Another Birthday

For me, birthdays were so much more fun when I was younger.

I remember when I was a kid and how much I really anticipated my birthday? The excitement, almost made me wet my pants in the anticipation of that big day. My birthday signified my special day and I felt that everyone should focus on me and plan a great celebration. Maybe my birthday should have been a ticker tape parade with fireworks, and definitely with confetti that would rain from the perfect blue sky. A sunshine day ordained by God.

I loved my birthdays and couldn’t wait to see and eat my special birthday meal, followed by chocolate cake with chocolate icing, and ice cream.

One present that I remembered getting from my brother made me search my brain and questioned out loud, “Why?”
My brother answered, “That’s what you pointed out in the window of the toy store.”

“A globe of the world?” I was incredulous in my reply and knew that he had missed the doll or stuffed animal that was next to the globe.

When I turned 16, my father played the record, Sweet Sixteen by Johnny Burnette. My father played that song over and over again, all day long. Of course on the outside my face was beat red. But inside, I was secretly pleased.

Another memory crossed my mind about one of my birthdays. It wasn’t my best memory. Years ago, when I was married and had nine little children, my now, ex-husband, gathered all my children, took them out, and treated them to dinner at McDonald’s. I was left home, alone. That birthday was over 30 years ago and I can still remember how awful I felt. Man, that birthday really sucked!

I just celebrated another birthday. My kids planned the party at my house. They strolled in with their spouses and children with presents, pizzas, beer, appetizers, cupcakes, ice cream, and the most delicious cake from the Oakmont Bakery.

Each year it gets harder to see another birthday being notched to my belt. There are a lot of notches there but spending it with the people who care and love me, like my kids, their spouses and my grandchildren, makes the birthday celebrations and years to come, so much more palatable.

Thanks again!

Continuing Work in the Kitchen

I arrived in the catering kitchen a short time before my daughter. I looked over the list that she had dictated to me…make two garden salads in big bowls. Use greens from bottom shelf. Make cucumber salad. Dressing is labeled.

I start off by cleaning the food trap in the dishwasher. Rinse it, replace it, fill dishwasher with hot water. Washing my hands, I pull out the two salad bowls off the shelf. I walk into the big Walk in Cooler/Refrigerator and pull greens from bottom shelf. I notice that the Romaine lettuce that I had cut the day before and take that as well. Usually I am supposed to mix the two. The Romaine had turned brown and some of the mixed greens look slimy. I do my best to find good greens, and then mixed them together. Halfway, I pull out some tomatoes, and cucumbers to put in the salad, along with olives. Picking through more greens, I add this to the remainder of the bowls, and at the top I put on more tomatoes, olives and the whole, sliced cucumbers. I wrap the salads and labeled them for Saturday’s wedding.

My daughter walks in and goes ballistics. “What’s that? I told you to use the mixed greens, not the Romaine. What the hell happened to the Romaine?”
“That is how it looked…I picked through it. Besides the mixed greens looked awful as well,” I sputtered, and then clammed up. I listen to her yell some more and then both of us pick out the cucumbers, tomatoes and olives and threw away the mixed greens.

“Why did you use these cucumbers?”

“Well there were three containers and I took the ones labeled for Saturday’s wedding,” I explained. I thought that was logical but I guess not in her kitchen.

Finally, my daughter has vented enough. She apologizes and said something appears wrong with the Walk-In refrigerator. The refrigerator seemed to be 10 degrees warmer then it should have been. She will have a repair person come in and look at it.

Finally, I make the cucumber salad using the half sliced cucumbers and cut the remaining ones in half, mixed in the salad dressing. I add more salt and pepper, dill, and paprika, and then cover it tightly with plastic wrap, and set it on a shelf in the front refrigerator.

While working in my daughter’s kitchen, I have learned a few things - nothing goes smoothly, try not to react because the chef is always right, and everything can be pretty much remedied.

Barnes and Noble

I still miss Borders. I miss sitting in the café and working on my writing, leafing through a magazine or book. It has been closed for quite awhile. Today, I find myself at the Cranberry’s Barnes and Noble bookstore. I am sitting in the café writing and looking out the window at the light snow that has been falling. I feel comfortable and content. I especially feel at home sitting amongst the famous writers’ images that surround the top wall of the café wall, like: Joyce, Hemingway, Woolf, Dickinson, Kipling and so many others. Some day I wish to be one of the pictures on the wall or have a book that I have written on one of the shelves at the bookstore. Even though I have a Kindle, I sit with a stack of books and other things in front of me…a meditation book that I will buy, a journal, a calendar, birthday card and a gift for one of my grandchildren.

So, I continue to write away, to fulfill my dreams. I posted my novel on Amazon for Kindle and on Barnes and Noble for the Nook. I have sold over a dozen books. Not bad for someone who doesn’t have a book printed in hard cover or hasn’t really bothered to advertise my book. I’m working on my second book, while I have other projects in my writing bag or in my head. I never bother with New Year resolutions because I will break them some where along the way. But mentally I know that I will be working on my writing and that is always my resolution.

Today is a good day though to be at Barnes and Noble and to continue on my writing journey. For me, it doesn’t get any better then this.

A Wii for Me

When my son moved out, he took his Wii and Xbox with him. I decided I wanted my own Wii system and games, so that when the grandchildren came over they would have something to play with at my house.

I went to Target and bought the Wii System, which came with the Wheel Consol, Remote, Nunchuck, Wii Wheel and Mario Kart game. I bought a 2nd remote and Nunchuk for a second player to join in, along with five Wii games. Yes, I’m vying for the grandmother of the year
I wanted the Wii set up on my Living room television. All I wanted to do was be able to press a button to play the game. Sounds simple…huh? Oh no, not in my house or on my Television. Nothing ever seems to go that easy.

It was obvious that I needed more outlets in the back of my TV and until I can figure out what I need to buy – this would have to do. If anyone wanted to play the Wii game, they would have to pull out the plug for the DVD and hook up the red, yellow and white plugs into the back of the television.

The first time my grandchildren came over…that is what I did pulled the plugs from the DVD and put them into the back of the television. It took awhile to get things going, but thank God my seven year old grandson could figure out how to get the Wii game started.
Later, I will head for a store and buy an AB switch and all I will have to do is switch it on and not bother to move the television and play around with the red, white and yellow plugs.

Yes – I am vying for the title of Best Grandma of the Year. Just as long as I have someone else to help me figure out all this mechanical stuff that goes into all of it.

1 Boob, 2 Boobs, 3 Boobs, and more...

For Christmas I received a few gift cards to Macy’s Department Store, and decided maybe I would use the cards for a new purse, or shoes, or make up or some cool jewelry. I should have chosen one of those four items. But I didn’t. I wish I had, but instead, I decided to invest in some new bras that fit, and found myself at the lingerie counter in Macy’s.

Since I hadn’t been measured for a bra since I was probably 11 years old (I pretty much figured my size after this event), the sales lady and I went into the dressing room where she would measure me.

“Oh my, those girls are overflowing. I had that same problem. Oh wow, you do need a bigger size then what you are wearing!”

Not only did I go up a bra size but I increased in the cup size. The lady left me standing in the dressing room and I looked at my girls and thought – why is it when you get older – everything and I mean everything grows, spreads and droops? Damn, I added and sat down on the bench, and waited. The sales lady returned with one of the ugliest bras I had ever seen - a beige one that was huge and would make my dead grandmother gasp. It had underwire and when you laid it down flat, it could have been used as a two dinner plates. If you cut the two cups off, you could have a Frisbee or a Boomerang. Not only would my underwear be fitting for a granny, so would my bra.

I tried it on and hated it, while the lady came back with an even larger one. After I tried this particular bra on, the lady returned and agreed with me that I needed a smaller bra. Thank God, I had enough space to rent that bra out for a couple more girlie roommates.

Each bra that the sales lady brought to me, depressed me further. Thankfully, she announced that she had to go to lunch. I was on my own. I got dressed and looked through the bras and found the size that I needed without the killer underwire, tried it on and then purchased it. I even bought the one that the sales lady had brought to me with the underwire, and I am not at all sure why? I blew my gift cards on bras, which didn’t make me happy at all.

From Bally's to LA Fitness

During most of my life, I have been pretty active riding bikes, roller skating, using a skateboard, playing volleyball, softball, basketball, and tennis. After I married, I enrolled in exercise classes, along with running up and down stairs doing the laundry for 11 people, picking up babies and carrying them and chasing after 9 kids.

I belonged to the Y for years, and finally, when everyone grew up, I joined Bally’s Fitness in 1999. I exercise a minimum of five days a week. The gym was always crowded and at times, it took a wait to use the machines. Eventually, I figured out the best time to go to the gym and be able to use the workout machines without waiting. I hit the gym anywhere between 6:30 am to 7:30 am. Or sometimes I would go between 11-2 in the afternoon.

But I preferred the earlier time slot to jump start my mind and body for the long day ahead. I liked being at Bally’s, as I went about my daily routine. To be honest, I never talked to anyone, other to say hello or just nod to some of the early morning regulars.

As I worked out and listened to the music on my iPod, I became a watcher of others in the gym. A lot of gym bunnies and the muscle bounded hard bodies were always out in full force. My favorite or most annoying person was the perky blond with the pony tail who wore short shorts and an exercise colored bra and talked to every good looking guy in the gym. She talked more then she exercised but maybe talking was her preferred form of exercise. Or the one man who spent more time trapping anyone and everyone in conversation. He talked a lot more then he sweated over an exercise machine. He spent hours in the gym. There was one smaller man who seemed more comfortable exercising, surrounded by his loyal posse of women. He was a charmer. At least he worked out while he talked. Most of the hard core exercise buffs, the men, seemed to have muscles on muscles, and their upper bodies were a body builders dream.

There were older people, some with canes and a few in wheel chairs. There were young and old and they crowded into the gym. I grew to become more comfortable around the gym with the other people that I shared the machines with.

As the years changed and the people changed, some dropped out and new ones took over the machines, the one consistent in all of this was that Bally’s never changed. It remained the same. Sometimes a few new machines were added. That was it. When a big rain storm would hit, some of the ceiling tiles would drip and be removed and trash cans would be placed around to catch the steady flow of water.

Then September 2011 came and La Fitness opened not to far from Bally’s. A large number of people left Bally’s and I kept going with some of the die hards. I could go into Bally’s any time of the day and there would be around two dozen people in the gym, including the personal trainers and the person at the front desk. December 8, 2011 was the last day that Bally’s was open. LA Fitness bought Bally’s out and they picked up the memberships. I signed up at La Fitness and paid they same amount that I was paying at Bally’s. To be honest, La Fitness is new and it is really nice. The place is packed but it is big enough and has many exercise machines to accommodate the number of people exercising. They have a salt water pool, racquet ball courts, an exercise class area, basketball court and weight area, tons of exercise weight machines, like the elliptical, treadmills, StairMaster, exercise bikes, and even rowing ergs. Some of the machines have television screens and a place to plug in earphones to listen to the programs.

I found it kind of nice to be in a new clean and up dated surroundings. I miss Ballys even with all of its outdated equipment. It was home to me. But as I pass a few of the old Bally’s members, a ghost of a smile of recognition crosses our faces as we nod to one another. I know that I will become more comfortable with LA Fitness in time. It is easy to work out there, and surprisingly, I do break a sweat while I work.

Working a Wedding

Recently, I came into my daughter’s catering kitchen to help with some last minute food preparations for the wedding she was catering in the evening. I usually help to do the cutting and prep work, while my daughter and her helper, Julia, helps her with the cooking. Sure, I can make salad dressings and different types of salads, dips, along with cutting up veggies, cheeses and fruits and arrange them on platters. To be frank, I am pretty good at the presentation of the platters, and get my share of compliments. This time, I came in Saturday morning to help my daughter with some last minute preparations. She mentioned that she would be working with a skeleton crew. I mumbled something and she said, “Great, I can use your help.” With that, she handed me a gray, long sleeved shirt and black apron that the other servers usually wear.

When I showed up for work at the wedding hall, my daughter did a double take and told me how professional I looked. I think her actually words were, “You don’t look like a dirt ball.” And I took that as a double handed compliment.

I helped to set up the antipasto platters of cheeses, meats, marinated green olive and black olives, marinated mushrooms and artichokes. I helped to plate up over 160 salads with greens, black olives, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers and purple onions. Later I would drizzle balsamic dressing (that I had made earlier) over each salad. My daughter pointed out a spot on part of my shirt, that wasn’t covered by the apron. “Look, you have a water spot.”

When she turned around, I sucked on the spot and said, “Nope, balsamic dressing.”

When the servers went out to remove the salads and appetizer plates from the tables, I decided to help. Hey, I am a mother and cleaning up tables comes naturally to me. I tripped over one of the skirted chairs, which were extremely close to one another. I didn’t fall, but decided I hated skirted chairs because one’s toes can get tangled up in the chair covers. I made a mental note to veto skirted chairs for my two daughters’ upcoming weddings. When I removed one of the plates, I managed to drop a fork on the floor and some dressing with a piece of cheese on a woman’s coat. The woman happened to have gotten up and walked away before this happened. I discreetly used my little finger to swipe at the dressing as I gracefully bent over and picked up the fork. I made a second swipe, as the man next to me picked up his napkin, leaned over and wiped the cheese/dressing off of his wife’s coat and said, “I never saw a thing.” I silently thanked him, moved away and took the plates into the kitchen. My daughter looked up from removing food from the oven and told me that I didn’t have to bus the tables. If she only knew.

My job at the wedding was to work at the buffet table; I would be handing out the Green Beans Almondine and the Twice-Baked Potatoes. I needed to make sure that each person got enough of the beans and only one baked potato. But when everyone had their food and they opened up the buffet a second time I could hand out another baked potato. It was hard to limit the potatoes when someone asked for two but I did promise that they could come back after everyone had been served the first time. That seemed to satisfy everyone.

In the end…I was able to get out early. It did take me hours for the swelling in my legs to go down with the help of some Aleve. It was interesting to see the end results of the wedding after helping to prepare for it.
As for the salad dressing stain and my tripping on a chair cover, and dropping food on a black coat…I guess that is par for the course for me. The next day I asked my daughter how the wedding went and she said fine. Obviously no one said anything to her. I was home free, until the next time or until she reads this blog.