My summer is pretty good.

I’m more addicted to the computer than ever.  My favorite sites are nytimes.com, boston.com, twitter.com, foursquare.com, weneedavacation.com, epicurious.com, time.com.

I watch less TV than ever.  I used to keep the little kitchen countertop 13″ TV on throughout the day to keep me company.  Now I listen to the birds in my backyard, most of whom devour the sunflower seeds at the feeders suspended from Home Depot wrought iron plant hangers screwed to the window trim.  The birds eat better than I do some days.  This year I added a hummingbird feeder and the little guys stop me in the middle of a conversation in the kitchen and believe me,  it is impossible to stop me in the middle of a conversation so these birds must really be something.

I’m enjoying the social media sites, twitter and foursquare.  It’s funny how you can keep up with friends and people you’ve never met simply by checking in to these sites regularly.

I’m swimming as much as I can; off the boat we keep on Canandaigua Lake this summer, but sometimes in the Thornden Park pool.  I just wish we could bring some kind of lawn chair onto the pool deck to relax and read between laps.  Towels on concrete just don’t cut it. Rules, rules, rules.

My new free default exercise is jumping jacks.  They were laughably easy in gym class during grade school, but now they gang up on me.  Go ahead and see how long you last.  You won’t be laughing anymore. I do them with 5 lbs. weights in each hand for additional punishment.  Great bang for the buck and they’re as close as my solid garage floor.

My daughter leaves for graduate school downstate in a couple more weeks.  Having her with me this summer to share conversation and girl jokes, helping with dishes and joining me shopping or for a glass of wine at the end of the day is something I’ll treasure all my life.

The boys are around and great too but they’re different from girls.  Duh.

The rental season at my Cape Cod house is strong and families are calling to report they had a great week and they enjoyed my artwork on the walls.  I painted my own paintings because I couldn’t afford real artwork done by others.  It cracks me up these families don’t seem to know the difference or at least they don’t care.

I’m amazed at the stuff I’m pulling out of my house to sell on ebay for extra cash.  Just when I thought I sold all the stuff I haven’t used or worn for two years, there’s always more.  The old saying “I wish I had a nickel for everything I bought and didn’t use” is trumped on ebay where you can get much more than a nickel.

In spite of this splendid summer of sunny days and warm temperatures, of children around me and flowers that thrive, of cooking that gets a little better all the time, I wish I had more time to read books, to spend time with friends, to write handwritten notes to pals around the country, to visit my elderly aunt Marion in the nursing home in Massachusetts.  I wish had willpower to resist potato chips.  I wish I liked my coffee with a little less cream and a little less sugar, but alas…..  I wish cheese didn’t taste so good.  I wish I liked yogurt more than I do and whole wheat bread which I gave up trying to like years ago for tasting like a wad of sawdust in my mouth and ruining a perfectly good sandwich.

I wish the varicose vein running down the back of my leg would disappear instead of get worse, but at least it doesn’t hurt and thank goodness it’s in the back of my leg instead of the front because I don’t know what I would do if I had to see it every time I look in the mirror.  God placed a whole bunch of stuff happening in the back of women that they should never know about.

On the whole I’m doing pretty well this summer.  I’ve had one small flare up of poison ivy and I don’t have the body chemistry that attracts mosquitoes.  The lawn stays green with no effort. Things could be much worse.

And you?  How are you doing this summer?

{ 11 comments }

I came across a website sponsored by the people who manufacture Pilot brand ball point pens.  It’s pilothandwriting.com.

Essentially, with five minutes of your time you can create a font of your own handwriting.  This is scary for most Americans who seem to have lost the art of decent penmanship.

Through all those years of answering viewer mail at WTVH  TV, I could tell the approximate age of the letter writer by the quality of the handwriting on the envelope.  My own personal, informal and highly unscientific study of handwriting concludes any individual born after 1950 is better off typing.  Whether students were beaten, degraded, whipped with a belt or held after school for the weekend, the method of teaching handwriting back then worked.  The lettering is beautiful and you can even read it.

On pilothandwriting.com you create an account, then download a template which you fill in with numbers and letters, much like the old handwriting exercises in grade school.

Then, you take that piece of paper and scan, photograph or hold up to a webcam for the website to record.  I chose the webcam option and it was quick, easy and incredibly cool.

In a couple of seconds your individual lettering is processed into your account and you are ready to type a letter or document that looks just like your own penmanship.  Once it’s done, you mail it.  I mailed it to myself and the sample is below.

So take all that spare time of yours; you know, the time you should spend obeying the boss, cutting the grass or washing the car, and start playing with pilothandwriting.com.  Let me know what you think.

{ 7 comments }

.

The boy cat anticipates his next meal

Of our three pets, the 15 year old boy cat remains the most helpful.   We got him when he could fit in the cup of my hand and the children were very young and too competitive with one another to agree upon a name.   As a single mom with four kids, a house and a job, I was too tired to push cooperation on something as relatively insignificant as the name of a kitten, so we kept putting it off until “the boy cat” became the permanent moniker.

The boy cat had the run of the house for six years until Eika the german shepherd moved in and sent the cat into the garage for good.  No more sleeping cat nose to nose at night in the bed, his paw often resting over my neck like a person.  The dogs replaced him.

Until about two years ago, the cat spent most of the good weather in the woods behind our house, coming around late in the day for a dish full of food and some water.  But he’s getting old now and like everyone on the dark side of mid life, he’s slowing down and reluctant to get outside.

I’ve also noticed over the last year that there’s something wrong with the part of his brain that regulates appetite.  He apparently never knows he’s already eaten and keeps asking for more.

The kids assume I’m too preoccupied with my little projects to notice a starving cat and they get him another plastic container full of food every time they walk by, which only makes him obese and unable to outrun the dogs who would love to make a meal out of him.

Last night I learned while the cat may be slowing down, he’s still a highly efficient killing machine.  In an apparent bid to impress me and loosen my grip on the food, the cat delivered two freshly killed mice right on the carpet runner where we come and go from the garage, dead center and impossible to miss.  He could have killed them and left them at the scene of the murder, but instead he carried them to where I was guaranteed to see them.

“Good cat” I purred.  ”You’re still killing stuff and earning your keep, even if in your mind you’re being punished with a severe pay cut”.

I know the subject of usefulness is up for serious debate among pet owners and I invite your opinions on this.  After all, how could any pet be more useful than a dog who loves unconditionally and demonstrates a desperate desire to please, no matter how little is thrown his way?  Believe me, I see the value of a family member like that.

Cats love conditionally.  Stop feeding them and see what happens.  They’ll cut their losses and leave.  Except for the boy cat.  He sticks around through famine and even offers up an occasional dead rodent to show me he’s worth more food.

“Never mind, boy cat.  Now that I’m back from Cape Cod and in charge of the rations, you’re slimming down nicely once again.  You’re sleek, muscular and shiny, a domesticated panther not far from your wild evolutionary roots”.

Murder victim number 1

Murder victim number 2

Part diety, part assassin; an exquisite killer in the family.

{ 6 comments }

My 17 year old son, the fourth child, is back from his trip to Italy with the Shapperts of Dewitt.  I picked them up at the airport just before 11.  They looked and acted as you would imagine they would after 24 hours of travel; exhausted, not yet able to process what was the very best they experienced in that ancient and extraordinary country, and happy to be home.

No surprise, Christian found the Italian children to be quite different than Americans.  Congregating each day at a pier at the foot of a castle on the island of Ischea, Christian said the Italian children of all ages treated the two Americans like rock stars.  That Christian could perform a front flip off the pier into the Carribean-like azure waters of the Mediterranean Sea greatly elevated his status with the locals.  As they said good bye to their new Italian pals, Christian reported one of the 17 year old boys embraced him for a long time, in a very un-American way,  and said he would be missed.

There’s something about the children of Europe that is genuine, warm, kind and uninhibited.  Christian said the boys wore a variety of swimsuit styles; some speedo-puny, some American-like board shorts and others in between.  In America, according to Christian, when someone wears something out of step with all the rest, they get dissed, but in Italy, the children adore difference in the way only sophisticated American adults might here.

Christian said the Italian kids of all ages felt blessed to have American kids from “New York” in their presence and of course, they all spoke with varying degrees of English proficiency.  Do we treat foreign visitors with the same appreciation and acceptance?  Christian saw amazing sites in Italy, but if nothing sticks besides the way he and Matt Shappert were treated by the local kids, the money for the trip will have been worth it.

What do you think about this?  Have you been to Europe and observed the same thing?  I’ve been to Europe several times, witnessed first hand the way European children behave both there and here in America, and I found Christian’s observations to be consistent with my own.  I’d love to know your thoughts.

My gift from Italy; a porcelain German Shepherd from Ishcea

{ 5 comments }

The Riverside Center shopping center in Utica is for sale.  Syracuse based Pyramid Companies, owners of the shopping mall with the scariest exterior in America, are seeking a buyer through Brokerage firm CB Richard Ellis, according to the online publication Commercial Real Estate News.

Like most commercial development, the rental income from the Riverside Center is declining each year.  CREN lists a 2009 net cash flow of $2.86M, down considerably from $4.26M in 2003.

Pyramid is trying to convert some of its tired shopping malls into open-air centers like Fayetteville’s wildly successful Towne Center.  Riverside Center was one such mall that became transformed into 670,000 square feet of strip anchored by Wal-Mart, BJ’s and Lowes.  But the mall developer is struggling with occupancy, losing  Steve and Barry’s and Linens ‘n Things when they both filed for bankruptcy two years ago.  The latest figures available show the mall is now 87 percent occupied.

Pyramid Companies tried selling many of its malls several years ago in an apparent bid to free up cash for the going-nowhere Destiny USA Mall/Cement Coffin in Syracuse, but withdrew for lack of a buyer.  This relatively small center in Utica should appeal to the smaller developer looking to enter the market.

Riverside Center carries a debt of $38.1M.  If you’re interested, better bring a big, fat checkbook.

{ 2 comments }

Christian’s trip to Italy with the Shapperts of Dewitt is just over two weeks old now and as I expected, I didn’t hear from him until he ran out of money.  Here is the latest digital back and forth between us.

Hey mom.  Just checkin in.  I only have 70 euros left and all I got was some candy, a few drinks and a gift for you and the Schoonmakers and lunch for all of us at a cafe.  So i was wondering if there was any way you could transfer 80 dollars to last me the rest of the week.  I still need to get dad a gift and something for myself.  And do you have any suggestions for a gift for dad?

Today we went to this beach really close to the house right next to this castle and I was diving off of this bridge into the water.  It was frikin badass.  I’d send more pictures but I can’t get internet on my laptop since there’s no wereless internet around.

Tomorrow we’re going on a day trip to Pompeii. Excuse my terrible spelling but the spell check only corrects italian and the keyboard is whacked here. Love, Christian

Never mind my feelings about relying on spell check for spelling and punctuation in any language, but here was my response:

Sure honey, I’ll do $150.00 for you.  Get something good for yourself.  Enjoy the ruins, but please don’t add to the artwork on the walls.  Can’t wait to see you this weekend.

{ 7 comments }

It was the perfect escape in every way.  My two weeks on Cape Cod are over and my house is now in the hands of families who will rent it by the week, every week, through Labor Day.  Good bye house, hello money to pay for it.

It’s startling and gratifying to watch these trips evolve.  I began my history with Cape Cod as a kindergartner when my parents took the family to a cramped and musty ocean-front ranch for 100 dollars per week that imprinted the scent and sound of the surf on my mind forever.  Now I find I need the ocean, like some people need the woods at a campsite, even if it’s only to glance at the sea out the window on a drive-by.

We rented that cottage each summer for six years.  It was only for two weeks at a time, but it felt like two months.  I recall my surprise years later when my mom told me how brief the trips were because the experience was so big.  I was determined to do the same for my children.  That’s how it all started.

Natalie, 23, started her history at the Cape at the age of 3.  Christian, 17, has gone since he was an infant.  In those early years our vacations to rental cottages had a distinct and predictable pattern.  We woke up with the birds around 5 am., ate breakfast, and hit the beach with sweatshirts because it was so darn early.  We saved on sunscreen with the sun still sitting on the horizon.

A few hours there and it was back to the cottage for lunch. Then it was the adult’s opportunity to explore.  We packed the kids in their car seats where they promptly fell asleep for two or three hours while we drove around.   By the time we got home, around 3, the kids wanted the beach again and the routine began anew.   Beach, dinner, ice cream cones and sleep.

By the time the kids became teens the trips had really changed.  Everyone wanted a pal for the trip so we rotated with Natalie getting a friend for the first year,  Harry the second year and so on, until it was Christian’s turn and by then Natalie didn’t want to come at all.  At 15 she was so darned unpleasant she was practically uninvited anyway.

How age does change people.  Now Natalie is the first one to sign up, usually in January, for the trip that occurs reliably every June.  This year she was the only child to make the trek.  Christian and a friend had come on Memorial Day, Harry had taken the house with some friends the first week in June and Charlie, 21 has returned to Tampa, Florida to work for the summer before he begins senior year at the University.

Shadows on the sand at sunset

This year was marked by lots of hosting and activity the first half, then some solitude and time with Cape girlfriends the second half.  In the two perfect weeks without a single rain drop I had my fill of lobster, I watched the roses and hydrangea unfurl around my house, I bought little treasures in the boutiques along scenic route 6A  which is the largest historic district in the U.S. and I swam in water that was almost too warm to be refreshing and I did that nearly every day.   Family, food, friends, a recipe for contentment wherever you get them.

Cranberry bog on the walk to the beach

Now I’m back to a dirty kitchen and dog hair tumbleweed all over the first floor.  Mail fills a box.  The refrigerator?  You don’t want to know.  I’ll get to all of it bit by bit.

And summer is in full swing here.  Cape Cod is a perfect place for me, but you can do a lot worse than a Syracuse summer where everything is green and people are out and happy.

Vacation is over but there is much to look forward to.

{ 8 comments }

My 17 year old son Christian is the luckiest duck to be invited on a trip to Italy with the family of his longtime buddy Matt Shappert.  After one year of dreaming about it, and another year planning it, the four left JFK two days ago and will return on the 17th after absorbing Rome, Naples, Pompeii, an offshore island and who knows what else.

I convinced myself not to be bothered that I wouldn’t hear much from Christian knowing how busy they would be, but I awoke to an email with the rundown of the day’s first sites.  I’ll share the letter with you, but first you should know I raised my children to speak the “King’s English”.  No swearing or even slang allowed.  So occasionally my children talk a little “blue” to have some fun with me.  I occasionally turn the tide by speaking “blue” right back and it always surprises them, so that’s the setup of the email.

I hope you’re enjoying your holiday weekend and that you are finding ways to keep cool in the heat.

Hey mom, right now im in the hotel in Rome and we’ve spent all day walking around and seeing all the cool stuff like the huge ass fountain, some monuments, statues, ruins and a glimpse of the Colosseum. Tomorrow were going to the Colosseum and today we also went to a italian diner place and i got this pasta and i’ll never see pasta the same. ive got some pictures i’ll send u later. i may not be able to email you again since my laptop wont fit in this adapter for the UK power outlets. maybe I can buy one myself with 3 prongs instead of 2. I guess i could also use my ipod for email. But whatever. Ill talk to you later hopefully. Love, your favorite child

********

Here was my response to Christian:

Christian, thank you for this email.  Sounds like you’ve hit the ground running.  I feel like I’m on the trip with you!  I’m familiar with all the landmarks you mentioned but never saw the big ass fountain in any guide books.  The Shapperts must really know Italy.

Natalie will be jealous of the pasta you’re eating.  Me too.

Love, Your favorite parent

{ 9 comments }

With particular apologies to Carol, Don and Denny who posted comments of worry, I’ve been in heaven lately and for the first time since I got a laptop and internet connection, heaven lately has not included a computer.

I didn’t intend to be away from the blog this long.  It’s just that every time a thought popped into my head for writing, I walked away instead to the beach, to the yard, to the Cape Cod homes of other people selling cool stuff on craigslist like the perfect pine bookshelf, 48″ by 48″ that fits the wall and my expanding book collection better than the old one.

My favorite plants, roses and hydrangea

In short, for the past couple of weeks, even a sink full of dishes appealed to me more than coming up with something clever for the blog, for just above the dishes, outside my kitchen window is a branch of roses blooming and reaching over as if to wave a “thank you” for all those hours spent high on a ladder getting scratched by thorns and for tilling manure and compost around their roots three times per year.

Charming little cottage on Nantucket

For the full week after my last post about dads I was still in Syracuse in full-tilt prep mode.  You know that feeling, when there are simply not enough hours in the day to tie up all the lose ends before you depart for a lengthy trip out of town.   As luck would have it, on that last day when my chores demanded 28 not 24 hours in a day, I woke up to a flat tire.  Even though I was fortunate to find a garage to repair it with no notice, that same tire flattened again within hours as I raced around town to complete my errands.   After that experience, I needed a vacation more than ever.

Tom and I with a view of the harbor in Provincetown

But now I am here on Cape Cod,  one week down, 8 days to go.  Sunshine is streaming into the living room windows of my modest little house.  The TV talks of all the traffic heading to the bridges over the Cape Cod Canal.  Giant cobalt blue hydrangeas six feet in height dominate the view out of two of the windows.  I placed them there when they were foot long sticks with a couple of roots nine years ago.  I had no expectation they would survive but now they stop you in your tracks.

Dinner on the wharf in P'town

There are more of the roses saying thanks outside the windows to the backyard.  There are neighborhood children speeding past the front windows on their bicycles, bicycles that sometimes get tossed by the side of the road at night and are still there in the morning because no one would dream of taking them here.

I’ve already been to Dunkin Donuts for my coffee and enjoyed the first few sips of it in the parking lot of Bank Street Beach while studying the color of the ocean and sky.  At 9:00 am there a few families with very young children setting up towels and toys.  I told Natalie when she and her brothers were that age, they used to wake up at dawn and ask if we could go to the beach now which makes Natalie chuckle for realizing how far she has evolved from that early bird.

Two beauties: Natalie and a Nantucket street

It all sounds so relaxing and peaceful, but week number one involved much more activity.  My friend Barbara and her daughter Mikel joined Tom, Natalie and I for our first weekend here.    The demand for a lobster dinner was so pent up, that we ordered the crustaceans from George’s Seafood in Harwich from the car on the Massachusetts Turnpike.

There were lots of such meals and excursions those first few days.  When Barbara and Mikel departed, Tom, Natalie and I hosted our Cape friends the Nearhos’ for dinner and we took day trips to Provincetown and Nantucket.  There is no end to the photo ops here.

The picture on my home page was taken one year ago just off the wharf in Provincetown.  I cannot believe a full year and five pounds have occurred since then.

Lively Provincetown

Tom returned to the office two days ago.  Natalie welcomed her friend Sarah from Maine yesterday and expects two more friends to arrive from Rhode Island this afternoon.  All will leave early Sunday morning for various destinations, including Natalie who will head to Boston for friends there.

That will leave me and my Cape girlfriends and the beach and my book and my roses and hydrangeas and the Red Sox on TV nearly every day and anyone else who looks at the perfect forecast and decides on a whim that a Cape trip is possible.

So apologies once again for this long delayed check-in.  It was probably a little callous of me.  When comments don’t pour in I sometimes forget anyone reads what I write and I think no one will care when I don’t.  But I learned my lesson.  It’s a comfort to know people click on and it is especially heartening to think readers I’ve never met can actually worry about me.

Like the roses waving thanks from outside my windows, I give a heartfelt thanks to you all from sunny and sandy Cape Cod.

The "New Dawn" climbing rose says "thanks" and so do I

{ 12 comments }