Black Friday Can Give a Glimpse into Black Hearts

Thanksgiving has been washed and put away for the year. For some, that happened last night, while their turkey was still digesting and unwashed dishes were still stacked high in the sink. These forward-thinking folk take advantage of a crazy lil' thang called Black Friday. Read on...

http://lapostexaminer.com/black-friday-dark-side/2014/11/28

Whatever your method, good luck, safe travels, and leave room for the Spirit of the season.

Enterovirus D68 Is Scary

I just wrote a column about this new virus, called Enterovirus D68, that is now affecting children in 43 U.S. states. More troubling than the severe respiratory symptoms is the now-baffling limb paralysis that some patients are experiencing.

Here's the column: http://lapostexaminer.com/enterovirus-d68-prevention-keep-sick-children-home/2014/10/09

Have children wash their hands, keep them home when having symptoms, and don't panic - hopefully it will fade by the end of November!

High School Reunion 2014 - Say What? We are 50+?

 
(Me and my best bud Nicole, 9/20/14)

Last week-end I attended my 35th high school reunion. How is this possible, I wondered, zooming down the highway towards my hometown, and home. How have we all gotten this old?

Your fifties are funny, because there is a certain sense of unreality, at least for me. Sometimes I shake my head and say, wow! I'm over fifty! Inside, of course, you are you, and I don't know if the soul or heart or whatever it is that makes you unique really has an age.

I had a wonderful, terrific time, and I laughed with old friends until the wee hours. I realized, in those precious days revisiting my youth, that age is both about trying, and acceptance. You must accept that yes, your body is aging, and so is your mind. (Where are those damned car keys?) But equally, imperatively important is that you must keep trying - every day. You must learn another thing, feel another thing, do new things. In many ways my fifties have been my most active decade - now that the kids are older, I can ride my horse, kayak, hike - whatever is fun in the moment, that day. The wisdom of my age tells me how far I can go with any activity I choose, but my eternal heart or soul - that which does not age - keeps me reaching out like a kid. I hope future decades do not change this.

Here's a column on my reunion, if you'd like to take a look: http://lapostexaminer.com/high-school-reunion-brings-laughter-memories/2014/09/29

Happy end-of-September!
Deirdre

Air Conditioning Is Nice

Dear readers,

I am posting this column from 2009 tog et you through another hot day...enjoy! (One of my favorites)

Deirdre Reilly: The art of air conditioning – a primer

 

Summer weather has finally arrived, now that it is August, and with the heat and humidity comes some challenges for us all – some of us more than others. (And here I am referring to the children of America, who have to endure back-to-school ads as they are finally climbing into their bathing suits.) Below please find your handy guide to navigating the last third of summer and its warmer weather. With this guide, some patience and a few electrical outlets, you are good to go!

Today we will be tackling air conditioning. Now, if you are lucky enough, you have central air, and being comfortable in the heat is as simple as putting down your martini or highball, adjusting your ascot and rising from your leather wingback chair while singing out, “I’m going to put the AC on now, Lovey, before we adjourn to our yacht for the night!” You are one of the lucky ones. For the rest of us, using a “Fan to Window AC” strategy is what gets us by. First, we go get our fans from the attic or basement with sweaty, grasping hands. Then we bring them to our living spaces and simply plug them in. Important note: Try to clean your box, standing, or oscillating fan first with wet paper towels; otherwise when the family gathers excitedly in front of the fan, they are blown backward by the dust balls and random, unexplained dirt that has accumulated in the fan, and instead of feeling refreshed, you are coughing and gagging - which only tends to make you hotter. Another note: Children, it is fun to sing into the fan, a joy that central air people will never know. My kids have always gone with “America, the Beautiful.” Try it.

The second part of the “Fan to Window AC” method is, of course, when the mercury continues to rise, and the family gets savvy, and realizes that the fan is simply blowing around hot air. The teens catch on to this first; since they have not secured summer jobs like they promised they would - they are underfoot and have a lot of time to examine why it is so hot in your home. They will yell out sentences like, “You do realize that fans just blow around hot air, dude” and parents, sweating in another room, clench their fists and remember that school is starting up soon. Anyhoo, it is time to locate the window air conditioning units.

This is an art in and of itself. Last year, after you inserted the units into the windows, flushed with feeling real chilled air, you made a vow to yourself. You said, “I shall vow to put these refreshing window units in a place I deem both logical, and easily accessible. A place that makes sense; a place that creates value and peace for the family.” Then, months passed and the first snow fell, and as you were outside brushing snow off the backside of the window unit, you said to yourself, “Gee, it’s February. I should yank these out of here.” You did this, and chucked them in the first available space. So now you are paying for that. They’re spread out all over the place. Simply check the following areas: under the house in the crawl space, in the garage angled crazily in the corner near the rakes and hoes, or crammed in the attic balancing precariously on your old college desk. Now you’re in business!

One challenge of the window units: they never fit, not really. You are either going to be jamming them into the window, or pushing them right through the window, where the unit will either smash to pieces on the lawn, or give a good laugh to your central AC-drunk neighbors, who are watching you out their fancy windows while chatting on their fancy golden cell phones with their brokers and polishing their diamonds. Don’t even give this a moment’s worry, though – you haven’t even reached the hard part yet. You will need an adapter to plug this beast in, and you’ll never find one. You’ll be rummaging through your drawers and closets with a personal body temperature of 150 degrees, and the window unit will be balanced in the window, just taunting you.

It’s time to take a deep breath and re-group. Send a teenager out to buy a new adapter even though you know you have at least thirty hidden in the house, while you and a trusted friend or spouse adjust the unit properly in the window, and then fill in the gaps on either side of the unit with rolled up hand towels. I myself use Christmas towels – they look festive, and may encourage you to remove the units in December, so that you can use the hand towels for the purpose Wal-Mart intended them to be used for – as hand towels. Then, take the newly procured adapter from your hot teen and plug that secured unit right on in.

I’d like you to stand back and just take a moment to look at yourself. You have done it, my friend. Your unit is secure – and, gives off both cool air and a nice holiday feel – and your teens are looking at you admiringly. Sure, this unit is 25 years old and is as loud as an 18-wheeler shifting gears, but you have done it. You have provided cool air for the family, and you will sail through the rest of the summer. Good for you! Now go sit down and enjoy a cool popsicle; you’ve earned it!

ISIS: Less a terror group more an emerging government

Below is my latest column posted to Los Angeles Post Examiner: some facts about the organization and efficiency of ISIS. They are less a ragtag collection of desert thugs and more a sophisticated, tech-savvy emerging State, intent on erasing Syrian/Iraqi border first, and then...

ISIS: Less a terror group more an emerging government

Trip to Maine's Rocky Shores

This past week-end I and a few friends went to Bristol, Maine for Old Bristol Days, which is a much-anticipated summer celebration. It features a parade, fireworks, and lobster boat races, and is a ton of fun -- even for newbies. One of my friends was raised in Bristol, and her family treated us to an amazing cook-out in the middle of the annual small-town festivities...the desserts alone knocked us out! (Peanut butter pie? Come on!!)

The week-end started with a morning ride on my horse, Nello. (In this picture he doesn't have his bridle on yet, and thinks he can reach a bag of carrots he has spotted...comical.) We took a solitary trail ride which was amazing -- the birds were chirping, we spotted a few deer, and the mosquitos had taken a break from their hobby of driving us crazy. Nello has had something of a miracle descend upon him this summer - he is pulling a Benjamin Button, and is more fit and happier (he actually seems younger) than I've ever known him. At 23 he is not a spring chicken, and he is loaded with arthritis, but this summer has seen us gallop down the trail in defiance of all I have been told told he can never do again. I never ask him to gallop, but if he wants to (if he starts it, in other words), I'm willing. He is funny - a laid-back, good-time fellow, on the trail he shows his one competitive streak, and has to be first in line. We laugh about it; it's as if his" inner Secretariat" comes out. (My trail-riding buddy says, is it Nello that has to be first, or you, Deirdre?)

 

Then it was up to Bristol, about three and a half hours away. Bristol is on the easternmost tip of Maine, and is part of the legendary rocky shores of Maine -- absolutely stunning, and everything you hope for on the drive up. We rented kayaks and took them out each night to see the sunset over the bay, and also, on the second night, to have prime seating for the Bristol Days fireworks. The wide open water of the bay was almost surreal in its many-layered peacefulness -- the water lapping quietly against the kayaks in the dark, the penetrating, hazy light of the "SuperMoon" hanging up in the sky like a huge orangey golf ball, and then, at long last, the fireworks exploding from the shore, sparkling over the water we were floating in before fading, then disappearing completely.

You could probably spend a lifetime really exploring New England. I felt like I was thousands of miles away from my home right outside Boston, but I was just three and a half hours away. I am now a huge Maine fan, and hope to return soon to hike its wooded trails and explore its culinary delights (lobster omelettes! yum!) as well as more kayaking.

                                                (Lisa in her kayak waiting for fireworks)


We had to keep reminding each other to put our phones away (cameras), and be in the moment. In today's social-media-driven world, that is a challenge; we feel obligated to share snippets of our lives -- the ones where we look good, the appealing ones -- with everyone. I am here, I have value, our "shares" scream into the void. My fear? That we become a series of snippets, unable to live longer, quieter moments long enough to absorb the value they offer. (Moonlight kayaking gives a girl deep thoughts!)

 As our designated IPhone photojournalist, however, I was granted a pass, and snapped many fun, cute, beautiful, serene, and goofy pics. (There were also many duds; several of my knees in the kayak.)

 

 

 

I am so grateful for the hospitality offered by the Blank family, and for the time with my friends. I am so grateful to get away -- both with Nello, my big indulgence in life -- and on the waters of Pemasquid Bay. I encourage everyone to leave the man-made boxes that are our homes, and get outside and live. You won't just find adventure...you will find you.

Hug Your kids and buy a Taylor Swift song on Itunes

 Taylor Swift surprised a little fan at Boston Children's hospital a few days ago, ready to play and sing with him. This little boy was diagnosed with leukemia after also suffering with heart problems.



Taylor plays a Toys R Us guitar (and pretty much rocks it!) to entertain this little sweetheart. You know how you grumble about work, the yard, the mortgage or the general craziness of life? Well, imagine having a child living in the hospital and suffering through treatments, all for an uncertain outcome. That is harsh. The other stuff is peanuts -- we should be grateful for such "problems."



Great job, Taylor Swift! You sound great and Boston appreciates your efforts for sick kids.

Gang activity at Arizona Border

Happy Monday!


Here is another column about trouble at the border -- this is such a sad mess for the children involved. However, we must protect Americans by developing laws and protocols for welcoming anyone to the U.S., no matter how much our heartstrings are pulled, or we will more resemble the countries these kids are fleeing than the country we now love and enjoy.

Here's the piece: http://lapostexaminer.com/gang-recruiting-flourishes-border-crisis/2014/07/28

Central American children flood across U.S. border

Below is my latest column about the influx of Central American children across our borders. This is a hard one to write as a mother, because I would do anything for my kids, and I can see the difficult choice some parents are making when sending their kids alone to cross into America. But many more are sending their kids due to a loophole in our policies, not due to imminent danger.



So, read on, and develop your own thoughts on the topic:





Central American children flood across U.S. border

Where Is Your Happy Place?

Welcome to my happy place. This is the very large screened-in porch at the back of my house, and it is here that I work, play, think and say my prayers, many days. It is a place that has a lot of "me" in it -- with a family of men, I have "called" this room, so to speak, as my own. (they can come in to visit, of course. I'm not crazy...most days.)

This room was added to the home by the previous owners. Apparently the husband who raised a family here had roughed out a much smaller porch, and when his wife saw the plan she said, "If you are going to do it, DO IT!" I thank her every day for that foresight.

When the Marathon bombings occurred in Boston, I was sad and didn't want to watch television, so I decided to paint this porch. It took 30 hours, but it got me through that time and was transformed from dark brown wood walls to light blue and white. We bought the couch in the discounted section of Jordan's Furniture, and the tables are Target. The trunk is a Civil War trunk I bought on Ebay (my one and only purchase -- I didn't account for shipping from a Philadelphia antiques dealer for this piece -- I almost drove down to get it myself.) Lets just say that shipping was more than the trunk itself!

I sleep on the porch some summer nights -- it is a lifesaving antidote to hot flashes and sleeplessness. And rainstorms? From my porch I have seen lightening storms, heard strong winds buffet its exterior, and have fallen away from consciousness to the sounds of steady rain on the roof. In the morning the birds in the backyard wake me up, and breezes blow the gauze floor-length curtains from their rods and they curl over the couch and recede, like waves. I have hosted girlfriends here (Holla, Longfellow Ladies!!) and we have had guests gather here during cook-outs and birthday parties.

Is there a television out here? Yes. I love watching TV out here, and the sounds of the Red Sox (come on, fellas! What is UP with this season??) drift into the yard from our porch. We watch movies out here, and I watch "The Bachelorette" here alone every Monday night, with my husband and son drifting in and out asking, "So who is left?"

Everyone needs a place to call their own. Even if it is your car, your attic, your bathroom or your patio, everyone deserves a place to "be." A place that asks nothing (except maybe a weekly cleaning!), and is as dependable as the moon and stars. Well, my porch isn't that dependable -- it can be torn off the house in a tornado, and will someday, like most things, be gone -- but the feeling it gives me I can take with me. You know when you are nervous and you remind yourself to "go to your happy place?"

I go to the porch.


P.S. Baby, our "little old lady" rescue poodle, snuck into this pic -- I am her "porch" -- she follows me everywhere!

Important Medical Alert

Hello,

Read on if your memory is failing you when it comes to remembering names. It could be more serious than you realize...

Click link below:

http://lapostexaminer.com/important-medical-alert/2014/06/23