Fun

I enjoy lots of things - a good book, dinner out (or in), Friday night services, getting together with friends, a quiet evening on the sofa with the TV, finding a great bargain, a lap in the pool. But few things cross the line to actually being FUN. 

It's hard to have real FUN as you get older - you have done almost everything at least once before and even fabulous scenery and new places don't excite the way they used to. Playing Maj Jong with my regulars at the Rec Center or my neighbors actually does qualify as Fun. But a joy ride in the golf cart qualifies as Big Fun.

Yes Dear Diary, it seems that one of the funnest things I do lately is joy ride in the golf cart, either with or without hubby. It is more fun than a motorcycle, bicycle, scooter, adult trike or convertible - like a super-sized go-cart for us Big Kids. I traverse down tunnels under highways, through secret shortcuts and along foliage lined paths where cars cannot go, and I can get to anywhere in The Villages with hardly a stop and without venturing into vehicular traffic. The cart is open to fresh air (unless it starts raining) and it is oh so simple to operate. You don't even need a driver's license or license plate, it gets 50+ miles a gallon and insurance costs $10. a month! There is even a smartphone app that directs you through TV via golf cart paths. Best of all, it's truly FUN!

When I have nothing to do (a rare occurrence) or I am feeling a bit low, a ride in the golf cart will readjust my mood like nothing else. It is my favorite toy and infinitely more satisfying than playing with electronic gizmos all day.

FUN!

;-)

Hope

I woke up today feeling hopeful. The pain in Tooth #19 is almost gone (Thank Goodness) and the world does look better when one is pain free. When the pain subsided I was reminded of how wonderful life is just to feel good and be able to go about my day and do the things I want to do.

Hope is what keeps us going. Not just me, the whole human race. I'm pretty sure that lack of hope is what drives a sane person to suicide or deep depression. And don't forget, it was the grasping at the nebulous Hope and Change mantra that got (ugh) Barack Obama elected President.

Hope is the belief that a better day is on it's way. That no matter how many times we've screwed up or fell flat in the past we will do better next time. Is Dr. Oz touting a new miracle product or diet? Will one of the many candidates for POTUS who are currently spewing their schemes for the middle class and the free world make any difference? We hope this one will be The One. 

Good morning world. I greet you with a new plan for my day and hope in my heart.

;-)

Naked and Afraid

I almost gagged when I heard about this show on the Discovery channel but after accidentally catching a few glimpses of it I slowly became if not hooked, at least interested. Two strangers, a man and a woman meet - sans clothing of any kind - in an inhospitable location and have to survive 21 days with only some kind of chopping tool and a fire starter. 

When I am naked I am also very afraid. Afraid of seeing a deteriorating body that comes with advancing age. Afraid a few extra pounds will multiply until by body resembles a melted candle and I will be buying stretchy polyester pants and over sized tunics. It gets harder with each passing year to keep a decent (it was never great) figure. But I try.

In the spirit of Naked and Afraid I am giving myself a 21 day challenge. I will face Nature by walking around the block (it's slightly hilly).  I'll drink more water and stick to healthy foods. Take my vitamins. Try to drop a few pounds.

Yep very scary...

;-)

Who's That Lady?

A 65 year old lady woke up yesterday in The Villages. She fetched the morning paper and drank her two cups of coffee while reading it. She dropped off two bags of supplies for the neighbor collecting things for Operation Shoebox which sends "care" packages to our servicemen and women in uniform. It was a gorgeous day so she decided to take the golf cart to her weekly Maj Jong game at the Rec Center. One of "the regulars" was  missing so she met a new lady who was alone and happy to fill in as a fourth. How they laughed! It was a wacky, wacky game and she had to assure the guest player that they are normally more on-the-ball. The new player laughed and agreed to play with them again next week (they had been wanting a fifth player).

Our lady came home and grabbed her hubby and headed out to the synagogue (by golf cart) to pay for the upcoming Shavout dinner. They are planning to go since a favorite couple invited them to go together. There were a few folks they knew there so it was nice to say "hi". Then off to Wal-Mart for a few supplies. 

Our lady and her hubby were thinking about dinner when another favorite couple called with an invite to join them for dinner at one of the nearby country clubs. Another quick trip by golf cart and a delicious dinner in a beautiful setting with congenial company. 

I have to pinch myself to realize that this perfect day in this perfect place was my own.

;-)

A Woman of Valor

From left, clockwise: my Grandmother  Chava,
Aunt Shaindel, Aunt Edith, cousin Victor and
cousin Frimette

Today is Mother's Day and also the evening Havurah Negila is getting together for our monthly social. On tonight's agenda is a round table discussion of Women of Valor we have known personally or who have influenced us from afar.

I have chosen to talk about my Aunt Edith, my father's sister. 

When my grandfather brought his family from Poland to assume the position of Chief Rabbi of Toronto he left behind his oldest child, Gittel, who was already married to Ben Tzion Rabinowitz, also a Rabbi. When the Nazis invaded Poland Rabbi Rabinowitz was shot dead and Gittel was murdered at Auschwitz.  Three of their four daughters were sent to slave labor camps and the fourth, Rivka (rumored to be the prettiest) was led away never to be heard from again.

Survivors!

Aunt Edith (Yides) worked tirelessly to locate the three nieces (who somehow wound up in the Netherlands after the war). It was a struggle to get them Canadian visas (I believe this involved "greasing the wheels" in Ottawa) and to finally bring them home to their extended family in Toronto. Aunt Edith worked to teach them English, dressed them in nice clothes and introduced them to three nice Jewish boys who would become their devoted husbands and the fathers of ten children. All of the cousins were given a real start in their new lives thanks to Aunt Edith. From extremely humble beginnings, my aunt and her husband provided support to all our family  - not just to her own children and the three refugees.

So Aunt Edith is my Woman of Valor for this Mother's Day tribute. 

;-)

Ouch

For someone who has needed minimal or no dental care over the years (only one root canal and crown) I'm surprised at my new ongoing struggle with tooth #19. 

After visiting two dentists (horrible experiences with both) and finally getting a root canal from a highly experienced endodontist plus a follow up visit for some additional tweaking, I am still hurting. All signs seen to point to inflammation or infection so I am dosing myself with antibiotics and ibuprofen. 

It's hard to keep going when I'm in pain and I'm getting a little discouraged. It's been months since I actually felt really good (not all due to tooth #19),  I am also bummed that FOREVER - a favorite TV show - just got cancelled and that I had a wee fender bender this week. Things are merely OK, certainly not great lately.

What do I do when the going gets a bit rough? Keep busy. Clean the house (I believe in the life-changing magic of tidying up). Go food shopping. Call someone. Put on makeup so I'll look/feel better. Make a hot beverage. Remember all the things I am grateful for.

I know things will get better but for now I'm just trying to get past "ouch"....

;-)

Marco Part Two

Whenever I am interested in a political candidate I get their book(s) from the library and learn more about them. I read The Audacity of Hope and Dreams from my Father - I found them tedious and dull - and tried Hillary Clinton's Hard Choices (which I could not possibly slog through). But in an effort to be an "educated consumer" I fetched Marco Rubio's latest - American Dreams - and his earlier autobiography - An American Son - from the Sumter County library. American Dreams is a compendium of his policies, the ones I'm sure he will run on in the upcoming primary. There are literally dozens of ideas for reform presented one after another - mind boggling! I hope he puts them together in a kind of comprehensive list for easy reference.

But it is his autobiography from 2012 that truly grabbed me. It reads like a novel, one page turner after another. His life story is truly astounding.

What captivated me the most are the tiny details, twists of fate, and serendipitous chance occurrences that produced the product we see today on the national stage. So many little things could have gone some other way and the person that is Marco Rubio could exist in a hundred different embodiments. And not just things from the Senator's own life - the strange sagas of his grandparents' and parents' lives all shaped his destiny.

So I am pondering how I got to be here, today, enjoying a rich and fulfilling life in America and retirement in The Villages. We all have a story to tell and I'm sure they are all as compelling as Marco Rubio's...

;-)

A Tale Of Two Temples

Temple Solel

Before we moved to The Villages we belonged to Temple Solel of Hollywood Florida. I loved going to services there on Friday night. 

Without doubt, Temple Solel is the most beautiful synagogue I have ever been in. It is tastefully simple yet somehow warm, welcoming and powerfully spiritual all at the same time. Listening to Cantor Rosen sing was like listening to the voice of God. The Rabbi would give a sermon, sometimes deep and thought provoking, sometimes merely informative and interesting. As the light in the sanctuary changed from twilight to dark and the stained glass windows reflected the arrival of Shabbos, I had no doubt that I was in a holy place. When I left the Temple, I felt spiritually refreshed. The end of the work week was well defined by the start of our age old tradition.

When we came to The Villages, we joined Temple Shalom. It is also a beautiful synagogue with lovely stained glass windows and it's truly awe inspiring when you see it lit up at night. The services and commentaries on the Parsha are conducted by very talented lay leaders and musicians. Truth be told, the three alternating versions of the Friday night service are enjoyable but getting a bit boring; they never vary more than an iota. 

Temple Shalom

Temple Solel and Temple Shalom differ in another way. The services at Temple Solel were attended by perhaps twenty to fifty (big night!). We only met two couples that we saw outside of services in our almost three years of membership. Temple Shalom draws a full house almost every week and almost all the attendees are congenial folks of our own age. We have met literally dozens of people who are now friends and social companions. 

In some ways I feel I have traded off the intangible feeling of sacred mysticism I felt at Temple Solel for the friendship, camaraderie and fellowship I find at Temple Shalom.  Which is better? 

Not a clue...

Caregiving

So fortunate both hubby and me are blessed with good health. At our age it is one of our greatest blessings. Neither of us takes any prescription drugs and when hubby went in for for his pre-op knee surgery exam this fact seemed to astound the medical practitioners. No diabetes? No heart medicines? Nothing for high blood pressure? Nope, nope and nope, just vitamins (and we both miss a lot of those).

But with his surgery last week and new knee I have become a (very) part-time caregiver. Truth be told, it is not much of a big deal but it does cause me to reflect and appreciate what true caregivers go through. The worst thing I've had to do this week is miss some of my activities to drive him to follow-up  and physical therapy appointments, help him put on those white stretchy socks, jump up to fetch things when his knee is propped up and (most important) be sympathetic when he is struggling or hurting. Happily, full recovery is very, very close.

The beauty of this operation is that benefits will ensue. Hubby confessed that he was having trouble standing up during services (up and down, up and down, that's par for the course) and of course I suspected his desire to circle parking lots endlessly searching for the nearest spot was a result of the pain he felt when walking. I can't wait for the time when we will stroll the craft fairs, malls and festivals for longer periods.

God Bless the real caregivers.

;-)

24 Things

If I can believe this article called "24 Things Women Should Stop Wearing After Age Thirty"  I would have to give up some of my favorites:

Graphic Tees (huh! why not?)
Bedazzled anything (love my tees with jewels and beads)
Leopard print (honestly, a favorite with older ladies (but I don't have any))
Sparkly pants (a little (or a lot of) bling on the pockets is fine)
Oversized sunglasses (the bigger the better I say)
Hoop earrings (OMG my favorites)
Old sneakers (older=better)
Cheap bras (they can be cheap as long as they're good)

But I WILL take a pass on these:
Blue eyeshadow
Victoria's Secret PINK (never had any)
Non-matching socks
Furry Boots
Furry Anything
Tube tops
Short dresses (threw out my last one a year or two ago)
Mini skirts
Overalls
Booty shorts (I would if I had any booty)
Glitter eyeshadow
Platform flip-flops
Abercrombie and Fitch (never had any)
Scrunchies (I would if I had longer hair)

Age is Just A Number and Thirty is not a special one. Bedazzle and Sparkle On!

;-)