El Cheapo

Back in 1996 we needed a cheap local mover to get our stuff out of the mini-storage warehouse to our first Florida house.  I don't remember how I found them but against my better judgement I called "El Cheapo" movers.  Cost was definitely a factor at that time and they were definitely the cheapest.  It was owned by a guy named Ward, a wiry young man with a nutty personality.  His wife Terri handled the office work.

I guess I wasn't disappointed because I called him again in 2000 to move us out of that house and into a temporary apartment and then again a year later to move us to our new house in Hollywood Oaks. He and Terri were divorced by then. Truth be told, I cringed each time I saw the "El Cheapo" trucks pull up to our new addresses.  What on earth would the neighbors think? Hahaha

I have been calling the major van lines to get estimates on moving us to The Villages. But as I perused the Yellow Pages I saw El Cheapo was still listed.  Why not? I thought.  Ward picked up on the first few rings and garbled something and I asked if I had reached El Cheapo.  He said it used to be but after 30 years of taking ribbing for being El Cheapo, he changed the name of the business.  Are you ready?  Wait for it! 

"A League of Extraordinary Movers"!

He's coming on Wednesday to give us an estimate.  What will the neighbors think?!?

;-)

Whew!

It's been one month since we returned from our first visit to The Villages and decided it was the place to spend our Golden Years. 

In the month since: we/I have made a second trip back, bought a new house, had the roof and driveway pressure washed, put new sod in the backyard and mulch everywhere, had the windows washed, sent Grandma's oriental rug out for cleaning. listed our current house and the beach condo for sale, thrown out 40+ hefty bags of stuff, cleaned out and organized the garage and every closet and cabinet, applied for a reverse mortgage to finance the new house and arranged for reverse mortgage counseling (required), scheduled an estimate from Mayflower for moving (I'm sentimental about Mayflower due to our days as truckers), had three house showings and a lot of beach condo showings, finally got my Prolia shot after oodles of calls between me, Blue Cross, Caremark and the doctor's office (why health care costs so much), had breakfast with my old staffers and boss, went to a christening, got a haircut and my nails done, celebrated birthdays and our anniversary and mourned my cousin's passing.  And that's not all!

I feel good about all of the above. I even went to the library and borrowed the 2006 DVD of "The Secret" that reinforces positive thinking and sending out affirming messages to the Universe.  I'm super excited about the future and I'm doing all I can to attract the good stuff that awaits!

;-)

Scrapbooking

 

from the Hollywood house scrapbook

I started a new scrapbook for the new (pre-owned) house in The Villages.  It will join the ones for our 1987 house in Long Grove and our 2001 house here in Hollywood.  Of course I won't have pictures of the house actually being built, but I'm substituting pictures from the sales literature and ones I lifted from the online virtual tour. When we move in I'll add the "after" shots.

I rarely do scrapbooking, preferring instead to toss magazine and newspaper clippings, greeting cards, pictures and ticket stubs into "keepsake boxes" in no particular organized fashion.  Someday I will go through them all.

You know I'm excited about something when I care enough to save pictures and mementos and preserve my memories for future sessions of "aww, remember this?"

;-) 

Cameron

Cameron is 7 today  Wow!

He sure hasn't had it very easy.  From the day he was born almost two months prematurely and weighing just 2 pounds 10 ounces, he's been a fighter.  He even had to hang on in the womb for dear life (literally hang on!)

Seeing pictures of Cam with tubes and such in the hospital broke my heart.  And even after Laura and Jason brought him home and I saw him in person, I was scared to hold him or even breathe on him.  I had never seen such a tiny little baby. 

But Cam fought on and today is a tall handsome lad with his Dad's infectious personality and his Mom's grace and sweetness.  He still doesn't have it very easy.  Being born prematurely has given him a few extra challenges.  But Cam tries hard and even though he has been dealt a tough hand, I am absolutely convinced he will excel in everything that's important in life.

We all spin Life's roulette wheel and get some good and some bad breaks.  But Cam definitely won the Parent Powerball because he couldn't have gotten more devoted, loving and nurturing parents than Laura and Jason.

No doubt about it, he's a very lucky fellow.

Happy Birthday Cameron!  Love you!

Conversation With My BFF

I broke the stained glass windows you made.  Not one but both.  I was trying to be so careful but I tripped even as I was telling myself to be careful.  They are so delicate now, how will I ever get them to The Villages??

You can fix them.  Go get that clear packing tape from the garage and tape up the backs.

OK. Will you keep me company?

Of course. See? It's working.

I'm not doing too good. 

You're doing fine. Use the scissors to push the tape around the solder lines.

OK. It's going better now.  I'm so sorry I broke them.

They're not broke, they just needed some TLC.

I should have been a better friend to you.  I miss you so much.

I'm here whenever you need me.  See, the windows are all better now.  I like that you put the big one next to the kaleidoscope I made for you and the perfume bottle I gave you. They will look great in your new home. Now go call Laura.  I love you.

Love you too.

Kyra

My BFF passed away less than three months before her first grandchild, Kyra, was born.  How she would have loved her five grandchildren and I think she just might have lavished special attention on Kyra, whose birthday is today.

Kyra is smart as a whip and I often think of her as an adult in a little body.  What 7 year old prefers a Japanese steakhouse over Chuck E. Cheese for her birthday dinner?  Watch what you say around Kyra, she understands what you're talking about!

When my BFF Sheryl passed away, Scott and Victoria (very pregnant) said they could not think of a middle name for Kyra that started with "S" that they liked.  They were going with Paige for her middle name. It is a Jewish custom to name a newborn after a departed loved one and I knew Sheryl would kvell in heaven if she had a namesake.  I lay up that night, running fashionable names that started with "S" through my mind - Savannah, Sierra, Serena, Shakira, Samantha, Summer, Skylar, Sophie etc. etc.  Not one grabbed me and I knew the kids would not like them either.
As I drifted off my thoughts turned to Sheryl and our vacation together in Arizona - she and Scott and us all together. How she loved Sedona and even thought their fabled vortex gave her a little more strength. She dared to dream of a retirement home amid the red rocks and sacred stones. It was one of the best times of our lives.

The next morning I cautiously made my suggestion to Scott and Victoria.  They loved it!
Happy Birthday Kyra Sedona!!

;-)

New House

We put an offer in on what will hopefully be our next home in The Villages.  It's not perfect but it's perfect for us I think.  I liked it as soon as I saw it on the internet and I liked it even more when I saw it for real. 

Buying a house is a lot like falling in love. You feel the attraction and you are not exactly sure why. 

I saw my prized possessions fitting in nicely. I saw myself cooking in the kitchen and soaking in the whirlpool tub under a window big enough for Sheryl's stained glass. I saw the pretty bushes surrounding the lanai and the welcoming big live oak tree that would greet me when I came home. I saw the well maintained peaceful neighborhood with its flagpoles and the signs telling you who lives in each house.  I saw the years ahead in my new home.

But most of all I saw all the other houses for sale that did not come close, hahaha.

;-) 

Craig's Lost Chicago

An old friend sent me a link to Craig's Lost Chicago and it didn't take long before my eyes filled up with tears.  Oh the memories!  A few things were missing - the Slick Chick (an original 50s diner) and the Town and Country (where we went after my high school graduation) and The Little Corporal (best Patty Melts ever!  My old boyfriend took me there after an AZA Invite dance) - but Craig (whoever he is) sure has amassed a wealth of Old Chicago memories.

The Pie Pan.  Lockwood Castle.  Kiddieland and Riverview.  The Cock Robin (just blogged about it on Father's Day). Buffalo's Ice Cream. Amy Joy Donuts.  Di Leos (I had a bridal shower there).  The Como Inn.  The Pickle Barrel (all the lox you could eat!) The Hawthorne Mellody Farm. Polk Brothers. Maurice Lenell Cookies. Venture and Z Frank and Kohl's Foods. The Golf Mill Theaters. Robert Hall, Mandel Brothers and the Crawford Department Stores. Shopper's World - where I got my very first paycheck!  Montgomery Ward and The Chicago Daily News and The Chicago American newspapers. 

So many memories!  Thank you Craig!

:-)

A Very Very Very Fine House

I've been working for the last few weeks getting our house ready to be listed for sale.  I've seen a lot of dust and junk and shmutz.  But today the videographer was here and the house looked about as perfect as possible.  I took a step back from critically assessing every square inch and tried to see it through his stranger's eyes. 

It dawned on me that my house is beautiful, and not just because it has really nice upscale features. It is beautiful because I have loved living here in this perfect neighborhood, in this tropical paradise, in this enclave of peace and safety for the past twelve plus years, longer than we have lived anywhere else.  I chose (or inherited) every piece of furniture and every picture on the wall and every piece of linen and every tchatchke and I made all but one of the window treatments myself. I love the layout of the house and the tranquil pool and hot tub and each and every room. I love the dark and welcoming library filled with books and the certificates and diplomas on the wall and the comfy chair for reading.

It reminded me of a poem (thanks again Dad), Heap O' Living by Edgar Guest.

Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome: It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.

I do hope the house sells quickly but I will always remember the heap of wonderful living I did here...

:-)

You're Not Pretty Enough

I guess the worst thing some women can hear is "you're not pretty enough".  I got this message when I read this article about a woman who (severely traumatized) went on a mission to boost female egos after her spouse flung those four horrible words at her. Trust me, hearing those words - spoken in anger by a cheating husband - are far, far from the worst things one can hear and definitely are not worthy of a second thought. 

This is what I believe: happiness and a fulfilling life await most women.  If this joyful state somehow eludes them, their looks have nothing to do with it.  I have seen homely women snag prize husbands who adore them and beautiful women who have known nothing but heartache. Self-confident women enjoy greater successes with time while some super-attractive women suffer when their beauty fades with age. 

Still not convinced? With the miracles of diet (or even bariatric surgery), make-up (or even cosmetic surgery) and some cute outfits and a decent hairdresser, almost every woman can enhance her looks to the point of being "pretty enough" for anything.

Want to cut me to the core?  Tell me I'm not smart enough!

Meanwhile I'll continue to strut my "pretty enough" stuff all the way to old age!

;-)

Dance Me To The End Of Love

When Jeannie posted the news of Marek's passing on Facebook yesterday she included a link to a music video of Leonard Cohen singing Dance Me To The End Of Love.  I had never heard this song before but I will not soon forget its haunting message and the touching images of the video. 

There is nothing more beautiful than a marriage that grows through the decades, even as beauty and youth fade. 

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long

Our 44th wedding anniversary is in a few days.  Still dancing...

We Come and We Go

Cousin Jeannie called at 6 am today to say that her husband Marek passed away two hours earlier. 

I loved this man.  A Holocaust survivor who suffered unspeakable horrors as a teenager, orphaned and alone and homeless, he went on to build a life of wealth, joy, love, generosity, travel and intelligence.  He was my cousin's true soulmate and a blessing to our family. 

It is true, we are only dancing on this earth for a short time. And unless our talent and fate have combined in such a way that we bequeath a lasting legacy  - like Abraham Lincoln or Jonas Salk - we leave only a few memories and perhaps a little of our DNA in offspring that rarely turn out to be very much like us.

So I believe we need to live our lives in the here and now.  We need to do things we enjoy and never fail to embrace and cherish those we love.

Marek was a great example of exactly that...

:-(

Breaking Bad

After a year's hiatus Breaking Bad resumes tonight with the final eight episodes.  I've followed it from the beginning, never missing an episode in Walter White's transformation from mild mannered high school Chemistry teacher to ruthless meth drug lord. 

What makes this series so incredibly captivating?  I think it's because each of us has some kind of evil alter ego lurking beneath the persona we show the world.  If circumstances were right (or wrong) who knows to what lengths we might go to protect our loved ones?  Even more intriguing is the question: what would we do if we had a terminal disease (Walter is currently in remission but faced almost certain death in the first episodes) or if we knew we not get caught?  What secret desires do we harbor that we would never act upon if things were "normal"?

So no wonder Breaking Bad has amassed legions of followers who are also eagerly awaiting tonight's episode. As Jesse would say: "Way to go Mr. White!"

;-)

The Man Cave

The "After"

This week: No Friday night service.  No Torah study class. No Maj Jong.  Just Cleaning. Cleaning. And more Cleaning.

I finally tackled the Man Cave AKA The Garage.  Hubby helped by identifying strange artifacts and quickly filling a dozen Hefty bags while I held them. Then he retreated back to his office hahaha.

This freed me to spend at least ten hours scrubbing the shelves (they are fabulous - super heavy duty plastic that break down nicely for moving), cleaning the floor and organizing our stuff into categories: lawn stuff, insect eradicators, hardware, hurricane survival supplies, painting supplies, pool stuff and paint, plaster and caulk.  On top of all this we have a staggering number of power tools, vices, saws, screwdrivers, pliers, rakes, hoes, axes and other gizmos - all of which hubby assures me are needed to keep our modest home upright.  Luckily most of these (but not all) go into a giant rolling metal tool chest and other smaller chests which I also cleaned off.

Wow what a job!  I am super happy with the results and have spent several quiet and reflective moments just staring at my beautiful, perfect, organized creation. 

I can almost see the light at the end of the Man Cave! 

;-)

A Break

I've been working awfully hard lately and my body and mind tells me I need (and deserve!) to take a break. This is not as easy as it sounds as I am basically pretty Type-A and once wound up on a mission it's hard for me to stop and goof off.

However, one sure-fire way to get me to kick back is to put me in a dark movie theater with a high-voltage action film and a box of popcorn.  My cell phone is turned off and I'm trapped in my seat for a good two hours.There is nothing like it (maybe alcohol but I don't drink) to take one away for awhile.  And going to the movies in the middle of a weekday is a true retiree pleasure.  Plus Tuesday is free small popcorn day I think.
 
Watching a movie at home cannot compare because I can still answer the phone, play with my cell phone or meander to the kichen where I start getting distracted. Also Dolly seems to always plan her requests for a walk in the middle of the Big Scene.
So I checked the listings and am debating between 2 Guns, Red2, or R.I.P.D.  I'm leaning to Red2 because 1) it's about retirees who can still kick butt and 2) my friend John gave it a thumbs up. 

Showtime!

;-)

Dexter

In 2004 I read a book review for Darkly Dreaming Dexter, a novel by a local Miami author, Jeff Lindsay.  The premise - a forensic blood splatter analyst for the Miami-Dade police department who moonlights in his spare time as a serial killer who kills murderers, rapists, and other undesirables who have escaped justice - completely captivated me and I immediately got on the list for the library's few copies.  How much do I love Dexter?  When Jeff Lindsay writes a new novel in the series, I order it from Amazon, yes the hard cover edition, not willing to wait for the library to process their copies. 

When Showtime decided to bring Dexter to life on the small screen, I had my doubts.  But kudos to them, they captured the feel, the personalities, and the Miami rhythm perfectly.  Super Kudos to the incredible actors who are cast perfectly.

TV Dexter is in the middle of its eighth and final season.  Like every other season before it, this one is terrific.  I will miss Dexter tremendously; it is without doubt my all-time very favorite TV show.  But thanks to Jeff Lindsay, his brain-child will live on as he (hopefully) continues to pen Dexter novels with plots equally as good as Showtime's but with a different twist on the characters' adventures. 

I'm hoping another one comes out soon.  Dexter withdrawal is MURDER!

;-)

Junk

I have been going through the house on a mission to eradicate extraneous belongings in preparation for what I hope will soon be a move to The Villages.  I've managed to fill two giant garbage cans (so far) with junk in various forms.

There are things I once treasured but which have become worn and sad looking - like the Coach leather briefcase I carried while I "dressed for success" in the 80s and 90s.  There are gifts I've kept but never liked - I won't give examples just in case the gifter might read this hahaha.  There are things that are still useful - like several dozen partially used ballpoint pens and cheap frames with faded pictures (I kept the pictures of course).  There are a few boxes of things I attempted to give a second life by leaving them off at Goodwill.  But mostly there is just plain junk that will probably grace a landfill for the next millennium or two. 

And, ah yes, there are the things that even though they are junk-like, I could not quite bring myself to toss into the Hefty bag of doomed tchatchkes.  The small framed Pears Soap girl that looks too much like me in my childhood days.  A yellowed book of "Practice for Army Tests" dated 1942.  Old paperbacks like "Aunt Erma's (Brombeck) Cope Book" and "I Can See You Naked" (a book on public speaking, don't think dirty), both small gifts from my late BFF.

I have a long way to go and the Cavern of Strange Treasures (the garage) will require hubby's input to sort out.  Where did all this junk ever come from!? 

;-)

Two Years

That's how long I've been blogging.  OK, I know I've been a little busy lately (obsessing) and haven't blogged since Wednesday, but I do have 592 posts to my credit already so I guess I deserve to be cut a little slack hahaha.

I see the opportunity for lots more topics to opine about coming up so I think I'll be blogging on for the foreseeable future.  I haven't caught a chatty blog about life in The Villages so maybe that's a rich vein I could tap?  The Kindle book I downloaded "The Complete Guide To The Villages" was not so complete so maybe I will have something to add.  Of course I have a lot of work to do to get there first...

Happy Anniversary to my gazette, my soap box, my almanac, my memoir, my tabloid, my journal, my scrapbook, my core dump, my inner musings, my blog.  You are all of the above but just like when I was 14, 15, 16 and 17, you are still my very own Dear Diary. 

;-)