urging him to eat up and grow. This year has been a year of change. Hubby started the year in leg braces with the bed askew so no room for Mr Zed. Hubby is better but now I have leg cramps which drive me to leap out of bed to try to stretch out leg cramps. Not a great sleeping environment for Mr Zed. Seems he is a pretty good judge of prime time. Mr Zed has taken up sleeping under the bed, head in toosh out, except if either of us is gone then he quickly claims the vacated place opting for a single pillow please.

Where oh where has my little boy gone

Where oh where has Ashby gone?  The house is too quiet, there is no one to share lunch, I have been stuck inside all day with out any one luring me to come out and play.  I have forgotten how much energy and excitement an almost 3 year old boy can bring. 

Cinnamon Love

Cinnamon is a Siamese cat, about 35 years old, and still in pretty good shape considering.  She belongs to my youngest daughter who would carry her around and tell her secrets and generally love up on her.  She was never treated badly and spent most of her life either sleeping on the bed or being carried around by her owner.  After my daughter grew up and grew tired of having 'stuffed animals' Cinnamon was relegated to a carboard box. 

Then 10 years ago she moved into West Virginia and had the run of the house - so to speak.  The loft bed was her kingdom and she only had to share with a slightly tattered Koala Bear and her baby.  The older grandchildren are boys and when they came up to West Virginia they relegated her to the floor or maybe if she was lucky she got to sit on the ledge looking out over the family room.

Ashby changed everything.  He took a liking to her and she became his dining companion.  Ashby doesn't like to eat alone, he likes to bring a friend to all of his meals, especially dinner.  This however is where the story of Cinnamon love starts a new chapter.  This chapter is about how a boy loves Cinnamon. 

Here is a snapshot of dinner with Ashby and Cinnamon.  All starts out generous - Ashby shares his blueberries and his mac & cheese and chicken. And we talk.  I talk for Cinnamon, Ashby of course holds up his end of the conversation.  He asks politely if Cinnamon would like a blueberry and of course Cinnamon says thank you.  After many offerings and thank you's, Ashby begins using the plastic bug catching tweazers that he is now using to pickup up his blueberries one at at time, and he plucks out her eye.  Looking at me he says, make her cry.  That means I make a little wimper and then snuggle Cinnamon up in my arms and pat her and say there, there, it will be alright. Cinnamon is a brave cat, so back she goes to dinner only to have her tail pinched and her feet plucked and her nose bopped.  Many pats and loves later (for Cinnamon), the tweazers decide to do good works,  Ashby removes splinters from her head and her nose even one from her eye.  By now dinner is almost done and Cinnamon is again relegated to an evening snoozing on the table or floor in the living room. 

Dinner is never going to be the same without someone to share it with!  And I am always amazed at how quickly Ashby can move a conversation from one idea to the next, changing fixed objects into multiple new ideas.  Poor Cinnamon now she sits on the table waiting to be carried back up to her perch where she gets to wait again for some little boy love to arrive and love her into life.

The best of days

Vacations are supposed to be days away from routine. Times when you can stay up late,spend hours on the beach,eat standing up, stay in your pj's until noon. This weekend has been a vacation. This morning West Virginia gave us a cloudless morning with a gentle breeze and cool temperatures that let me sit on the porch in my pj's with my daughter drinking coffee while my grandson used kitchen utensils to dig holes. In the afternoon his Dad let him water all the tree stumps and blades of grass.

I hope someday when he is a man and someone mentions vacation his distant memory of days being happy under a cloudless blue sky. That is where my mind goes when work closes in and escape whispers come and play.

Thank you Mr Ashby. You reminded me of all of the wonderful idle days watching your Mom and her siblings play.

You know you are getting old when

You go to the Beach Boys 50th anniversary reunion concert and park in handicapped accessible parking. And the Boys are getting old. When did the Beach Boys start wearing bling and driving Bentley's? It was a great weekend. Hubby flew up to meet me in Baltimore and we did the Harbour, had lunch with my sister and husband,shared a pretzel with our grandson at the street fair in Fells Point, navigated from our hotel to my daughter's house on the "Charm City Circulator", got kisses from Miss Madi and were awestruck by the Blue Angels fly over. We are heading home to Charlotte wondering if our next move should be to Baltimore Harbour. Could I really have it all? Urban, water view (no boat required) close to family, easy access to the airport. I just have to find the golf courses and the right neighborhood!!

And 4 became 23

"Tell me a story Nana about how our family grew." Once upon a time, a long long time ago, Nana was was a Mommy and she had four children. And then she met a man who was the Daddy of three children. Before long the children married and had children of their own, and our family grew and grew. Now there are 10 grandbabies and one more waiting to arrive in September. Of all of the men in the world I could have married I chose a man who could have been a cradle mate. He was born in Patterson NJ and my parents lived in Patterson but I was born in the next town over. But the coincidences don't stop there. Three of our children - in fact our oldest children - share a birthday. Mike, Sara, and Katie celebrate on September 20th. Son-in-law Mike and I share July 16 and grand-daughter AJ and sister in law Steffie celebrate on September 17. Now for the drum roll. Felix Gill arrived this week on brother-in-law John's 65th birthday. Completing the synchronicity - our 7 children would have been stair steps starting with Mike and ending with Peter, with Sara, Katie and Ted filling in the 10 year gap between Kama, Meagan and Peter. So welcome Isabel and Felix - Jon, Jason, Alex, Ashton, Teddy, Ashby, AJ, and Madi can't wait to meet you! Grant Lee when you arrive in September there will be a crowd waiting for you!

I thought I was braver

I have always thought I was pretty calm, not prone to dramatics, it was a self image I liked. Yesterday proved me wrong. There are scary things that leave me speechless and crying for help in a little squeaky voice. Yesterday morning while eating breakfast I got an email that there were problems on the project I am supporting, so I headed up to the office to log on and get to work. In about an hour we hear Zed throwing up. Not one little oops but several times and the he was a little quavery mess hiding under my desk. Near lunch time I finished up and headed down to the kitchen to clear the counter and get organized for lunch. What I was wearing: golf skirt, shirt, bare feet. What had arrived for lunch? A 3 foot black snake was snuggled up on the rug in front of the kitchen sink and because I was reaching for dishes on the bar I almost stepped on him. Act 2. I run to the other side of the counter and start "screaming" for help. Well not actually screaming. According to my hubby I was squeaking some sound that I thought was "help! Help!". The two guys amble down to see what was up. Finally seeing what I was pointing to they lept in to action. Hubby goes out to get a shovel. Son goes to get something to pin the snake down with. I maintain my role of being s quivering mess. The heroes return armed--- and the snake is missing. A search ensues. One of the heroes leaves for golf something. The son continues the search - under the dishwasher, in the cupboards. Not many places for a snake to hide EXCEPT the air duct directly under the sink. Act 3. I stand at the end of the counter staring at the vent while we exchange thoughts on ways to drive the snake back into the kitchen. I turn down the temp, turn on the fan, we put down cardboard, lay out bacon. No snake. I google options. No help. I call my Terminix guy. He can do ants but no snakes. The scene now has dishes on the counter no lunch me standing at the end of the counter one eye on the vent, one looking at my iPad time ticking away. Solution needed to to keep snake from sneaking back in. Pantyhose to the rescue. Son unscrews the vent, notices the space between the vent and the floor that leads to the crawl space, hope now arises that snake has headed home but to be on the safe side he slides the vent cover into the knee high pantyhose, knots it on the end and screws it back on. Ok it is tacky but I feel safer. And I now think the suddenly sick dog was probably the result of him licking a spot of (oh gross) snake slime that while not fatal is toxic. Today all is peaceful. Happy puppy. No snake.

Babysitting

Today my youngest son turned 30!  And he and his wife took me up on my offer to babysit while they went to dinner.  I got a quick lesson in putting her down for her nap and then got her up and we played while they ran errands.  That probably sounds easy to most everyone, but I hardly ever see her and was not at all sure what she would think when this strange woman appeared in her bedroom to get her up.  She was a trooper.  Her first reaction was - hmm but no tears just no smiles.  So we played peak-a-boo and slowly turned up the lighting until she was ready to put up her hands to be lifted out of the crib.  On to a clean nappie and clothes before going downstairs. 

 

We looked out the window at the men unloading a new water heater across the road, she wafted under the sheer curtains to look for something exciting but after a while and we moved on to playing with a few toys before I discovered her favorite game of snuggle wrestle. 

She would hide behind my back while I asked where was Madi - when she peaked around she would giggle when I swept her up and snuggled her.  We moved on to the stamp, stamp, wiggle, wiggle dance.  (I learned this watching Ashby's before bed show).  Tonight I got to watch her have a bath and hair dry before reading her two stories.  She is snuggled in her bed with Frog over her head and her blanket under her head sound asleep.  Now to see if I can stay awake until her parents come home! 

Dissed in the hood - revisited

Seems that somehow I deleted my blog post for Tuesday.  I wrote it on my IPad and must not have saved it correctly.  So now the whole purpose of the blog seems silly.  But in summary, I came up last week to help find new homes for many of my Aunt Jane's treasures and to clear out her apartment so the keys could be turned over to the complex. 

My aunt was a single lady who lived frugally, she loved nice things, but her apartment was not overly ornate.  She was also a fiercly independent and private person.  Very few family members had ever been inside her apartment, and her neighbors all described her as a truly sweet person who would never accept any help.  Over the course of several days family came to adopt different pieces of furniture, art and what nots by the end of five days everything had found a new home and it was time to sweep the floor and turn off the lights. 

The original blog talked more about seeing what looks like a familiar face but not knowing if it is really someone you knew or just someone who looks like someone you knew long ago.  When I am in Baltimore there are so many familiar sites, sounds and accents.  On Tuesday while I was waiting for a potential buyer for the remainder of the furniture I went over to Starbucks on Charles Street in an area where several girls from my high school had lived.  I had been thinking about one woman in particular who I knew from Facebook had moved  back to the area and wondered what she was doing now.  So it was probably just those thoughts that made me think that a woman standing at the bar reading a magazine might be just that person.  I haven't seen her in more than 40 years and we weren't best friends to start with but I thought that if she looked my way I might offer a smile and ask if she was Bonnie.  Despite my super power staring she never looked up, in fact she seemed determined to not look up.  Maybe she caught sight of me coming in and had no escape plan or maybe I am just too paranoid.  On the full disclosure side I have to admit I looked pretty scruffy.  My hair was back with a hairband, I had on jeans, an oversize shirt and sneakers.  Give me a break I had been cleaning and sorting - dusty work.

If you are happy and you know it clap your hands

It has been a long two weeks.  It started out happy - my sister-in-law married a great guy and they threw a fabulouso party.  On the way up I got to have dinner with my Mom and snag a Coach purse at the outlet mall across the bridge.  All in all - perfect!  Until I got the call that my Aunt had died.

I wrote about my Aunt in my last blog - my memories of her as an aunt and a woman.  The real lesson that I came away with was - when you are happy share it, roll it around on your tongue like a perfect chocolate, wallow in it.  When you are sad, admit it, mourn when it is time to mourn, cry when you have a boo boo, ache when your heart breaks.  But when you are mad, hurt, insulted - talk about it to the ones you love.  Even if they aren't the one's who caused it - let it go.  You only have so much room in your little heart don't clutter it with old hurts, real or imagined.  Every hurt you care for and feed takes away time and energy from what you really want to do - stock up on kisses, kindnesses, warm breezes. I will guarantee you - 100% that the hurt you are nurturing and caring for, feeding and keeping stoked, the other person has no idea that it is that important.  Because most times they think that if it was that important and you loved them you would have wanted to talk it out. 

Tonight I am opening my hands, letting go, and taking back all of my good memories.  I don't have the energy any more to be angry.  And if truth be told, what do I have to be angry about.

On to sweet sticky kisses from the wee tots and careful hugs from the "guys". 

Dear Dad

Wednesday was Dad's birthday. It fell in the middle of a hectic week planning his sister's funeral. My Aunt Jane was a a "Maiden Lady" of 89 years of age. She has always been an enigma to everyone who loved her.

She died on her own terms, alone neatly covered in her childhood single bed with no fanfare. Her next door neighbor knew that they could set their watch by the time she came to the door to get her Baltimore Sun and New York Times. When she did not appear for the second day they called the apartment management, setting in motion a chain of events that found her dead in her bed. For those of us left behind it was our greatest fear that she would die alone. For her she died on her own terms, in her own bed, her apartment clean, her important papers out to be found. Tomorrow we will all gather to pray for her soul and then go with Mom to visit Dad.

Dad, what I want to tell you is we did the right thing in the face of turmoil. We were there to support Mom, we made sure Aunt Jane had the right wake, we told stories about memories from Woodlawn Road and Grandmother and Pop Shaw. I told stories about my childhood Aunt who wore silk and perfume. Who took me to the Walter's gallery. Matt, David, Pacey and Carol were there to share memories.

I am sure it confused the funeral home that were so many Benson women there. Pacey, Carol, and I all use our maiden names. I want you to know that we still hear your voice that no matter the circumstances we should always do the right and honorable thing. And you are right I will sleep peacefully.

Aunt Jane, I wish all of the cousins and great cousins knew you like I did. But if I learn nothing else from this time it will be to laugh more freely, to dare to be wrong more often because chances are I might be right and that accepting help doesn't diminish me but creates threads of links between me and the world. I want my wake to be a party with silly stories of moments shared and I need to start now creating those opportunities. Good-by Aunt Jane, I wish you peace and happiness as you cross the rainbow bridge.

Vegas

Let me start by saying I actually like Vegas.  I don't gamble so I am not sure Vegas likes me, but it is truly a play ground of excess - inside and on the facades of the resorts.  No where else will I see such vibrant colors, exoctic flowers, and sweet little things in little tiny dresses wearing 4 inch heels - who can really walk on them!  I can sit in the bar for hours and imagine the stories that are passing by my table.  There are the exoctic women and and the just drug in from the hills with worn out boots, straggly hair and a cigarette ready to be lit as soon as he sits down at the slot machine. 

This is the end of Chinese New Year and the resort we are staying in has a sister resort in Macau and has attracted bus loads of tourists celebrating the New Year.  The resort is all dressed up in red and gold with a 35 foot dragon leading the way in from the lobby to the casino.  Everywhere you look it is red and gold, even the orange trees have little red present envelopes hanging on ribbons.  The craps tables are the busiest with men in suits, sport shirts, and the ever present black tee shirt with tight black jeans.  It sounds like a meeeting of the UN when you walk past. 

This is a new fairly high end resort complete with a Ferrari dealer in the Racing wing.  They took over the old Sands resort and golf course and expanded into a resort with a high end tower, and ultra high end tower and then the golf villas.  The two shopping esplanade's - one with the down scale hipper Channel store, the other with the - well you get the picture.  I have only walked past all of the bright shiny jewels and baubles, handbags, glittery shoes and impossibly small dresses wondering what road I would have had to take to arrive here ready to shop at any age.

I do think they have Disney beat for "oh my god you want what for a bottle of water?"  I love Fuji water but $8?  My breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, whole wheat toast and coffee was $32 - this is like New York.  True - it is probably cheaper than New York but WOW.  Since I have to get showered, dressed and face painted to have breakfast anywhere, I am now strolling across the street to my standby Starbucks and saving my pennies for amazing dinners. 


From the window to the dessert

Back to the heart of the glitz  -- no other city can reinvent itself on such a regular basis.  Down come old buildings, leaving a sand lot ready for the next new thing.  When you move away from the resorts, it quickly becomes one story buildings frequently in need of a facelift.  Miles of housing stretch out towards the hills and mesas.  That is the end of my planner thoughts! 


The resort oasis


You know you are out of town when you are here!

Racing down the aisles of the casino

When we go on vacation to an island, Bruce's favorite thing to do is go jet skiing.  If the water isn't too rough I usually go with him.  We aren't in the islands, we are in Vegas.  No large bodies of water nearby.  So this is his alternate jet ski! 

Most of you know that he fell in December and one of his legs is still immobilized with a brace.  He can limp around but any distances are exhausting,so we arranged for wheel chairs to meet us along the trip.  The hotel wheel chair left a lot to be desired and I could not push it over the thick carpet in all the hallways and casino.  After much dithering he agreed to rent a scooter.  For someone who is used to having both his legs work, this seemed like an affront to his dignity, but being the great guy he is, he took one for the sake of his wife's back.  It has worked great getting him from place to place.  It was the hit of the party when we first got together with the conference group, so much so a few of the crazier people in sales rented two that night and raced around the hallways.  I would like to think it was sympathy for him, but I think it was Vegas craziness. 

Last night was the ultimate test, we were going to dinner two blocks away at the Mirage.  Despite all of the promises of the staff when it came time to get a cab that would actually take the scooter there was much hemming and hawing.  So we set out on foot and scooter.  Congratulations Vegas!  It really is a walkable city.  There are bridges over the busiest intersections with an elevator (and escalator) up and down to get you to the other side.  We followed the door man's directions on the way over but freelanced on the way back.  The way over was easier, coming back we segued through the Palazzo resort with a little help from a maintenance man on the patio and a security guard in the casino.  The maintenance man gets double thank you's - he stopped what he was doing, told another co-worker where he was going, parked his decorated trash can and walked us far enough into the casino to see where our next stop would be.  Vegas and the resorts are doing a great job with hospitality training. 

Bruce has named his ride Catherine in honor of CSI Las Vegas, she has not let him down so far but I know he will be glad to be home with only his personal wheel chair for extended trips.  Friday we will go and get his handicapped placard.  His plan is to be driving himself by the weekend.  As Mom would say, when you are a hammer - everything looks like a nail, and he is determined to get some more independence.  Not that I blame him.  This has been a little more togetherness than we have ever enjoyed! 

Beautiful downtown Paradise

Las Vegas the city that never sleeps. We flew in last night arriving at a reasonable Las Vegas time. The hotel is beautiful and room is spacious. Our mini bar is fully stocked with some very valuable snacks. Water is $8 a bottle beating any Disney prices, proving that adult playgrounds are more expensive than children's. I can't post pictures from my IPad on blogger - a serious failure. The hotel provided a wheel chair - that was worse for the wear - and afte a few short trips pushing over the carpet Bruce graciously, while reluctantly, rented a scooter. Now he has the power1 I have been amazed at the accomodations by the airport and the hotel for people needing wheel chairs. When we landed in Vegas we were met with a flottila of wheel chairs parked on the ramp waiting for passengers. Our pusher got him up the ramp and into the airport, he waited while we got luggage, helped wrestle it off the carousel and arranged for a mini-van cab. The hotel has a fleet of scooters and wheelchairs. The company events start at 4:30 this afternoon so I am off exploring while sweetie puts his leg up and tries to get the swelling down.

I am not moving

Several weeks ago in response to a challenge by my sister in law to post a response in support of breast cancer awareness. Based on the month and day you were born you said "I am moving to somewhere for x months". It prompted a side bar conference of my daughters and a call to my husband to ask when I was leaving. The simple answer was no and why. The longer conversation with my wee tots was that I don't communicate and that in fact they thought it totally plausible they would find out something life changing on Facebook or my blog. I promised to try harder and remember to call when something happened that I would want to know about them. So here goes. Last Friday on the way to meet friends for dinner I was rear ended at a traffic light. It was a dark and rainy night and we were at the light a half block to the restaurant when wham. Luckily she was slowing down. All is well. My boat of a car absorbed the shock with little visible damage. Th other driver buckled her hood but could drive away. Car goes in to the shop next Friday and will be repaired. Her insurance had been great. I am pretty sure she felt slightly faint when our friends walked down to help us and I leveraged my handicapped spouse with both legs in braces out of the car and our friend got the wheel chair out to drive him to the restaurant while the police filled out the report. Maybe that is why their medical claims person calls me every other day to see how we are feeling! Other great news. Bruce is out of one leg brace and can bend the other leg. It gives him a huge amount of freedom. We leave Saturday for a 5 day sales conference in Las Vegas. I get to go along as his health aide and add my two cents during the data center migration session as a project manager. Great visibility for me that will hopefully add more work to my dance card. I will also be scouting out a great massage during the day hours when the poor therapists are hoping for work from people who are sober. Now for the promo of Charlotte news. It has been wonderful. Very few cold days. The jonquils are blooming and the mocking birds doing their "ain't I cute" dances in hopes of attracting mates. Children who move closer to their parents have doting Nana's ready to spoil the wee ones. And this is a wonderful place to work. Keep it your thoughts. Move South!

Road trip

Big excitement in our house! After many false starts and lots and lots of luggage and equipment we set out from Charlotte to Wilmington. We came down to work with a new client on a project. It is a test trip - can we navigate a hotel, what about a pit stop? We did pretty well. We are in a large handicapped accessible room at a Hampton Inn. Walk in shower with handrails. Next big test is getting to the client site and then the conference room. The wheel chair is coming in - no other way to keep his leg up all day, so we will see how that goes. More tomorrow.

Starting week four

Three weeks ago Bruce had his emergency surgery to repair his legs. Three weeks ago I was still in a haze, how had we gone from planning for two weeks in the mountains to waiting . Waiting for news from the surgeon, waiting for him to wake up from the anesthesia, waiting for someone wise to predict the future. What would recovery be like, how long. No one can tell you how complicated it will be. When the doctor came to check him out he asked if I loved my husband and then said you are going to find out how much.

We are getting in to a rhythm. He is able to do much more, we have equipment on both floors, I can get out to run errands and am planning to be gone overnight this coming weekend to go to Madison's first birthday. We have been very lucky.

Patience people

We are now into our third week of our new standard operating procedure at Casa Cardos. I have gone from stunned, numb hour by hour operation to a relatively smooth system. The patient has been patient, it is not a natural act on his part, but he is trying. (No Mom that is not a pun.) We have wheel chairs and walkers on both floors for the commuter, he can now lah de dah down the stairs to breakfast and then saunter back up to the office at will. Major victories included getting in and out of bed and in and out of a chair by himself.

Now he is bored (or rather more bored) and sure that he can spur this healing process along by pushing himself. I am having a hard time helping him understand that tendon's heal at their own rate and it is too early for physical therapy or testing his limits. This is not like getting his should back into functioning order by keeping up with his exercises.

Last night was our first big outing - he put on his big boy pants and shoes, we loaded him into the backseat of the car along with walker and wheel chair and met our friends for dinner. Riding sideways in the car is uncomfortable so we will have to find an alternate solution for longer drives, but Mike and I were able to manhandle the equipment and he was willing to follow the rules. Our next big adventure is a trip into the office on Friday.

This has been a lesson in patience. I know that I am a creature of habit, but didn't realize how changes to my routines can really throw me for a loop. I always prided myself in being flexible. Or as my children would say scatter brained. But I guess I am much less flexible than I thought. Mess drives me crazy, I can put up with it for a while and then -- well and then I try to bring some order and develop a tolerance for what I can't change. It is silly things like my bed looking unmade because he can't tolerate the weight of a comforter or heavy cover on his feet and he has to throw it off both feet before he can start to get out of bed. This results in the sheets being untucked and a lightweight down comforter replacing the much heavier one. So now I am trying out new ideas like a top sheet to keep the down comforter clean, it is still a work in progress. Silly things in the big picture but the harmony in my visible world is very important to the harmony in my little brain. I'll keep you posted on my sanity! and the patient's progress.