Housework is My Work...Finally

Okay, so you know how you start a new activity, or hobby, or sport, and you go through a sort of "honeymoon phase", where all you do is that thing? Well, I have been caught up in a phase with my new horse Nello.  And while I have been having a ball being a cowgirl out at the barn where I keep him - trail-riding, training him in the ring, giving him baths, caring for him, hanging with my like-minded horsie-friends, well....my house is falling apart.  It really is.

The first clue was when a plastic plant died.  The second clue was when guests opted for "jiggling around" instead of using our guest bathroom; I guess it has been awhile since I cleaned in there.  The third clue was when I bemoaned the dark stormclouds and bad weather we keep having, only to hear that it's been sunny every single day - my windows are just grey with dirt and dust.  The honeymoon has to end, and quick!

My only job right now is to keep this place humming.  It is not humming...it's coughing, or gagging.  I have to shape up!

Today is the day.  I am going to get on my housedress (see photo), get out the cleaning bucket, turn on the hot water, and get to work!  I may do some laundry too - my husband is perpetually hunched over in our room, looking through baskets muttering, "So are these clean, or what?"  (The only reason I can have this honeymoon phase, by the way, is that he totally understands it - he is addicted to golf.  We've lost him for days, too.)  Even his calm nature has it's tipping point, though - he wasn't buying my claim that "breakfast for dinner" is a happenin' new trend - at least not when it's cereal.  Old cereal.

So Nello, my friend, today is not going to happen for us.  I must grow up, and find that balance in my life that I am constantly seeking, and am now pretty doubtful about ever attaining.  But it's been real, boy.  (Psst: hey, it's okay, don't worry; maybe I'll sneak out tonight to see you!)

One Good Question for A Few Good Men

                                                                                   10:02 PM:  

Just relaxing tonight, watching a re-run of one of my favorite films, "A Few Good Men," and I have a question, and it is burning a hole in my brain, itching to be answered.  The question is not whether the common citizen understands military jurisprudence with all it's formalities, or whether or not relations with Cuba are as strained as they were at the time of this story.  My question is furthermore and heretofore also not what happens when a talented young man tries to live up to the legend his dead father became when he was alive, as Tom Cruise's character struggles with as he tries to find justice for the two enlisted men accused of murder and "Code Red-ing" a fellow enlisted man.

My question is this: what the heck hairstyle did Demi Moore have, exactly, in this film?  It looks like a "DA," a term popuar in the 1950's (and way before my time, by the way) that stood for, well, "duck's ass."  Is it a DA that she's sporting, or a 40's-style chignon, or what???  I need to know, now! 

This blog is dismissed, and will re-convene here tomorrow.

Amy Winehouse - Rehab

I would have loved to hear more...
Facebook and Google, it's a shame we have to endure a banner ad during this video; can we stop the ads for even one minute?? Money, money, money.  Go to Money Rehab.

Lucky to Have a Break, Yet Still Complaining...

Okay, quick post while I am near a computer...we are at the Jersey shore, and it is approximately 95,000,000 degrees here.  I just slid off a micro-suede couch due to sweaty legs.  My sunglasses fall off every time I bend over to pick up a discarded beach towel due to Sweaty Nose Syndrome.  We are all making excuses to go to our rooms in our rental, because they have AC. ("Hey, Hon, I'll just be in here for a few...I'd love to get another look at that caulking job the owners did on these windows!")

The ocean is absolutely stunningly beautiful - sparkly with small whitecaps, and today, everyone is in - old folks, kids, lifeguards, sea urchins, etc.  I was trying to read, but the words were blurring from sweat - a Civil War book may be too heavy of a choice - I keep getting befuddled by which side is Union, which is Confederate - that's how hot it is; can't remember simple Civil War terminology.  Should have chosen a cheesy romance.  The kids keep trying to play paddleball, only to groan when they miss one, and have to move two inches to retrieve the ball.

Tonight we are going to the boardwalk, where we can slump on benches and try to keep up with our melting ice creams.  God bless every single one of you who is working in this heat - so important to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!  And check on the elderly neighbors - and the Reillys - if you are down at Cape May Point, NJ.

"Horrible Bosses" A Horrible Role for Jennifer Aniston

Well, my husband and I just got back from the movies, and I wish we had seen the new Winnie the Pooh or even Transformers 3 again - Horrible Bosses just made me sad.  It made me sad for two reasons:

1.  Jennifer Aniston is a good girl, whether she likes it or not.  To hear sentence after sentence of bad, sleazy dialogue coming from "Rachel" made me feel bad for her, bad for me, and bad for her fans.  She was unconvincing and dreary and, as always, beautiful.  But sadly lacking; mostly in project-choice here.

2.  Similar to "Superbad", "The Hangover" and other films of this new "crude-com" genre, the laughs in "Horrible Bosses" rely on male idiocy (which is funny, when it's done well), and crass, shocking dialogue.  So shocking (and usually involving body parts and animals or women) that after the joke, your brain goes, "Hey, wait...that is just sick!"  And that's if you are a guy.  I was just offended/bored by most of the crude comedy in both - and found parts of both riotously funny. But not funny enough to recommend, or see again.

I am not a prude, and I feel like I know humor, and comedy, and I think we just might be losing the art form.  Jennifer Anniston, you know funny, too - go back to it - and keep your clothes on!

Same Time Next Year - the answer is YES!

Now THIS is a movie. "Same Time Next Year."

America is Flat Broke!

After listening to both sides of the continuing budget debates, I am convinced that Speaker of the House John Boehner needs to hold tough with the President and not concede to a budget agreement that includes raising taxes.

America is going broke, and without big businesses being healthy, we are going to fall into an even more serious decline.  I am baffled as to why this is not a no-brainer for the hard-line Democrats.  Have we ever known a prosperous America without big business?  Could we possibly be where we are without the formation and survival of our successful corporations? A big business cannot be healthy burdened with crushing taxes.  Some people are richer than others, and some fall through the cracks.  Life is not fair, and taxes won't help.  We need creative solutions combined with tried-and-true values.

(Idea: Why not urge corporations to "adopt" more social needs, instead of taxing people to death to cure all that ails us - which has never worked anyway, in all our history?  Every inch we make through government help demands more government employees, more paperwork, more red tape.  Businesses make change and grow programs efficiently all the time...can we incentivise them to help starving American children, help save farms, build effective shelters and drug rehabs?)

Anyway, the President is saying that he is taking some risks in conceding to the Republicans in order to get a budget deal done by early August.  Well, heavy is the head that wears the crown, sir - you don't get points for upsetting people in your party - that's a given, if you are doing the job right.

Stay strong, Mr. Speaker!  Get this budget deal done right!  We need jobs, and we need them NOW.  Breadlines may be all the rage again if you don't.

Happy 4th!

I hope the 4th is a wonderful day for all who love this country, and celebrate it's uniqueness, it's freedoms, and it's foundation.  In America you are free to decide your own fate, you can vote without being shot at or intimidated, if you are sick or in need you can find someone to shelter or care for you.  It is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and was started by the blood, sweat, and tears of amazing men and women.

Do we have problems? Yes, we do.  Do we need to protect what is special about America?  Yes.  Our credit rating is in jeopardy, many are without work and more importantly hope, our systems fail sometimes.  We have increasing crime and poverty.  Our moral compass seems to have a broken needle a lot of the time.

But we celebrate the good things, the right things, the true things - this country and how blessed we are.

It's Midnight's Time

One of my friends at the barn where I keep my horse has to put her horse down (euthanise him)tomorrow, and the whole barn is sad.  Her horse had a freak accident in the ring, and because of his unique make-up, the healing process just never took place in the way it should have, and now with one leg hobbled for many months, his other leg is wearing out.  His health is perfect except for this - heart, lungs, and mind are young and healthy.

It has been amazing to see her go through the last act of horse "parenthood" - making the decision to end his journey now that he is feeling pain.  My friend talks softly to him, cleans his stall lovingly, and feeds him all the things he loves as the days trickle down to tomorrow, his last day. To me, it is in their silence, when standing together, that they say volumes to one another, as they prepare to say goodbye.  As we talked and shed a tear or two together recently, she said, "Just due to a horses' mere size, they have such a presence in your life.  And when they accept you, and offer you their love, that size breaks your heart, in a way." 

This is for Heather, and Midnight, and to a relationship I was blessed to see, and won't forget, ever.


"Somewhere" by Stanley Harrison



Somewhere in time's own space


there must be some sweet pastured place


where creeks sing on and tall trees grow,


some paradise where horses go.


For by the love that guides my pen,


I know great horses live again.

Laughing out Loud, or Lying On-Line?

I'm just going to put this out there...I have something to admit.  It's hard to confess, but I don't think I'm alone...so, okay, here goes.

 Sometimes, when texting, I write "LOL," and I'm not laughing out loud; not at all.  What's worse, I'm probably not even chuckling, or giggling, even.  It's probably deadly quiet; just me and my cell phone.  I am probably either 1) maybe grinning, 2) having a shocked or surprised face, depending on what you told me, or 3) already distracted, but writing "LOL" anyway.  I know; it's a deception, and I'm not feeling great about that.

Am I alone, or are others out there pretending to be laughing out loud when reading texts, too?  And what does that say about us, people?  C'mon!

  I love the Bruins, as I probably made pretty clear in my last post, but here is my favorite hockey player, from my favorite team.  This is my 12 year old son James, who plays for the Reading Rockets, Reading, MA.

I fought the hockey thing with James for years - even as he hugged his knee-hockey stick at the breakfast table as a baby who couldn't even walk, even when he requested skates for Christmas - at 3 years of age.  It involved too much, I figured - hockey is a family sport, as well as a team sport.  "PLEEASE, Mom, can I play?" he asked, eyes wide and sparkling with tears, one summer morning when he was 7 years old.  He was playing street hockey (the next best thing - with a tattered net and a banged-up stick, a cast-off from his brothers, who were soccer kids ((I love soccer!!!  Why coudn't he learn to love soccer?? One hour and you're done!  Less serious injuries!!  It's not freezing on the sidelines!!)

"Yeah, pleease, Mom?" his partner in crime echoed - his dad, my husband Fred.  I stood with my coffee at the curb (I'll never forget that moment), and looked at James.  What if he got hurt?  What if he broke his neck and became paralyzed?  What if the freedom we were edging towards - his brothers were 17 and 20 at the time - was ripped away from us as we travelled from rink to rink, eating at drive-thrus and carrying on friendships by text and at rinkside?

Well, what if?  Then we would deal with it as a family.  The bigger crime would be to deny a kid the glories, sense of team, and...yes, a lot of discipline - that hockey demands.  And our time will come, my husband and I.  But this is OUR time - me, and Fred, and James.  So eight months a year we are hockey-folk, driving from town to town always looking for the rink.  It's a great life, really.

And P.S.... Fred takes him to most practices.  So I've got that going for me.