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"I can't believe I'm a snowbird!!" I declared, the truth hitting me for the first time as Admiral and I headed north on I-95 in mid-April headed home from Florida. For years I've laughed at snow birds clogging the major corridor through Richmond, southbound in winter, northbound in spring. It was grand to be one.
Honeymoon # 3 was a memory. Taking seriously and excitedly Admiral's request to make his house our home, selecting colors was the first place to start and the biggest roadblock. Beige, accented with maroon, was all over his house. And they are so not my colors.
As I pondered what to do, the perfect person, a colorist, showed up. That's right, a colorist - for homes and businesses, no less. Never hearing of a colorist, I was intrigued. The more I talked to her about her work, I knew she was the professional to help 'color up' Admiral's oh-so-safe-and-monotone house. Skillfully she found the perfect colors for the main rooms and the best painter to make it happen.
Admiral expressed his skepticism with "This looks mighty bright." "Is that the color I picked?" "Is this really going to work?"
Meanwhile my condo was getting the reverse treatment. I agonized about the best beige (sounds dumb, doesn't it!) to cover my cheery hot pink, yellow and green walls. Friends - don't stew over the perfect beige as there is no such color.
Of course, before the first brush touched anything, cleaning out and moving my stuff was all consuming. "Who put all this stuff in here? Where did it come from? What was I thinking? Will I need this again? This place isn't big enough to hold all this stuff. Honeymoon to Nantucket can't come soon enough." were some thoughts. Days were filled with numerous trips to the trash can and Salvation Army for junque and Admiral's house for my treasures. Basic furniture would stay in my condo as it was going to be rented furnished so I didn't have to store excess furniture.
Neighbors popped in saying "You're really going to do this, aren't you! You've been here a long time. Can't believe you were dating and I didn't know it. When can we meet this guy?" They quickly scattered at requests to help lift boxes.
For nineteen years my condo had been my haven, my safe place where I recovered from divorce. Now it was a launching pad to a new life. I was ready and excited for life's grand adventure with Admiral. And this refuge I call Sugar House, where life is sweet, was getting ready for a new life, too.
Teacher appears. Then what?
Save the date notices started in January. Celebrate the half century since graduation at the elite girls private school. I knew it was coming and wasn't looking forward to it. I hadn't been to a reunion in 20 years.
My years there - K through 12 - were among the worst part of my life. While a few events stand out in the early years at school, like way too frizzy hair from a home perm gone south, it was high school that seemed especially hard and uncomfortable. I simply didn't fit.
My BFF since kindergarten left in 9th grade, leaving me very lonely. I was an underachiever. My dislike for reading came from being forced to read books during every summer vacation. Thanks to Comics Illustrated I could turn in the required book reports when school started.
My parents were less affluent so my clothes were either knock-offs of the big brands or 'recycled' clothes Mother altered. Mother worked there for my tuition as it was important to her that I continue the family tradition of attending the school.
In a school with no room for average, I was an average student, failing 9th grade English. That put me in English classes a grade behind me. These and more instances fed low self worth and eroded all self esteem. Any confidence I had was dashed at every turn by teachers and class mates who were popular, cute, fun, A and B students, and all those things I wasn't. My college counselor sealed the message when she said "You'll never get into college. You're not college material."
Now I was faced with a reunion for the big 5 0. Faithfully my BFF attended reunions over the years, staying at my house when I did and did not go with her. For years she ragged on me to go with her. My reply was the same "I didn't like the school or classmates then and I'm not going back."
I had to face this self esteem issue and going was the only way to get rid of it and keep my power. Needing reinforcement, I called my BFF. "I went to the last one and Frumpy was so ugly to me and hurt my feelings so I'm not going. You're on your own for this one." she said adamantly.
Notices kept pouring in. Dread grew. Mentally I reviewed my accomplishments: started three businesses, sold one, provided employment for 100 people, raised two beautiful smart daughters by myself, survived divorce, wrote a book, and stood on six continents...
"So what's the big deal, girl? Get out of your head and out of your way and get your butt over there. Your classmates have nothing on you. Compared to hard things you've done, this is nothing. You've talked to some classmates over the years and they didn't like it either." I told myself.
Two days before the reunion, a teacher appeared. As I talked about the day and my reluctance, she said "An older person said to me once, 'When you go back to these things, you connect with someone on a different level. Everyone's had experiences, dealt with life and you never know what's going to happen.' So you'll have fun and be surprised at how the girls are and what a good time you can have." It was all too familiar since that's what I tell clients.
Resolutely I changed my attitude about the whole day. On the way to the reunion I affirmed 'I am having fun. I am me. This is easy. This is sport.'
Name tags had our first names in huge letters, readable without glasses. The years had been kind to most classmates. Some I didn't recognize. Making it a point to talk to everyone gave me the chance to connect and reinforce my worth and self eesteem. The usual few blew me off. The rest were chatty, full of life, stories and experiences. We connected in interesting ways.
It was amazing. I see a trip to Savannah with friends in the near future, classmate Janet being our tour guide. Mary, who lives in France, asked me to touch base with her when Admiral and I are there next month.
When the student was ready, the teacher appeared. Thank you, Teacher. The dreaded Big 5 0 reunion was a piece of cake.
My years there - K through 12 - were among the worst part of my life. While a few events stand out in the early years at school, like way too frizzy hair from a home perm gone south, it was high school that seemed especially hard and uncomfortable. I simply didn't fit.
My BFF since kindergarten left in 9th grade, leaving me very lonely. I was an underachiever. My dislike for reading came from being forced to read books during every summer vacation. Thanks to Comics Illustrated I could turn in the required book reports when school started.
My parents were less affluent so my clothes were either knock-offs of the big brands or 'recycled' clothes Mother altered. Mother worked there for my tuition as it was important to her that I continue the family tradition of attending the school.
In a school with no room for average, I was an average student, failing 9th grade English. That put me in English classes a grade behind me. These and more instances fed low self worth and eroded all self esteem. Any confidence I had was dashed at every turn by teachers and class mates who were popular, cute, fun, A and B students, and all those things I wasn't. My college counselor sealed the message when she said "You'll never get into college. You're not college material."
Now I was faced with a reunion for the big 5 0. Faithfully my BFF attended reunions over the years, staying at my house when I did and did not go with her. For years she ragged on me to go with her. My reply was the same "I didn't like the school or classmates then and I'm not going back."
I had to face this self esteem issue and going was the only way to get rid of it and keep my power. Needing reinforcement, I called my BFF. "I went to the last one and Frumpy was so ugly to me and hurt my feelings so I'm not going. You're on your own for this one." she said adamantly.
Notices kept pouring in. Dread grew. Mentally I reviewed my accomplishments: started three businesses, sold one, provided employment for 100 people, raised two beautiful smart daughters by myself, survived divorce, wrote a book, and stood on six continents...
"So what's the big deal, girl? Get out of your head and out of your way and get your butt over there. Your classmates have nothing on you. Compared to hard things you've done, this is nothing. You've talked to some classmates over the years and they didn't like it either." I told myself.
Two days before the reunion, a teacher appeared. As I talked about the day and my reluctance, she said "An older person said to me once, 'When you go back to these things, you connect with someone on a different level. Everyone's had experiences, dealt with life and you never know what's going to happen.' So you'll have fun and be surprised at how the girls are and what a good time you can have." It was all too familiar since that's what I tell clients.
Resolutely I changed my attitude about the whole day. On the way to the reunion I affirmed 'I am having fun. I am me. This is easy. This is sport.'
Name tags had our first names in huge letters, readable without glasses. The years had been kind to most classmates. Some I didn't recognize. Making it a point to talk to everyone gave me the chance to connect and reinforce my worth and self eesteem. The usual few blew me off. The rest were chatty, full of life, stories and experiences. We connected in interesting ways.
It was amazing. I see a trip to Savannah with friends in the near future, classmate Janet being our tour guide. Mary, who lives in France, asked me to touch base with her when Admiral and I are there next month.
When the student was ready, the teacher appeared. Thank you, Teacher. The dreaded Big 5 0 reunion was a piece of cake.
What do you do when you don't like it?
2011 goals lay before me. They were specific with 3 accomplishments for each month and vague to allow for serendipity. Spring goals were to plan the details around my condo, like moving, fixing all those niggily things I lived with that a tenant wouldn't live with, and finding a tenant. Unloading furniture and painting Admiral's house were last minute major additions.
"How was it all going to get done? It's grand being on vacation and I'm not feeling very relaxed." I thought.
With pen, paper and calendar I sequestered myself at poolside on a brilliantly sunny day in paradise, aka Naples FL. I had to figure this out so it all worked and I could breathe. You know the feeling - like drowning with overwhelm on a project bigger than you.
"Hey, it's here." Admiral hollered over the fence. "Come and see!" he continued, dancing in delight.
"OK. Whatever are you talking about?" I asked.
" Come. Sit here by me." he said. A tiny square box was in his hand.
"What in the world...oh my. It's my..." I said. As he opened the box I got very nervous. I'd had a conversation with Artsy about the engagement ring and how Admiral designed it. When I told her I was sure I'd like it, how he said if I didn't like it, he'd design another, and how I had to like it, Artsy said "Oh, no, you don't. You have to wear it and if you don't love it, you'll be unhappy wearing it. So forget liking it no matter what."
"Let me see." I exclaimed as I sat by him.
"It looks just like I imagined." Admiral said proudly. He turned the box so I could see and there it was - the most beautiful sparkliest diamond in an exquisite setting. "I love the illusion the stone is heart shaped. It's the prettiest setting I've ever seen and I wanted my girl to have the prettiest." he said as he slid, then pushed, the ring over a big knuckle onto my finger.
"What do you think?" he asked, beaming.
"It was well worth coming in from poolside." I laughed. "This is amazing. I'm so excited I can't sit still. It's beautiful! I feel giddy like a teenager!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around this most outrageous man. "You did really good." I affirmed. As an aside I added " Feel free to design more jewelry for me anytime you want. I have to call Artsy right now and tell her how beautiful the ring is."
"This ring spurs me on to get this planning done so our trips don't interfere with what I have to do." I said as I resumed planning.
Starring at my ring was the biggest distraction for this mundane planning activity. Hours later, planning to September 10 was complete. Four weeks cruising to Nantucket and back in the summer was the reward for this icky Ireallydon'tlikeplanning planning.
Planning was easier with the prettiest diamond on the planet to look at all the time.
"How was it all going to get done? It's grand being on vacation and I'm not feeling very relaxed." I thought.
With pen, paper and calendar I sequestered myself at poolside on a brilliantly sunny day in paradise, aka Naples FL. I had to figure this out so it all worked and I could breathe. You know the feeling - like drowning with overwhelm on a project bigger than you.
"Hey, it's here." Admiral hollered over the fence. "Come and see!" he continued, dancing in delight.
"OK. Whatever are you talking about?" I asked.
" Come. Sit here by me." he said. A tiny square box was in his hand.
"What in the world...oh my. It's my..." I said. As he opened the box I got very nervous. I'd had a conversation with Artsy about the engagement ring and how Admiral designed it. When I told her I was sure I'd like it, how he said if I didn't like it, he'd design another, and how I had to like it, Artsy said "Oh, no, you don't. You have to wear it and if you don't love it, you'll be unhappy wearing it. So forget liking it no matter what."
"Let me see." I exclaimed as I sat by him.
"It looks just like I imagined." Admiral said proudly. He turned the box so I could see and there it was - the most beautiful sparkliest diamond in an exquisite setting. "I love the illusion the stone is heart shaped. It's the prettiest setting I've ever seen and I wanted my girl to have the prettiest." he said as he slid, then pushed, the ring over a big knuckle onto my finger.
"What do you think?" he asked, beaming.
"It was well worth coming in from poolside." I laughed. "This is amazing. I'm so excited I can't sit still. It's beautiful! I feel giddy like a teenager!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around this most outrageous man. "You did really good." I affirmed. As an aside I added " Feel free to design more jewelry for me anytime you want. I have to call Artsy right now and tell her how beautiful the ring is."
"This ring spurs me on to get this planning done so our trips don't interfere with what I have to do." I said as I resumed planning.
Starring at my ring was the biggest distraction for this mundane planning activity. Hours later, planning to September 10 was complete. Four weeks cruising to Nantucket and back in the summer was the reward for this icky Ireallydon'tlikeplanning planning.
Planning was easier with the prettiest diamond on the planet to look at all the time.
Trail by fire lessons learned
While spending time in Admiral's naval fleet several experiences happened because I didn't know what to expect. Here are 10 basics I learned with trial by fire early on. Here goes, girlfriend to girlfriend.
1. Know that you will be 'taking the wheel' (that means steer) sooner than later.
2. Something will break that the Captain will attempt to repair right away. His head will disappear into a hole leaving his butt sticking up in the air - hence you have to 'take the wheel'.
3. Your manicure is shot.
4. You will have at least 2 new bruises when you disembark (get off the boat).
5. Slop on loads of sunscreen as you will sweat it off. Then slop on more.
6. Take a bag for sea shells to go in and a large beach towel. If the boat is sans potty, be sure there's a bucket to fill in. You will use all.
7. For entertainment (besides the Captain's butt sticking out while repairing the boat) bring bread, crackers and like bits to feed the gulls. How they hover is delightful and amazing.
8. You'll enjoy wearing your sunglasses and a brimmed hat. Hold on to your hat. Forget about your hair.
9. Wear comfortable clothes and layer up. You know what to do if it's cold or hot.
10. The Captain has rules. You'll have more fun if you know what they are so ask before boarding (getting on the boat). You might prefer to stay on shore if they are stupid (no food allowed and no sunbathing) or too many.
My hope is that you're saved a boat load (no pun intended) of upset and have a head start on a good time on the water. Bon voyage, girlfriend.
1. Know that you will be 'taking the wheel' (that means steer) sooner than later.
2. Something will break that the Captain will attempt to repair right away. His head will disappear into a hole leaving his butt sticking up in the air - hence you have to 'take the wheel'.
3. Your manicure is shot.
4. You will have at least 2 new bruises when you disembark (get off the boat).
5. Slop on loads of sunscreen as you will sweat it off. Then slop on more.
6. Take a bag for sea shells to go in and a large beach towel. If the boat is sans potty, be sure there's a bucket to fill in. You will use all.
7. For entertainment (besides the Captain's butt sticking out while repairing the boat) bring bread, crackers and like bits to feed the gulls. How they hover is delightful and amazing.
8. You'll enjoy wearing your sunglasses and a brimmed hat. Hold on to your hat. Forget about your hair.
9. Wear comfortable clothes and layer up. You know what to do if it's cold or hot.
10. The Captain has rules. You'll have more fun if you know what they are so ask before boarding (getting on the boat). You might prefer to stay on shore if they are stupid (no food allowed and no sunbathing) or too many.
My hope is that you're saved a boat load (no pun intended) of upset and have a head start on a good time on the water. Bon voyage, girlfriend.
What signs do you miss?
White linen covered the table. Three small cakes, forks and napkins were perfectly placed on top. Chef was very official in his white jacket with thermometer in its custom pocket. Admiral, the king of sweets, was delighted to be tasting samples for our wedding cake.
"This is my wedding pound cake, traditional with a delicious icing." Chef said, putting a small slice on plates in front of us. As I tasted the cake, memories of all wedding cake filled my mind.
"What's the next one? I don't like this one. It's sorta dull and bland." Admiral said as he moved the plate aside. Left over cake was the sure sign it wasn't the winner.
"This is my carrot cake. It has extra pecans in it. The icing is cream cheese. Not the traditional cream cheese, it's my special creation. Smokie told me carrot cake was your favorite." Chef said as he slid plated slices of beautiful orangey moist cake before us. Curiously, I tasted it, searching again for flavors Chef described. Admiral ate the first fork full, mumbled about how yummy it was, and woofed down several more bites.
As he put plates with another different slice before us, Chef said "This is the lemon cake brides today like. It's another specialty of mine. The icing is soft and light to compliment the moist cake."
While we ate, Chef and I talked about servings, themes, and costs. Being cost conscious, I said "What can you tell me about cupcakes? I've seen them at weddings."
Admiral replaced the unfinished lemon cake with the remaining carrot cake. Quickly it disappeared as Chef and I talked about more about cupcakes.
"Are you going to eat that?" Admiral asked, pointing at my left-over carrot cake.
"It's all yours." I said, passing the plate to him.
"Chef, from the way Admiral is loving the carrot cake, it's the winner. How does it do in cupcakes?" I asked.
Not realizing that Admiral was paying attention to the discussion, he chimed in "It's a wedding and there should be wedding cake, not cupcakes." Don't you love a man who says his mind!
With another wedding decision made it was time for more research and development to see how well we live together. Honeymoon #3 was beginning. Naples, Florida was the destination where weather was certainly better than RVA.
Play was the agenda. The excursion to Key West by water was on a whale watching boat from Cape Cod. Who knew a tour boat and its crew were snow birds too?
From the boat's arrival in Key West harbor, to chocolate covered frozen Key Lime pie on a stick, to a pedicab ride down Duval St., and Margaritaville, its energy is contagious. The atmosphere is electric, no holds barred on the possible. Scooters, 'steered' by high schoolers on spring break, sped everywhere, adding their constantly blowing horns to the din of Key West.
The return trip to Marco Island was rough, even for a seasoned boater. Both hands holding tightly to stationary objects were barely enough to stay upright for an urgent trip to the loo. Admiral entertained himself doing origami, learned from a first-grade playmate. My attention was on March Madness, interrupted with films of the day's global disaster. Knowing Japan had been destroyed by the tsunami that morning made the whole day's experience seem surreal.
Calmer waters returned and play time was ample in the 'little boat', an 18 foot jet boat. It bobs like a cork in waves and loves to go in circles - at its will.
"OK, you drive today." Admiral said matter-of-factly. With my heart beating in sheer terror, I gasped "Are you sure? I've never driven a boat like this. I ride in it much better." I gasped, trying to be non chalant and hoping he'd get the hint.
"Oh, you can do this. It's easy. Go ahead. Sit here and take the wheel." he replied, pointing to the driver's chair.
Off we went with friend Ray along. The noisy engine drowned my pounding heart and short breathes. We were headed up the Intercoastal Waterway to Naples for lunch, about a nine mile ride. Under my control the little boat went into circles. Efforts on my part to stop it only made more circles.
"What am I doing or not doing!" I hollered to Admiral, who was watching gauges and dials. Ray watched the water to be sure I didn't run aground.
"Oh, it'll straighten out. Don't turn the wheel so fast. You're doing fine. Kick it up a little bit. We have a ways to go yet." he assured me.
As I sped up, we passed boats. "What's up with these boaters putting along? The water's calm and flat. Am I hearing sirens out here? I did see a Coast Guard auxiliary boat." I wondered.
"Slow to idle speed now." the loudspeaker said.
"What in the world is that!" I yelled over our loud engine.
"Smokie, you'd better slow down to idle now. It's the Coast Guard. Did you bring your Drivers License?" Admiral said as officers in life jackets pulled alongside and tied us onto their huge boat.
"Yes sir, I own this boat, Officers. Smokie, look in the box for the registration. We're headed to Naples on this fine sunny afternoon." Admiral said cheerfully, in response to their inquiry about the boat's ownership. "She's driving under my supervision." he added. Thank heavens he said that since I was sans driver's license.
We chatted with the officers while they did the Coast Guard safety inspection of our equipment. Inow they weren't old enough to be in that big boat by themselves. "Didn't you see the slow down signs? You're in a manatee zone, you know."
"Officers, we were chatting and missed them. It won't happen again." Admiral vowed. "How far is it to Naples from here?" he asked as they untied and released our little boat.
With Admiral at the wheel we heard them say "You have about an hour to go yet. Drive slow." as we headed on our way.
Collectively we said, "Whew! that was close. Thank heavens all this required safety stuff was flawless. We were lucky to get off with a warning. Naples, here we come. We need a drink. Ray, forget low water and running aground. Watch for those signs!"
"This is my wedding pound cake, traditional with a delicious icing." Chef said, putting a small slice on plates in front of us. As I tasted the cake, memories of all wedding cake filled my mind.
"What's the next one? I don't like this one. It's sorta dull and bland." Admiral said as he moved the plate aside. Left over cake was the sure sign it wasn't the winner.
"This is my carrot cake. It has extra pecans in it. The icing is cream cheese. Not the traditional cream cheese, it's my special creation. Smokie told me carrot cake was your favorite." Chef said as he slid plated slices of beautiful orangey moist cake before us. Curiously, I tasted it, searching again for flavors Chef described. Admiral ate the first fork full, mumbled about how yummy it was, and woofed down several more bites.
As he put plates with another different slice before us, Chef said "This is the lemon cake brides today like. It's another specialty of mine. The icing is soft and light to compliment the moist cake."
While we ate, Chef and I talked about servings, themes, and costs. Being cost conscious, I said "What can you tell me about cupcakes? I've seen them at weddings."
Admiral replaced the unfinished lemon cake with the remaining carrot cake. Quickly it disappeared as Chef and I talked about more about cupcakes.
"Are you going to eat that?" Admiral asked, pointing at my left-over carrot cake.
"It's all yours." I said, passing the plate to him.
"Chef, from the way Admiral is loving the carrot cake, it's the winner. How does it do in cupcakes?" I asked.
Not realizing that Admiral was paying attention to the discussion, he chimed in "It's a wedding and there should be wedding cake, not cupcakes." Don't you love a man who says his mind!
With another wedding decision made it was time for more research and development to see how well we live together. Honeymoon #3 was beginning. Naples, Florida was the destination where weather was certainly better than RVA.
Play was the agenda. The excursion to Key West by water was on a whale watching boat from Cape Cod. Who knew a tour boat and its crew were snow birds too?
From the boat's arrival in Key West harbor, to chocolate covered frozen Key Lime pie on a stick, to a pedicab ride down Duval St., and Margaritaville, its energy is contagious. The atmosphere is electric, no holds barred on the possible. Scooters, 'steered' by high schoolers on spring break, sped everywhere, adding their constantly blowing horns to the din of Key West.
The return trip to Marco Island was rough, even for a seasoned boater. Both hands holding tightly to stationary objects were barely enough to stay upright for an urgent trip to the loo. Admiral entertained himself doing origami, learned from a first-grade playmate. My attention was on March Madness, interrupted with films of the day's global disaster. Knowing Japan had been destroyed by the tsunami that morning made the whole day's experience seem surreal.
Calmer waters returned and play time was ample in the 'little boat', an 18 foot jet boat. It bobs like a cork in waves and loves to go in circles - at its will.
"OK, you drive today." Admiral said matter-of-factly. With my heart beating in sheer terror, I gasped "Are you sure? I've never driven a boat like this. I ride in it much better." I gasped, trying to be non chalant and hoping he'd get the hint.
"Oh, you can do this. It's easy. Go ahead. Sit here and take the wheel." he replied, pointing to the driver's chair.
Off we went with friend Ray along. The noisy engine drowned my pounding heart and short breathes. We were headed up the Intercoastal Waterway to Naples for lunch, about a nine mile ride. Under my control the little boat went into circles. Efforts on my part to stop it only made more circles.
"What am I doing or not doing!" I hollered to Admiral, who was watching gauges and dials. Ray watched the water to be sure I didn't run aground.
"Oh, it'll straighten out. Don't turn the wheel so fast. You're doing fine. Kick it up a little bit. We have a ways to go yet." he assured me.
As I sped up, we passed boats. "What's up with these boaters putting along? The water's calm and flat. Am I hearing sirens out here? I did see a Coast Guard auxiliary boat." I wondered.
"Slow to idle speed now." the loudspeaker said.
"What in the world is that!" I yelled over our loud engine.
"Smokie, you'd better slow down to idle now. It's the Coast Guard. Did you bring your Drivers License?" Admiral said as officers in life jackets pulled alongside and tied us onto their huge boat.
"Yes sir, I own this boat, Officers. Smokie, look in the box for the registration. We're headed to Naples on this fine sunny afternoon." Admiral said cheerfully, in response to their inquiry about the boat's ownership. "She's driving under my supervision." he added. Thank heavens he said that since I was sans driver's license.
We chatted with the officers while they did the Coast Guard safety inspection of our equipment. Inow they weren't old enough to be in that big boat by themselves. "Didn't you see the slow down signs? You're in a manatee zone, you know."
"Officers, we were chatting and missed them. It won't happen again." Admiral vowed. "How far is it to Naples from here?" he asked as they untied and released our little boat.
With Admiral at the wheel we heard them say "You have about an hour to go yet. Drive slow." as we headed on our way.
Collectively we said, "Whew! that was close. Thank heavens all this required safety stuff was flawless. We were lucky to get off with a warning. Naples, here we come. We need a drink. Ray, forget low water and running aground. Watch for those signs!"
How do you get it all done?
"What fun it'll be. Cruising to Nantucket and back on your boat! I'm not going anywhere 'til Miss V, grandchild #2, arrives in late May, maybe. Babies come when they come and her mom was 2 weeks late." I declared to Admiral, who was setting a mid June departure date.
It was early February. Summer was coming, going and then it's wedding day. Just thinking about all the to-dos made me weak. Not enjoying planning, time had come to cast aside any ideas that things would magically happen on their own. Spontaneity wouldn't make this stuff happen. I had to pull up my big girl panties and plan. Simply plan to move, redo my house, find a tenant to rent it, go on four more honeymoons, take care of clients, and handle endless wedding details.
With pen, calendar and paper, I camped out at a Starbuck's not visited before. I knew too many people to be at my regular one.
My caffeine level rose as lists got longer. Smoke came from my pen as details to accomplish filled the 'Get 'Er Done' pages covering the next seven months. "Lordy, this is huge like an elephant. How'm I going to do all this?! I'm overwhelmed. And it will get done without killing me." I declared to no one as I stuffed dozens of papers into my notebook. That notebook, vinyl covered with pretty flowers and stripes in all my fave colors, was the sacred notebook, travelling with me everywhere. Each list was like Santa's - checked twice daily. So much for spontaneity.
My new life with Admiral was the time to let go of stuff that had served me well. Carefully I selected the pieces to move. The rest would stay to provide a lovely home for the next resident at 509H.
Admiral's quite the delegator, as you've guessed. At his instruction I was to make his big, beautiful RVA house our home. Little did I know unloading his Florida house was good practice for unloading this one, as it was chock full of furniture and all stuff that fills up houses.
"Admiral, you said some furniture needs to go." I began, going on to tell my plan to clear out the excess and make room for my five additions and a new look.
"Sounds great. Just leave my garage alone." he said.
With a big roll of blue painter's tape, I went room to room, marking clearly with a tape piece what I thought should go.
An hour later, Admiral and I toured each room. I pointed out each blue taped item. "Hm, that's always been here. Don't know where that came from. I've always liked that. Yea, I'm glad that's going." were some of his remarks, delighting me that he agreed with 99% of my choices.
Then he got quiet. Seriously he said "I don't have any blue tape on me, do I?"
It was early February. Summer was coming, going and then it's wedding day. Just thinking about all the to-dos made me weak. Not enjoying planning, time had come to cast aside any ideas that things would magically happen on their own. Spontaneity wouldn't make this stuff happen. I had to pull up my big girl panties and plan. Simply plan to move, redo my house, find a tenant to rent it, go on four more honeymoons, take care of clients, and handle endless wedding details.
With pen, calendar and paper, I camped out at a Starbuck's not visited before. I knew too many people to be at my regular one.
My caffeine level rose as lists got longer. Smoke came from my pen as details to accomplish filled the 'Get 'Er Done' pages covering the next seven months. "Lordy, this is huge like an elephant. How'm I going to do all this?! I'm overwhelmed. And it will get done without killing me." I declared to no one as I stuffed dozens of papers into my notebook. That notebook, vinyl covered with pretty flowers and stripes in all my fave colors, was the sacred notebook, travelling with me everywhere. Each list was like Santa's - checked twice daily. So much for spontaneity.
My new life with Admiral was the time to let go of stuff that had served me well. Carefully I selected the pieces to move. The rest would stay to provide a lovely home for the next resident at 509H.
Admiral's quite the delegator, as you've guessed. At his instruction I was to make his big, beautiful RVA house our home. Little did I know unloading his Florida house was good practice for unloading this one, as it was chock full of furniture and all stuff that fills up houses.
"Admiral, you said some furniture needs to go." I began, going on to tell my plan to clear out the excess and make room for my five additions and a new look.
"Sounds great. Just leave my garage alone." he said.
With a big roll of blue painter's tape, I went room to room, marking clearly with a tape piece what I thought should go.
An hour later, Admiral and I toured each room. I pointed out each blue taped item. "Hm, that's always been here. Don't know where that came from. I've always liked that. Yea, I'm glad that's going." were some of his remarks, delighting me that he agreed with 99% of my choices.
Then he got quiet. Seriously he said "I don't have any blue tape on me, do I?"
Is this how you do business?
Wedding plans weighed heavily on me. Honeymoon #1 ended adn real life began again when the plane touched down in RVA on the January afternoon cloaked in winter dull. Admiral and I had passed the first of what would be many trials at life together with flying colors.
Flowers were the next item to line up on the wedding to-do check list. There were names of three florists who did over-the-top statement floral work. I looked forward to seeing their shops, the lovely flowers, planning the bouquets and getting to know them. And so it was that on the coldest Monday morning in early February I popped into the premier florist shop.
Christmas decor was coming down, replaced by Valentine's red and pink. In the tiny store boxes and dust were everywhere, giving no room for the exquisite display I was expecting. While a designer put flowers in a vase, a man worked on a card table amongst piles of things that almost buried him.
I asked "Do you do wedding flowers?"
He looked up, put some papers in a stack, looked over his glasses at me and said "Yes, we do. We do the important big name weddings in town."
"I'm at the right place. Bouquets and all wedding flowers are on my mind. You were recommended by several people. I know vaguely what I want and there's plenty of room for your creativity and style to explode. The wedding is September 10. Are there some pictures of work you've done that I can see?" I asked.
Looking annoyed and moving papers on his table, he hollered "Hey, Jim, where's that photo album with the bouquets in it? It's around here somewhere."
Jim said "Maybe it's in the cabinet. I haven't seen it in ages. I have to finish putting these ornaments away now."
"I don't have time to look for it now. Honey, your wedding is so far away. Come back in April or May to talk about this." the man said, his voice dripping with annoyance, his look saying "I am so done with you."
"My calendar's in the car. I'll go get it and we can set an appointment. I'm travelling a lot and want to be sure we talk." I replied.
"Oh, honey, call in May to set it up." he said emphatically. Irritation oozed from his voice and face.
"That's how you do business?" I asked.
"Honey, call back in May." he said as he returned to his cluttered table.
I left the disheveled and dirty store thinking "Now that's customer service. That's a phone call I won't make. "
A week later, I went to florist #2 on my list. The shop was spacious, orderly and oddly quiet. "Hello. Anyone home?" I hollered, admiring the delightful arrangements.
From the back a voice said "I'm coming. I'm putting the last flower in this vase." An attractive man appeared. "Hi there. Thanks for waiting. How can I help you?"he said.
"I have a 1 o'clock appointment with Randy to talk about wedding flowers." I answered.
"Randy isn't here. He's making deliveries and can't be reached." he said.
Surprised I said "I talked to him weeks ago and he set this time and he's not here?!" I thought "It's been a long time since I was stood up. Everyone has cell phones and he's not reachable. That's one heck of a delivery he's on!"
The phone rang a week later. The man said "Hi. It's Randy. I called to reschedule our appointment to talk about your flowers. "
"Randy, honestly I was really surprised you weren't there. We'd set the appointment at your convenience! It's taken seven days to call me" I said.
"I can explain." he said, sharing details causing his absence.
I replied "I don't trust you to handle my wedding flowers. I don't know they'd get to the church on time. No one called to cancel the date. You've shone me your customer service and it's not for me. Thank you for your call today."
I wondered "If top two florists do business like this, what's the third one like?"
Flowers were the next item to line up on the wedding to-do check list. There were names of three florists who did over-the-top statement floral work. I looked forward to seeing their shops, the lovely flowers, planning the bouquets and getting to know them. And so it was that on the coldest Monday morning in early February I popped into the premier florist shop.
Christmas decor was coming down, replaced by Valentine's red and pink. In the tiny store boxes and dust were everywhere, giving no room for the exquisite display I was expecting. While a designer put flowers in a vase, a man worked on a card table amongst piles of things that almost buried him.
I asked "Do you do wedding flowers?"
He looked up, put some papers in a stack, looked over his glasses at me and said "Yes, we do. We do the important big name weddings in town."
"I'm at the right place. Bouquets and all wedding flowers are on my mind. You were recommended by several people. I know vaguely what I want and there's plenty of room for your creativity and style to explode. The wedding is September 10. Are there some pictures of work you've done that I can see?" I asked.
Looking annoyed and moving papers on his table, he hollered "Hey, Jim, where's that photo album with the bouquets in it? It's around here somewhere."
Jim said "Maybe it's in the cabinet. I haven't seen it in ages. I have to finish putting these ornaments away now."
"I don't have time to look for it now. Honey, your wedding is so far away. Come back in April or May to talk about this." the man said, his voice dripping with annoyance, his look saying "I am so done with you."
"My calendar's in the car. I'll go get it and we can set an appointment. I'm travelling a lot and want to be sure we talk." I replied.
"Oh, honey, call in May to set it up." he said emphatically. Irritation oozed from his voice and face.
"That's how you do business?" I asked.
"Honey, call back in May." he said as he returned to his cluttered table.
I left the disheveled and dirty store thinking "Now that's customer service. That's a phone call I won't make. "
A week later, I went to florist #2 on my list. The shop was spacious, orderly and oddly quiet. "Hello. Anyone home?" I hollered, admiring the delightful arrangements.
From the back a voice said "I'm coming. I'm putting the last flower in this vase." An attractive man appeared. "Hi there. Thanks for waiting. How can I help you?"he said.
"I have a 1 o'clock appointment with Randy to talk about wedding flowers." I answered.
"Randy isn't here. He's making deliveries and can't be reached." he said.
Surprised I said "I talked to him weeks ago and he set this time and he's not here?!" I thought "It's been a long time since I was stood up. Everyone has cell phones and he's not reachable. That's one heck of a delivery he's on!"
The phone rang a week later. The man said "Hi. It's Randy. I called to reschedule our appointment to talk about your flowers. "
"Randy, honestly I was really surprised you weren't there. We'd set the appointment at your convenience! It's taken seven days to call me" I said.
"I can explain." he said, sharing details causing his absence.
I replied "I don't trust you to handle my wedding flowers. I don't know they'd get to the church on time. No one called to cancel the date. You've shone me your customer service and it's not for me. Thank you for your call today."
I wondered "If top two florists do business like this, what's the third one like?"
Is timing really everything?
"Class, we're ending at 4 promptly today so if you want to ask questions, ask before 4. The airline made an agreement with me that the plane would leave, whether I was there or not. Perhaps you've had the same arrangement?" I told my students. I was headed to Florida, the first trip there with Admiral.
Plans had been made since Christmas for this January trip. "People today live and travel together all the time. We're engaged and don't know if we can live together. Let's go to Florida and practice living together." Admiral had said one cold December night. "Look at your calendar and see when you can get away. Arrange it anyway you can. Don't worry about the logistics. My team will get you to and from the airport whenever you need. Pack your suitcase and I'll take it with me when I drive down in January." he continued.
Not one to turn down a trip, I found several two week increments for winter play in Florida. That meant work focused and hard for two weeks at home to have play time. "Let's call it honeymooning. We're practicing this honeymoon stuff til we get it right. At our age it may take a long time since it's hard to teach old dogs new tricks." Admiral said, his eyes twinkling.
When the plane touched down in Ft. Lauderdale, my heart raced. In a few minutes I'd be with my guy, ending a week apart. I hoped I had the right clothes. We had talked frequently, he filling me in on what he was doing in his FL house to get it ready for me. Cleaning was the major project as the house had been closed up since April. While he talked about all the cleaning he was doing, I was recalling cleaning my granny's summer cottage on the rivah bank from the winter's closing. There were snake skins on the mantle, mouse nests in drawers and cabinets and more woodland critters' abandoned homes decorating the loosely secured cottage.
Knowing he is fastidious about his toys' cleanliness, I wasn't surprised about his activities. Thankfully he found time to get the 'little boat' in the water.
The ride from Ft. Lauderdale to Naples was long under the clear starry sky. Because it was midnight it seemed endless. And I was exhausted from a full work day and long travel. The adrenalin had run out. What a way to start a honeymoon.
At last he parked in the drive way, a cozy area surrounded by tall building, lush greenery, palm trees and orange, red and hot pink flowers blooming in the warm night air. A shell wreath welcomed me at the door.
"Welcome to our home and playground." Admiral said as we stood in the light airy foyer. "Let the honeymoon continue."
"And here's the dining room." he said, pointing to a table at one end of a large room, piled high with all things put away in cabinets for years. My heart sank. "I told you I'd been cleaning out. I didn't know all this stuff was packed away. I've pulled everything out of everywhere. You go through it and keep what you want and think you can use. The rest of it we'll get rid of." he stated matter of factly. Now I was overwhelmed. I'd never seen such a pile of stuff, not one bit different from what was stashed around my house.
Fatigue took over. The tour ended when I said "I'm worn out. I can't go another minute."
The next day that mountain was still there. I had no clue what to do. I thought I was here to play and this was not my idea of play. I went through every closet, cabinet and drawer to see what was left and useful. More things I added to the pile, praying the table wouldn't collapse.
"Admiral, come here. I'm not believing this." I hollered from the kitchen, looking at a complete set of Wedgewood Potpourri china. "These dishes were my wedding china! I didn't like them when I picked them out and I still don't like 'em."
"I don't like them either. Get rid of them." he said to my delight.
Boat rides, outings and get-away trips to Walmart were escapes from the daunting pile, whose disappearance had become my responsibility. "Let's get boxes at the grocery, fill them up and give it to Goodwill." I said.
Admiral agreed, 'Yea, this stuff needs to get outta here."
"It'll take us 5 trips to take this stuff away so get ready. We can do it in a morning." I said as cheerfully as I could.
"Hey, lots of this stuff belonged to my late wife and her brother lives 5 minutes away. Maybe he'll want it and see that her brothers and sisters get it." he said.
Several days later, Brother came, delighted to get so many of his late sister's belongings. After a grand visit with the delightful man, the table was clear when he left. I know I heard it breathe a sigh of relief with Admiral and me.
At last it was playtime. While walking on a white, sandy beach Admiral said "I've ordered your engagement ring. I designed it myself. I told you I'd do something different from the little ring you're wearing." Knowing how this engineer over-engineers things, my imagination went wild. "I hope there's some sparkle in it." I thought.
"If you don't like it, it can be changed." he continued. "Whew, thank heavens for that." I thought again.
Finally we were around long enough for a neighbor to visit. Curious about all the activity in the usually quiet house, Hawkeye was all eyes and comments in the short tour to see what had changed in the house. As we chatted in the kitchen, she asked how we met, how family was taking it, what plans there were for his Florida house. Eventually we learned more about each others' work and delight in free time to winter in such a lovely place. She asked, "If you've been single for 19 years, why are you marrying Admiral now?"
" Because he's the right man and I'm crazy about him." I answered emphatically. Admiral appeared around the corner and joined us, ending Hawkeye's inquisition.
After she left, I told Admiral about her relentless questions, especially asking why I accepted his proposal.
He replied " Oh, she was a best girlfriend to my late wife."
Plans had been made since Christmas for this January trip. "People today live and travel together all the time. We're engaged and don't know if we can live together. Let's go to Florida and practice living together." Admiral had said one cold December night. "Look at your calendar and see when you can get away. Arrange it anyway you can. Don't worry about the logistics. My team will get you to and from the airport whenever you need. Pack your suitcase and I'll take it with me when I drive down in January." he continued.
Not one to turn down a trip, I found several two week increments for winter play in Florida. That meant work focused and hard for two weeks at home to have play time. "Let's call it honeymooning. We're practicing this honeymoon stuff til we get it right. At our age it may take a long time since it's hard to teach old dogs new tricks." Admiral said, his eyes twinkling.
When the plane touched down in Ft. Lauderdale, my heart raced. In a few minutes I'd be with my guy, ending a week apart. I hoped I had the right clothes. We had talked frequently, he filling me in on what he was doing in his FL house to get it ready for me. Cleaning was the major project as the house had been closed up since April. While he talked about all the cleaning he was doing, I was recalling cleaning my granny's summer cottage on the rivah bank from the winter's closing. There were snake skins on the mantle, mouse nests in drawers and cabinets and more woodland critters' abandoned homes decorating the loosely secured cottage.
Knowing he is fastidious about his toys' cleanliness, I wasn't surprised about his activities. Thankfully he found time to get the 'little boat' in the water.
The ride from Ft. Lauderdale to Naples was long under the clear starry sky. Because it was midnight it seemed endless. And I was exhausted from a full work day and long travel. The adrenalin had run out. What a way to start a honeymoon.
At last he parked in the drive way, a cozy area surrounded by tall building, lush greenery, palm trees and orange, red and hot pink flowers blooming in the warm night air. A shell wreath welcomed me at the door.
"Welcome to our home and playground." Admiral said as we stood in the light airy foyer. "Let the honeymoon continue."
"And here's the dining room." he said, pointing to a table at one end of a large room, piled high with all things put away in cabinets for years. My heart sank. "I told you I'd been cleaning out. I didn't know all this stuff was packed away. I've pulled everything out of everywhere. You go through it and keep what you want and think you can use. The rest of it we'll get rid of." he stated matter of factly. Now I was overwhelmed. I'd never seen such a pile of stuff, not one bit different from what was stashed around my house.
Fatigue took over. The tour ended when I said "I'm worn out. I can't go another minute."
The next day that mountain was still there. I had no clue what to do. I thought I was here to play and this was not my idea of play. I went through every closet, cabinet and drawer to see what was left and useful. More things I added to the pile, praying the table wouldn't collapse.
"Admiral, come here. I'm not believing this." I hollered from the kitchen, looking at a complete set of Wedgewood Potpourri china. "These dishes were my wedding china! I didn't like them when I picked them out and I still don't like 'em."
"I don't like them either. Get rid of them." he said to my delight.
Boat rides, outings and get-away trips to Walmart were escapes from the daunting pile, whose disappearance had become my responsibility. "Let's get boxes at the grocery, fill them up and give it to Goodwill." I said.
Admiral agreed, 'Yea, this stuff needs to get outta here."
"It'll take us 5 trips to take this stuff away so get ready. We can do it in a morning." I said as cheerfully as I could.
"Hey, lots of this stuff belonged to my late wife and her brother lives 5 minutes away. Maybe he'll want it and see that her brothers and sisters get it." he said.
Several days later, Brother came, delighted to get so many of his late sister's belongings. After a grand visit with the delightful man, the table was clear when he left. I know I heard it breathe a sigh of relief with Admiral and me.
At last it was playtime. While walking on a white, sandy beach Admiral said "I've ordered your engagement ring. I designed it myself. I told you I'd do something different from the little ring you're wearing." Knowing how this engineer over-engineers things, my imagination went wild. "I hope there's some sparkle in it." I thought.
"If you don't like it, it can be changed." he continued. "Whew, thank heavens for that." I thought again.
Finally we were around long enough for a neighbor to visit. Curious about all the activity in the usually quiet house, Hawkeye was all eyes and comments in the short tour to see what had changed in the house. As we chatted in the kitchen, she asked how we met, how family was taking it, what plans there were for his Florida house. Eventually we learned more about each others' work and delight in free time to winter in such a lovely place. She asked, "If you've been single for 19 years, why are you marrying Admiral now?"
" Because he's the right man and I'm crazy about him." I answered emphatically. Admiral appeared around the corner and joined us, ending Hawkeye's inquisition.
After she left, I told Admiral about her relentless questions, especially asking why I accepted his proposal.
He replied " Oh, she was a best girlfriend to my late wife."
How do you move an airplane?
The table was ready. Getting put out was the cat’s reward for shamelessly chowing down at the shrimp bowl. Admiral was glowing as friends arrived to celebrate his birthday.
“Hey, what’re you doing in town now, man? Usually you’re outta here when snow’s on the ground.” “Did you lose your mind when you met Smokie and forget that it’s cold here?” “I’m glad to meet this gal you’ve mentioned. I was wondering about her.” were some friend’s comments. They know how Admiral hates cold to the point the first snow flake sends him packing to warmer climates.
As we partied, Admiral announced “Guys, I need your help in the garage. I built this trailer to haul my airplane to the warehouse for the winter. Give me a hand to get the scrap wood on top of it.” Guys and wives piled into the garage, wowed by its order, cleanliness and bright blue sparkly floor.
“Hey, man! What’s with this glitzy garage?” “You’ve got a show place here.” “I don’t think Smokie’s going to allow you to spill oil on the floor and rebuild motors in here.” Admiral’s long time friends exclaimed. Setting their refreshments down, they lifted, heaved and hefted the wooden mess onto the trailer.
“Thanks, guys, for your help. Get another drink and eat some more. “ Admiral said as he admired the order returned to the garage, his most sacred territory.
“OK. Let’s gather around.” Admiral told guests later. “I want you to meet Smokie. She knows most of you and will soon know the rest of you. I’m delighted to say we’re getting married. No date yet. You’ll be the first to know after we do. “ He continued “ You’re wondering why I’m here in this dreadful cold snow. I’ve been getting treatments everyday and I couldn’t go anywhere til they’re over. I’m happy to say the last one is tomorrow. I’m not sure the machine is turned on as I’ve had no adverse effects. There is much to celebrate for all of us because we can stand up, drive, and think we’re in our right minds.” Agreeing, everyone cheered heartily, raising a toast to health and happiness.
A few days later as Admiral collected things for warm sunshine in Florida, we discussed a wedding date. “It takes time to plan a wedding, no matter the size. So let’s set the date and get the church and reception place booked. Then I know what we have to do and when.” I suggested.
“Good idea. Time can get away from us. Summer’s too bloody hot and we want to cruise up to Nantucket on the boat. Then it’s fall and I don’t want anyone on the road on Labor Day weekend.” he said.
As I got the calendar with our travel dates on it, I asked “What’s your favorite month?” “September.” he replied.
Looking at the calendar I exclaimed “ Gee, September's busy. Look at this! There are 2 weeks here in September open, beginning the weekend after Labor Day. What do you think?” I asked.
Surprised he said “Let me see that calendar.” Looking at it he grinned and said “Hey, 9-10-11 it is! Who’d’ve thought! That’s easy to remember.”
The church and reception were booked for September 10. Now there was serious planning to do.
I was clueless about today’s wedding customs. What better way to get the skinny on what to do and how and know questions to ask the experts.
So several days later we were at the Wedding Expo, a showcase of vendors that had even a slight hint of wedding in their services. Name tags labeled us Bride and Groom. Looking more like grandparents, we wandered the aisles with other Brides, Grooms and friends who didn’t look old enough to be driving. Attire ran the gamut: jeans, professional dress, and over the top tattoos displayed from too revealing clothing.
The music blared current love songs. “I can’t stand talking over loud music. You think some background music might be here?” Admiral asked.
Admiral was a trooper. He experienced a Freeze Frame booth for the first time, totally curious about how it all worked. While I talked to vendors, he stood, looking shell-shocked at the pregnant brides followed by pimply faced boys.
One event planner drew us in with casual conversation. “I see you’re the Bride and Groom. How nice. Have you set your date?” she solicited, her expression saying ‘Are you real?’
Admiral answered proudly “Oh, yes. Nine ten eleven.”
She continued “That’s very soon. “
Admiral quipped “At our age we can’t tarry. We’ve set the church and reception, too.”
“And where are they?” she asked, ready to close the deal.
“We’re getting married at St. James’s Episcopal Church followed by the reception at the Country Club of Virginia.” he stated.
She replied “Well, aren’t you the King and Queen!”
“Hey, what’re you doing in town now, man? Usually you’re outta here when snow’s on the ground.” “Did you lose your mind when you met Smokie and forget that it’s cold here?” “I’m glad to meet this gal you’ve mentioned. I was wondering about her.” were some friend’s comments. They know how Admiral hates cold to the point the first snow flake sends him packing to warmer climates.
As we partied, Admiral announced “Guys, I need your help in the garage. I built this trailer to haul my airplane to the warehouse for the winter. Give me a hand to get the scrap wood on top of it.” Guys and wives piled into the garage, wowed by its order, cleanliness and bright blue sparkly floor.
“Hey, man! What’s with this glitzy garage?” “You’ve got a show place here.” “I don’t think Smokie’s going to allow you to spill oil on the floor and rebuild motors in here.” Admiral’s long time friends exclaimed. Setting their refreshments down, they lifted, heaved and hefted the wooden mess onto the trailer.
“Thanks, guys, for your help. Get another drink and eat some more. “ Admiral said as he admired the order returned to the garage, his most sacred territory.
“OK. Let’s gather around.” Admiral told guests later. “I want you to meet Smokie. She knows most of you and will soon know the rest of you. I’m delighted to say we’re getting married. No date yet. You’ll be the first to know after we do. “ He continued “ You’re wondering why I’m here in this dreadful cold snow. I’ve been getting treatments everyday and I couldn’t go anywhere til they’re over. I’m happy to say the last one is tomorrow. I’m not sure the machine is turned on as I’ve had no adverse effects. There is much to celebrate for all of us because we can stand up, drive, and think we’re in our right minds.” Agreeing, everyone cheered heartily, raising a toast to health and happiness.
A few days later as Admiral collected things for warm sunshine in Florida, we discussed a wedding date. “It takes time to plan a wedding, no matter the size. So let’s set the date and get the church and reception place booked. Then I know what we have to do and when.” I suggested.
“Good idea. Time can get away from us. Summer’s too bloody hot and we want to cruise up to Nantucket on the boat. Then it’s fall and I don’t want anyone on the road on Labor Day weekend.” he said.
As I got the calendar with our travel dates on it, I asked “What’s your favorite month?” “September.” he replied.
Looking at the calendar I exclaimed “ Gee, September's busy. Look at this! There are 2 weeks here in September open, beginning the weekend after Labor Day. What do you think?” I asked.
Surprised he said “Let me see that calendar.” Looking at it he grinned and said “Hey, 9-10-11 it is! Who’d’ve thought! That’s easy to remember.”
The church and reception were booked for September 10. Now there was serious planning to do.
I was clueless about today’s wedding customs. What better way to get the skinny on what to do and how and know questions to ask the experts.
So several days later we were at the Wedding Expo, a showcase of vendors that had even a slight hint of wedding in their services. Name tags labeled us Bride and Groom. Looking more like grandparents, we wandered the aisles with other Brides, Grooms and friends who didn’t look old enough to be driving. Attire ran the gamut: jeans, professional dress, and over the top tattoos displayed from too revealing clothing.
The music blared current love songs. “I can’t stand talking over loud music. You think some background music might be here?” Admiral asked.
Admiral was a trooper. He experienced a Freeze Frame booth for the first time, totally curious about how it all worked. While I talked to vendors, he stood, looking shell-shocked at the pregnant brides followed by pimply faced boys.
One event planner drew us in with casual conversation. “I see you’re the Bride and Groom. How nice. Have you set your date?” she solicited, her expression saying ‘Are you real?’
Admiral answered proudly “Oh, yes. Nine ten eleven.”
She continued “That’s very soon. “
Admiral quipped “At our age we can’t tarry. We’ve set the church and reception, too.”
“And where are they?” she asked, ready to close the deal.
“We’re getting married at St. James’s Episcopal Church followed by the reception at the Country Club of Virginia.” he stated.
She replied “Well, aren’t you the King and Queen!”
What happened to all the snacks?
The church goers greeted us warmly after we heard why Santa do what Santa do. “Y’all come back’” each said, moving on as their curiosity was satisfied.
The Porters, who befriended Admiral during his college days, were there and very welcoming since their last visit years ago. As we followed them up the long winding drive to their home, Admiral said "It's the same house I remembered 50 years ago." Tales of family, friends, funerals and weddings filled the air. Fortunately the chatter was louder than my tummy, roaring to say “feed me.”
Mid afternoon, following the Porters, we took off for lunch about 30 miles down the road in the next town. I did say we were at 40 and plum, didn't I? That's for 40 miles out and plum in the sticks. Enroute Admiral and I searched the car for snacks, only to recall we polished them off yesterday.
Our eyes danced at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Extreme will power and a rational head prevailed to select bits of yummy faves, totally satisfying any hunger pangs that may think about stirring.
All I can say about the drive back to RVA was it was long. "Where did all the traffic come from? Why do they clog up the road I'm on?" I wondered while Admiral napped as I drove.
Christmas plans came, went and made for a fun, very social holiday. At parties we met each other's friends. Admiral was amazed I knew some of his friends. Did he know I went out with one of them? He wondered whom I didn’t know.
There is no place better to end a year or begin a new one than the Hope & Glory Inn in Irvington. The handsomely designed cottages, clever gardens (even in the bleak winter) and delightful lobby with fascinating guests provided stimulating conversations, connecting with ole acquaintances. We had such fun that time slipped away, making us very late meeting wonderful friends for dinner and ringing in the new year.
All too soon the clock struck midnight. Welcome 2011. What would it be like?
The Porters, who befriended Admiral during his college days, were there and very welcoming since their last visit years ago. As we followed them up the long winding drive to their home, Admiral said "It's the same house I remembered 50 years ago." Tales of family, friends, funerals and weddings filled the air. Fortunately the chatter was louder than my tummy, roaring to say “feed me.”
Mid afternoon, following the Porters, we took off for lunch about 30 miles down the road in the next town. I did say we were at 40 and plum, didn't I? That's for 40 miles out and plum in the sticks. Enroute Admiral and I searched the car for snacks, only to recall we polished them off yesterday.
Our eyes danced at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Extreme will power and a rational head prevailed to select bits of yummy faves, totally satisfying any hunger pangs that may think about stirring.
All I can say about the drive back to RVA was it was long. "Where did all the traffic come from? Why do they clog up the road I'm on?" I wondered while Admiral napped as I drove.
Christmas plans came, went and made for a fun, very social holiday. At parties we met each other's friends. Admiral was amazed I knew some of his friends. Did he know I went out with one of them? He wondered whom I didn’t know.
There is no place better to end a year or begin a new one than the Hope & Glory Inn in Irvington. The handsomely designed cottages, clever gardens (even in the bleak winter) and delightful lobby with fascinating guests provided stimulating conversations, connecting with ole acquaintances. We had such fun that time slipped away, making us very late meeting wonderful friends for dinner and ringing in the new year.
All too soon the clock struck midnight. Welcome 2011. What would it be like?
When did you get on the wrong bus?
The day after Thanksgiving we were on the road, again. We were taking advantage of two days off from treatments for a holiday.
With half of his treatments completed, Admiral said “I don’t think the machine is turned on. I don’t feel anything. I don’t have any reactions. I guess it’s working. We’ll find out when it’s over, I reckon. I haven’t seen Dr. Roundface since our first visit. I did meet her associate last week. He seems very young. He’s alright since he’s interested in flying.”
The weekend was the big game in Blacksburg between Virginia and Virginia Tech, Admiral’s alma mater. He had planned the trip, keeping details a secret to surprise me as they unfolded. That’s a smart man who knows I love surprises!
On the way we stopped at Auntie Anne’s, my BFF since kindergarten, for a short visit. As we left, she whispered to me “ He’s a keeper. I know something’s up. Don’t let him get away. ”
The trip to Blacksburg was quick, with memories of taking my daughter there years ago. Admiral told tales of his life with his Model A and various roomies during his 4 years.
Tech’s Virginia Inn was comfy, the lobby filled with decorated Christmas trees, reminding us that Christmas was on the horizon. The fire in the lobby’s fireplace was toasty and where we and guests stayed for the greater part of the evening, warming ourselves and chatting about the trip there and tomorrow’s game.
Game day was clear, bright and windy, as only it can be in Blacksburg. Spotting a bus in front of the hotel, we climbed aboard. Everyone wore big important looking badges. As we talked to the passengers, we found out we were on the bus for the Board of Visitors, there for a big deal meeting and to enjoy the game! Of course, the bus ride was fast to Lane Stadium, with all traffic stopped for quick turns and easy access right to the main entrance!
Eventually we found the Engineering sky box on the top floor. It was packed with people of all ages and styles of warm dress. Snacks were plentiful and filling. The game was exciting. The more touchdowns we scored against Miami, the better we liked it and the more we cheered, making strangers more comfortable with each other. A final score of 31 – 17 was splendid, inducing high fives among the crowd.
Fans leaving the stadium always look like how I imagine immigrants looked landing on Ellis Island. We were two of thousands streaming to the parking lots. At the main gate the only sight of a bus was its back end roaring off into the distance. Soon we lucked into a classmate’s tail gate party where we warmed up with a toddy and ham biscuit with classmates and more school day stories. It's a wonder any of them made it to class, let alone to graduation and successful careers.
We said so long and walked uphill to the main road where city buses lined a distant curb. Admiral walked up to a policeman and asked for directions to get back to the Inn. I wasn’t believing this - a man asking directions!
“I forgot what the guy said. Let’s get on this bus. The driver will tell us how to get to the hotel.” Admiral said as we boarded a bus, trusting it was going our way.
Sure enough, when we got off where the driver directed us, the hotel was visible. The driver said it was 2 blocks, looking more like 20 miles to us. We walked fast into the raw wind, Admiral pulling me along to keep pace with his rapid steps. At the hotel, I beat him to the fire.
Admiral’s 4-year college career was varied. He played in the Highty Tighties, managed and played bass in his bluegrass band, and played other musical gigs anywhere he could get paid. The stories of events entertained me for hours. Relationships made then he continues to this day with visits and chats when he’s in the area.
The next day was clear, without wind. Off we went on an adventure to visit places and people Admiral knew during his gigs years ago. “I’m taking you to church today.” he said as we left the hotel. “I can find the little country church, I’m sure. Things don’t change much in the boondocks.” he added.
A twisting road at 40 and plum (40 miles out and plum in the sticks) ended at Mountain Lake Hotel, where the movie Dirty Dancing was filmed. Admiral rolled in laughter as he relived leaving a gig there.
It was dark and cold. The car was full of guys and instruments, with the bass tied to the front of the car, obstructing his view as he drove down the curving mountain road through snow. He said “I never told Mom about these things. Guess I didn’t tie the bass on very well because it fell off. We looked over the side of the road and never found it.”
“Oh, oh. It’s time for church. Let’s roll.” he hollered as he ran out the door of the resort to the car. I could see him driving that old Model A down that mountain road while he ran it too fast for my comfort. Finally he stopped at a church. It was a typical country church – white, steeple with cross on top, pointed front doors, a few large windows and several cars parked on the lawn around it. Yet it was no ordinary church. It was the one that Admiral had gone to when the Porters befriended him in the last century.
The service was underway when we entered, seeing 25 mostly elderly people scattered about the small room. As heads turned to see who the late arrivals were, we settled on the back row to be unobtrusive.
To the right of the chancel a large screen and the latest projector were suspended from the ceiling. “Hum, the preacher looks to be about 35ish and I guess he’s tech savvy. There’s some high powered tech stuff here. Wonder if he’ll use powerpoint for his sermon. ” I thought.
While I was unwrapping my layers of warm outer wear, I heard Admiral snicker under his breath. He poked me and pointed at the screen. In giant letters were WHY DO SANTA DO WHAT SANTA DO?
With half of his treatments completed, Admiral said “I don’t think the machine is turned on. I don’t feel anything. I don’t have any reactions. I guess it’s working. We’ll find out when it’s over, I reckon. I haven’t seen Dr. Roundface since our first visit. I did meet her associate last week. He seems very young. He’s alright since he’s interested in flying.”
The weekend was the big game in Blacksburg between Virginia and Virginia Tech, Admiral’s alma mater. He had planned the trip, keeping details a secret to surprise me as they unfolded. That’s a smart man who knows I love surprises!
On the way we stopped at Auntie Anne’s, my BFF since kindergarten, for a short visit. As we left, she whispered to me “ He’s a keeper. I know something’s up. Don’t let him get away. ”
The trip to Blacksburg was quick, with memories of taking my daughter there years ago. Admiral told tales of his life with his Model A and various roomies during his 4 years.
Tech’s Virginia Inn was comfy, the lobby filled with decorated Christmas trees, reminding us that Christmas was on the horizon. The fire in the lobby’s fireplace was toasty and where we and guests stayed for the greater part of the evening, warming ourselves and chatting about the trip there and tomorrow’s game.
Game day was clear, bright and windy, as only it can be in Blacksburg. Spotting a bus in front of the hotel, we climbed aboard. Everyone wore big important looking badges. As we talked to the passengers, we found out we were on the bus for the Board of Visitors, there for a big deal meeting and to enjoy the game! Of course, the bus ride was fast to Lane Stadium, with all traffic stopped for quick turns and easy access right to the main entrance!
Eventually we found the Engineering sky box on the top floor. It was packed with people of all ages and styles of warm dress. Snacks were plentiful and filling. The game was exciting. The more touchdowns we scored against Miami, the better we liked it and the more we cheered, making strangers more comfortable with each other. A final score of 31 – 17 was splendid, inducing high fives among the crowd.
Fans leaving the stadium always look like how I imagine immigrants looked landing on Ellis Island. We were two of thousands streaming to the parking lots. At the main gate the only sight of a bus was its back end roaring off into the distance. Soon we lucked into a classmate’s tail gate party where we warmed up with a toddy and ham biscuit with classmates and more school day stories. It's a wonder any of them made it to class, let alone to graduation and successful careers.
We said so long and walked uphill to the main road where city buses lined a distant curb. Admiral walked up to a policeman and asked for directions to get back to the Inn. I wasn’t believing this - a man asking directions!
“I forgot what the guy said. Let’s get on this bus. The driver will tell us how to get to the hotel.” Admiral said as we boarded a bus, trusting it was going our way.
Sure enough, when we got off where the driver directed us, the hotel was visible. The driver said it was 2 blocks, looking more like 20 miles to us. We walked fast into the raw wind, Admiral pulling me along to keep pace with his rapid steps. At the hotel, I beat him to the fire.
Admiral’s 4-year college career was varied. He played in the Highty Tighties, managed and played bass in his bluegrass band, and played other musical gigs anywhere he could get paid. The stories of events entertained me for hours. Relationships made then he continues to this day with visits and chats when he’s in the area.
The next day was clear, without wind. Off we went on an adventure to visit places and people Admiral knew during his gigs years ago. “I’m taking you to church today.” he said as we left the hotel. “I can find the little country church, I’m sure. Things don’t change much in the boondocks.” he added.
A twisting road at 40 and plum (40 miles out and plum in the sticks) ended at Mountain Lake Hotel, where the movie Dirty Dancing was filmed. Admiral rolled in laughter as he relived leaving a gig there.
It was dark and cold. The car was full of guys and instruments, with the bass tied to the front of the car, obstructing his view as he drove down the curving mountain road through snow. He said “I never told Mom about these things. Guess I didn’t tie the bass on very well because it fell off. We looked over the side of the road and never found it.”
“Oh, oh. It’s time for church. Let’s roll.” he hollered as he ran out the door of the resort to the car. I could see him driving that old Model A down that mountain road while he ran it too fast for my comfort. Finally he stopped at a church. It was a typical country church – white, steeple with cross on top, pointed front doors, a few large windows and several cars parked on the lawn around it. Yet it was no ordinary church. It was the one that Admiral had gone to when the Porters befriended him in the last century.
The service was underway when we entered, seeing 25 mostly elderly people scattered about the small room. As heads turned to see who the late arrivals were, we settled on the back row to be unobtrusive.
To the right of the chancel a large screen and the latest projector were suspended from the ceiling. “Hum, the preacher looks to be about 35ish and I guess he’s tech savvy. There’s some high powered tech stuff here. Wonder if he’ll use powerpoint for his sermon. ” I thought.
While I was unwrapping my layers of warm outer wear, I heard Admiral snicker under his breath. He poked me and pointed at the screen. In giant letters were WHY DO SANTA DO WHAT SANTA DO?
What makes you lose your mind?
Thanksgiving Day is a funny day. As a single woman I’ve done all kinds of things to enjoy a day filled with families coming together, laughing and having a good time, supposedly. For some it’s sad. For others it’s exciting. This Thanksgiving was going to be memorable, as most of my first time events with Admiral were.
His family tradition is for him to carve the turkey and ham at his sister’s annual family feast. I was on review before the family clan of thousands – a true acid test, if ever there is.
Her present was wrapped and ready to go days earlier. Nothing like bringing a nice gift to make a good impression.
With great anticipation Thanksgiving Day arrived and it was a full day. Long before I met Admiral friend Ann and I had committed to be host volunteers at the Community Dinner. Duties there would end about 2 so I’d be free for the rest of the day. Knowing this his sister generously would hold dinner until we arrived about 3ish.
As Admiral and I drove through the woods and over the hills on narrow country roads, our conversation covered tales of being river rats (a term for children from Richmond who spent summers messing about on the water) and names and relations of attendees – his sister, nieces, nephews, cousins, and any friends who showed up. I was confident I’d get three names right, especially since one was his sister, whom I’d already met. Coaching, while he hunted for a place to park, about who owned the cars in the driveway at his sister’s house was invaluable.
His sister greeted me at the door with a big hug and “Welcome. We’re so glad you’re here. Everyone wants to meet you.”
I replied “Happy Turkey Day. You’re so kind to include me and I really appreciate you holding dinner for us. I have a gift for you and I forgot it. When your brother gets near me, everything goes out of my head.”
His family tradition is for him to carve the turkey and ham at his sister’s annual family feast. I was on review before the family clan of thousands – a true acid test, if ever there is.
Her present was wrapped and ready to go days earlier. Nothing like bringing a nice gift to make a good impression.
With great anticipation Thanksgiving Day arrived and it was a full day. Long before I met Admiral friend Ann and I had committed to be host volunteers at the Community Dinner. Duties there would end about 2 so I’d be free for the rest of the day. Knowing this his sister generously would hold dinner until we arrived about 3ish.
As Admiral and I drove through the woods and over the hills on narrow country roads, our conversation covered tales of being river rats (a term for children from Richmond who spent summers messing about on the water) and names and relations of attendees – his sister, nieces, nephews, cousins, and any friends who showed up. I was confident I’d get three names right, especially since one was his sister, whom I’d already met. Coaching, while he hunted for a place to park, about who owned the cars in the driveway at his sister’s house was invaluable.
His sister greeted me at the door with a big hug and “Welcome. We’re so glad you’re here. Everyone wants to meet you.”
I replied “Happy Turkey Day. You’re so kind to include me and I really appreciate you holding dinner for us. I have a gift for you and I forgot it. When your brother gets near me, everything goes out of my head.”
When are you dazzled by BSOs?
"You're the first to see it. Admiral just gave it to me." I glowed to my daughter during her birthday dinner. "It's a friendship ring." The BSO (bright shiny object) sparkled in the light.
Girlfriends are the best for sharing yummy exciting things, relishing them over again as you tell each detail of events. Three weeks earlier I called Artsy. When she answered the phone, I blurted “Admiral just asked me to marry him and I said YES! Can you believe it?”
“Were you surprised?” she asked. It’s been 7 weeks and I’m surprised at me! When he asked me, I said ‘I’ll think about it.’ then 5 minutes later I said yes. This wasn’t part of my plan as you well know. So it looks like I’ll get a new plan.” I said.
“I couldn’t wait.” Admiral said excitedly. “I had to give you this.” He handed me an oval highly polished brass box I’d seen at his home. “Oh, geez. What is this. Can I fake being excited about this box?” I thought.
In it was a present, wrapped by Admiral himself. The layers of paper and scotch tape gave way from the little square box, revealing the most beautiful ring. It was gold with a sparkly sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds. It took my breath away.
“I wanted to give you something special. Let’s call it a friendship ring for now. I’ll get you something better later.” Admiral said.
“You know, we’re celebrating my daughter’s birthday tonight. It’ll be a double celebration and she’ll be the first to know about the ring.” I said, surprised and loving the bright shiny object on my hand.
Girlfriends are the best for sharing yummy exciting things, relishing them over again as you tell each detail of events. Three weeks earlier I called Artsy. When she answered the phone, I blurted “Admiral just asked me to marry him and I said YES! Can you believe it?”
“Were you surprised?” she asked. It’s been 7 weeks and I’m surprised at me! When he asked me, I said ‘I’ll think about it.’ then 5 minutes later I said yes. This wasn’t part of my plan as you well know. So it looks like I’ll get a new plan.” I said.
“I couldn’t wait.” Admiral said excitedly. “I had to give you this.” He handed me an oval highly polished brass box I’d seen at his home. “Oh, geez. What is this. Can I fake being excited about this box?” I thought.
In it was a present, wrapped by Admiral himself. The layers of paper and scotch tape gave way from the little square box, revealing the most beautiful ring. It was gold with a sparkly sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds. It took my breath away.
“I wanted to give you something special. Let’s call it a friendship ring for now. I’ll get you something better later.” Admiral said.
“You know, we’re celebrating my daughter’s birthday tonight. It’ll be a double celebration and she’ll be the first to know about the ring.” I said, surprised and loving the bright shiny object on my hand.
How many things go in a ring box?
Artsy and I began a Smart Woman's tradition with the Urbanna Oyster Festival. We invite friends to go with us This year our guys are our invited guests to share the fun. Thousands flock to this waterfront town for two days to devour the featured bi-valve, making good parking impossible. Hearing us whine about parking being less than easy, Admiral, with a quick phone call, arranged prime parking for us in town! Don't you love a man who gets things done!
As things usually go with friends in crowds, we got separated from Artsy and her guy because of the big black monster.
The bus was gigantic and black, like the one Pres. Obama used on his August Midwest tour. Admiral was beside himself with excitement.
“What’s so exciting about a bus? It is chilly and I’m ready to get out of the cold for a while.” I thought as I agreed to touring this black monster. Admiral was quick to point out the differences between the one he owned and this one since this one was glitzy and filled with lights, chrome and mirrors. And that was the inside.
Warmed again and still full of oysters, we walked to the car in the primo place, looking for Artsy and her guy with each step. Of course, in my effort to travel light, I’d left my cell phone in the car. When we got to the car, we found a note from Artsy. “Come on in the restaurant around the corner and get warm with us.” That’s a smart woman!
The drive home was warm and very short as we recalled the best oysters (fritters from the Lions Club, she crab soup from the Methodist church), the people we saw and vows to save the date for 2011.
Over casual suppers and outings in boats, planes and old cars, Admiral and I got to know each other better. Respect deepened as we shared gut and heart wrenching losses of marriages from death for him and divorce for me, dreams gone awry and unplanned successes that took us to mountaintops. We realized how precious our relationship was. To be healthy, acutely mentally alert, totally in charge of ourselves, and to have fabulous resources was a miracle at our age. At times we understood each other better than we understood ourselves.
Birthday dinner with my RVA daughter was another first for Admiral. He was finally meeting a child he’d heard much about. She knew this was special as she’d never had more than a fleeting glimpse of men I dated. After opening her presents, she handed me one. “You gave me a birthday present already. What’s this?” I asked about the ring-box shaped, beautifully wrapped package.
“Open it and see.” she grinned.
“It’s a pacifier. What’s happening? What in the world… I get it! Are you…? “ I asked excitedly.
“Yep. Due in late May. Congratulations, GoGo. Grandbaby #2 is on the way.” she announced. “You’re the first to know so keep it quiet ‘til I can tell the rest of the family.”
Then she said, “Hey, Mom, I haven’t seen you wear a ring for years. It looks like Princess Kate’s engagement ring. What’s that?”
As things usually go with friends in crowds, we got separated from Artsy and her guy because of the big black monster.
The bus was gigantic and black, like the one Pres. Obama used on his August Midwest tour. Admiral was beside himself with excitement.
“What’s so exciting about a bus? It is chilly and I’m ready to get out of the cold for a while.” I thought as I agreed to touring this black monster. Admiral was quick to point out the differences between the one he owned and this one since this one was glitzy and filled with lights, chrome and mirrors. And that was the inside.
Warmed again and still full of oysters, we walked to the car in the primo place, looking for Artsy and her guy with each step. Of course, in my effort to travel light, I’d left my cell phone in the car. When we got to the car, we found a note from Artsy. “Come on in the restaurant around the corner and get warm with us.” That’s a smart woman!
The drive home was warm and very short as we recalled the best oysters (fritters from the Lions Club, she crab soup from the Methodist church), the people we saw and vows to save the date for 2011.
Over casual suppers and outings in boats, planes and old cars, Admiral and I got to know each other better. Respect deepened as we shared gut and heart wrenching losses of marriages from death for him and divorce for me, dreams gone awry and unplanned successes that took us to mountaintops. We realized how precious our relationship was. To be healthy, acutely mentally alert, totally in charge of ourselves, and to have fabulous resources was a miracle at our age. At times we understood each other better than we understood ourselves.
Birthday dinner with my RVA daughter was another first for Admiral. He was finally meeting a child he’d heard much about. She knew this was special as she’d never had more than a fleeting glimpse of men I dated. After opening her presents, she handed me one. “You gave me a birthday present already. What’s this?” I asked about the ring-box shaped, beautifully wrapped package.
“Open it and see.” she grinned.
“It’s a pacifier. What’s happening? What in the world… I get it! Are you…? “ I asked excitedly.
“Yep. Due in late May. Congratulations, GoGo. Grandbaby #2 is on the way.” she announced. “You’re the first to know so keep it quiet ‘til I can tell the rest of the family.”
Then she said, “Hey, Mom, I haven’t seen you wear a ring for years. It looks like Princess Kate’s engagement ring. What’s that?”
A Phenomenal Woman
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I’m not cute or built to suit a model’s fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I’m telling lies.
I say
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
Like a bunch of honey bees
I say
It’s the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say
It’s in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace on my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It’s in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand the need for my care.
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
by Maya Angelou
I’m not cute or built to suit a model’s fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I’m telling lies.
I say
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
Like a bunch of honey bees
I say
It’s the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say
It’s in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace on my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It’s in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand the need for my care.
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.
by Maya Angelou
Up Close and Personal with the Man in the Moon
It was time for the acid test. Girlfriends, cherished soul mates who speak truth, met Admiral. The evening was great fun and noisy, of course, with a dozen women talking at once. Admiral loved every minute of being the only man there and being the center of attention. He grinned from ear to ear, posed for snapshots, and talked easily with all. The next day each friend confirmed what I felt - he's a keeper.
"Let's fly up for the day." Admiral said when I talked about an extreme acid test - meeting my Delaware family. “You set the date and I’ll get us there in time for lunch.” he said.
The flight to Wilmington, DE was easy and scenic. The little 'potato chip' plane flew smoothly under Admiral's control, across the Chesapeake Bay, over farmland, cities and interesting landmarks.
The whole clan picked us up at the airport and took us to a charming restaurant in New Castle. The minute Admiral left the table they were full of questions about this man. “So, are you taking flying lessons?” # 1 Son asked right off the bat.
When Admiral returned, the questions changed. Yummy food was consumed over easy conversation with a heavy helping of check-out-the-new-guy-this-must-be-serious undercurrent for this first meeting.
Enjoying ourselves caused a later-than-planned departure for home. The return flight was expectedly smooth. Colors were brilliant as the sun set. Lights twinkled on the ground below and in the heavens above us. Conversation was animated as usual. Suddenly the plane was in a steep bank. “What’s going on? I’m going to throw up. This is the end.” I thought.
When I felt the plane level, I opened my eyes. We were flying straight into the biggest full moon I'd ever seen! I felt like I could reach out and tickle his chin!
Admiral held my hand and said “Look, the moon’s laughing at us. Do you think he laughs as much as we do?”
"Let's fly up for the day." Admiral said when I talked about an extreme acid test - meeting my Delaware family. “You set the date and I’ll get us there in time for lunch.” he said.
The flight to Wilmington, DE was easy and scenic. The little 'potato chip' plane flew smoothly under Admiral's control, across the Chesapeake Bay, over farmland, cities and interesting landmarks.
The whole clan picked us up at the airport and took us to a charming restaurant in New Castle. The minute Admiral left the table they were full of questions about this man. “So, are you taking flying lessons?” # 1 Son asked right off the bat.
When Admiral returned, the questions changed. Yummy food was consumed over easy conversation with a heavy helping of check-out-the-new-guy-this-must-be-serious undercurrent for this first meeting.
Enjoying ourselves caused a later-than-planned departure for home. The return flight was expectedly smooth. Colors were brilliant as the sun set. Lights twinkled on the ground below and in the heavens above us. Conversation was animated as usual. Suddenly the plane was in a steep bank. “What’s going on? I’m going to throw up. This is the end.” I thought.
When I felt the plane level, I opened my eyes. We were flying straight into the biggest full moon I'd ever seen! I felt like I could reach out and tickle his chin!
Admiral held my hand and said “Look, the moon’s laughing at us. Do you think he laughs as much as we do?”
Camping Out with Irene
“Will the drama never cease!” I exclaimed as I watched the Weather Channel. In RVA hurricanes are part of our summer weather, violent as they are. For days the hype built. Irene was huge, strong and getting bigger with each telecast.
The reporter was standing in surf in front of the Red Neck Palace in Kill Devil Hills. This beachfront cottage has been falling in the ocean for 12 years, at least. Hurricane Irene was on the way. At 14 mph she moved at my speed and there was plenty of warning to get to the grocery and stock up.
“It’s raining here.” Mary said. “I’m staying and riding Irene out. Stores are closed. Home Depot is open still. Oh, CNN interviewed my husband and it should be televised soon.” She continued. As we talked the TV flashed to Nags Head where Mary lives. Irene was arriving.
Irene was a big gal – as wide as Europe. Rain and wind projections and past experience said water would come in my house. For the first time in 18 years my house was empty – not one stick of anything, except sheets and towels, remained. “That’s all I need to stay at Sugar House – where life is sweet. I’ll camp out. The power never goes out. I can cook on the gas stove and take a hot shower. This’ll be an adventure.” I thought. My hurricane ready kit included projects to do sans electricity (in case power goes out), a good book, towels for mopping water, candles, matches, beach chair, health bars, chocolate and lots of diet coke.
The rain fell in torrents. The wind howled. I watched from each window while wiping up water blown through the sashes. Sheets of rain flew by. Blossoms on the crepe myrtles and flowers were blown off hours ago. The wind made eerie noises as it screamed by the front door.
Final cleaning to ready Sugar House for the next resident was my second priority, behind mopping up water.
“Just heard a tree’s down by your new house.” Wanda said. Thank heavens for cell phones. “Just saw it on Ch. 12. Thought you’d want to know."
Irene’s screaming winds and banging rain provided background sounds to the chat with my new neighbor I’d met the day before. “Yes, the tree fell. It’s on the other side of my house – well away from yours.” Alice volunteered. “I’ll call you if I see anything happening at your place.”
Lights flickered. “Is this it? Daylight’s fading. I better find the candles and matches now. “ I decided.
Ready for the worst I relaxed in my beach chair, watched wind-blown rain dance off the buildings, saw trees sway and connected with children and girlfriends, while sipping a Starbuck’s, brought in and reheated to make this adventure civilized. If I’m camping, I want all the luxuries.
Darkness fell. Sitting under the lone overhead light, I read, drank wine, and nibbled my dinner.
Perfect evenings end when it’s time to mop water and fix my bed – pads and layers of sheets piled on the floor on top of each other. As I crawled in, the floor got hard. As I settled under the covers, it got harder. My bones got sharper.
“And my children used to sleep like this! No wonder they were awake half the night.” I thought. “This sucks. Life here isn’t sweet now. I don’t do floor sleeping. What were you thinking! I can drive to my new house and that comfy bed would feel so fabulous. But it’s raining. I don’t know where trees are down or if the highway is open. I hate being out in driving rain. I’d better stay here. I can do this. Good night, Irene.” I said.
I must've slept as I woke to a breathtakingly beautiful morning. The clearest blue sky highlighted with pink puffies was my first sight. The quiet was almost deafening. Irene was gone. All was well. The drama had ceased.
The reporter was standing in surf in front of the Red Neck Palace in Kill Devil Hills. This beachfront cottage has been falling in the ocean for 12 years, at least. Hurricane Irene was on the way. At 14 mph she moved at my speed and there was plenty of warning to get to the grocery and stock up.
“It’s raining here.” Mary said. “I’m staying and riding Irene out. Stores are closed. Home Depot is open still. Oh, CNN interviewed my husband and it should be televised soon.” She continued. As we talked the TV flashed to Nags Head where Mary lives. Irene was arriving.
Irene was a big gal – as wide as Europe. Rain and wind projections and past experience said water would come in my house. For the first time in 18 years my house was empty – not one stick of anything, except sheets and towels, remained. “That’s all I need to stay at Sugar House – where life is sweet. I’ll camp out. The power never goes out. I can cook on the gas stove and take a hot shower. This’ll be an adventure.” I thought. My hurricane ready kit included projects to do sans electricity (in case power goes out), a good book, towels for mopping water, candles, matches, beach chair, health bars, chocolate and lots of diet coke.
The rain fell in torrents. The wind howled. I watched from each window while wiping up water blown through the sashes. Sheets of rain flew by. Blossoms on the crepe myrtles and flowers were blown off hours ago. The wind made eerie noises as it screamed by the front door.
Final cleaning to ready Sugar House for the next resident was my second priority, behind mopping up water.
“Just heard a tree’s down by your new house.” Wanda said. Thank heavens for cell phones. “Just saw it on Ch. 12. Thought you’d want to know."
Irene’s screaming winds and banging rain provided background sounds to the chat with my new neighbor I’d met the day before. “Yes, the tree fell. It’s on the other side of my house – well away from yours.” Alice volunteered. “I’ll call you if I see anything happening at your place.”
Lights flickered. “Is this it? Daylight’s fading. I better find the candles and matches now. “ I decided.
Ready for the worst I relaxed in my beach chair, watched wind-blown rain dance off the buildings, saw trees sway and connected with children and girlfriends, while sipping a Starbuck’s, brought in and reheated to make this adventure civilized. If I’m camping, I want all the luxuries.
Darkness fell. Sitting under the lone overhead light, I read, drank wine, and nibbled my dinner.
Perfect evenings end when it’s time to mop water and fix my bed – pads and layers of sheets piled on the floor on top of each other. As I crawled in, the floor got hard. As I settled under the covers, it got harder. My bones got sharper.
“And my children used to sleep like this! No wonder they were awake half the night.” I thought. “This sucks. Life here isn’t sweet now. I don’t do floor sleeping. What were you thinking! I can drive to my new house and that comfy bed would feel so fabulous. But it’s raining. I don’t know where trees are down or if the highway is open. I hate being out in driving rain. I’d better stay here. I can do this. Good night, Irene.” I said.
I must've slept as I woke to a breathtakingly beautiful morning. The clearest blue sky highlighted with pink puffies was my first sight. The quiet was almost deafening. Irene was gone. All was well. The drama had ceased.
With love on your 111th Birthday, Aunt Kate
“You’re wearing a path through my yard. You’ve got to stop that. “ Aunt Kate sternly said as she stopped me in my tracks on the way to second grade. Her yard was half way between home and school, a path walked almost daily. Filled with fear and trembling, I said “Yes, ma’m. I won’t do it again.” On my way I went, thinking “When is she gone so she won’t catch me again?”
Aunt Kate was a large woman with a strong voice. Married to my mother’s brother, Aunt Kate was a solid Christian, the first woman elected to the governing body of her church when women were more silent than heard. She was my god mother, a role she took seriously. And she was the woman who most positively influenced me and truly loved me.
Knowing how crazy my family was, she gave me glimpses of a sane, loving world. She bought me my first new tennis racket, replacing the hand-me-down racket from Mother’s teen years. With her I experienced my first airplane ride - all the way across the country. We were visiting her grandchildren, cousins who were my age. On that flight I sat by the window, taking in the scenery, spellbound by huge flat fields, glacier covered mountains and the Grand Canyon. I don’t think I moved a muscle.
The entire summer was spent experiencing life in Silicon Valley. There were strawberries to pick; the chilly very salty Pacific Ocean to wade in; a swimming pool for daily splashing and cousins to hang out with. I didn’t want to go home.
Eight weeks at Camp Alleghany in the West Virginia hills were heaven. Another whole summer away from home was better than good. Home sick was never in my vocabulary.
When my parents went away for months, I got to stay with Aunt Kate. These were the times I got As at school. The routine was rigid, centered on doing homework and all that makes A students. She was so authoritarian I didn’t want to know what any consequences were so I always followed her rules and life was good.
I never really got how special Aunt Kate was until she and Uncle Garland moved to Westminster-Canterbury, where you could live and be cared for ‘til you died. She wasn’t going to be a burden to her children in declining years, as she experienced taking care of her father in his decline.
Born in 1900 she delighted in telling every and anyone how old she was. On her 90th birthday the whole clan, 60 strong, gathered from across the country to honor her. Many of the nine girls named Katharine after her were there. My daughter is K8.
When my marriage ended, I dreaded telling her, fearful she would be disappointed in me. Again she wanted to provide for me.
Aunt Kate began to slow down after Uncle Garland passed away. Soon she gave up leading Stretch-&-Tone for sister residents and her church activities. Failing health and memory took her to assisted living where she lived in a room with familiar furniture and a hospital bed.
I took her to see my new home, bought with her blessing. I dreaded telling her son and the infirmary team that she’d fallen on the stoop and skinned up her shin badly. Luckily nothing was broken. When I told her son about it, he said she was always klutzy, another little known fact.
Faithfully I visited her, noticing each time how much thinner and frailer she was, how little she asked and how much I loved her. One visit was unforgettable. Aunt Kate was sitting in her favorite chair with her half eaten lunch on the tray before her. When I asked about her meal, she said “I’m waiting for the train to come. It slows down so I can pass my tray though the window to them and the poor people on board will have something to eat.” She didn’t mind if I waited with her until the train came.
After I left, I had to pull the car over and park while I wept with a broken heart. My precious fairy godmother Aunt Kate, whom I loved dearly, was gone. The woman who really, really loved me had been stolen by dementia.
Aunt Kate was a large woman with a strong voice. Married to my mother’s brother, Aunt Kate was a solid Christian, the first woman elected to the governing body of her church when women were more silent than heard. She was my god mother, a role she took seriously. And she was the woman who most positively influenced me and truly loved me.
Knowing how crazy my family was, she gave me glimpses of a sane, loving world. She bought me my first new tennis racket, replacing the hand-me-down racket from Mother’s teen years. With her I experienced my first airplane ride - all the way across the country. We were visiting her grandchildren, cousins who were my age. On that flight I sat by the window, taking in the scenery, spellbound by huge flat fields, glacier covered mountains and the Grand Canyon. I don’t think I moved a muscle.
The entire summer was spent experiencing life in Silicon Valley. There were strawberries to pick; the chilly very salty Pacific Ocean to wade in; a swimming pool for daily splashing and cousins to hang out with. I didn’t want to go home.
Eight weeks at Camp Alleghany in the West Virginia hills were heaven. Another whole summer away from home was better than good. Home sick was never in my vocabulary.
When my parents went away for months, I got to stay with Aunt Kate. These were the times I got As at school. The routine was rigid, centered on doing homework and all that makes A students. She was so authoritarian I didn’t want to know what any consequences were so I always followed her rules and life was good.
I never really got how special Aunt Kate was until she and Uncle Garland moved to Westminster-Canterbury, where you could live and be cared for ‘til you died. She wasn’t going to be a burden to her children in declining years, as she experienced taking care of her father in his decline.
Born in 1900 she delighted in telling every and anyone how old she was. On her 90th birthday the whole clan, 60 strong, gathered from across the country to honor her. Many of the nine girls named Katharine after her were there. My daughter is K8.
When my marriage ended, I dreaded telling her, fearful she would be disappointed in me. Again she wanted to provide for me.
Aunt Kate began to slow down after Uncle Garland passed away. Soon she gave up leading Stretch-&-Tone for sister residents and her church activities. Failing health and memory took her to assisted living where she lived in a room with familiar furniture and a hospital bed.
I took her to see my new home, bought with her blessing. I dreaded telling her son and the infirmary team that she’d fallen on the stoop and skinned up her shin badly. Luckily nothing was broken. When I told her son about it, he said she was always klutzy, another little known fact.
Faithfully I visited her, noticing each time how much thinner and frailer she was, how little she asked and how much I loved her. One visit was unforgettable. Aunt Kate was sitting in her favorite chair with her half eaten lunch on the tray before her. When I asked about her meal, she said “I’m waiting for the train to come. It slows down so I can pass my tray though the window to them and the poor people on board will have something to eat.” She didn’t mind if I waited with her until the train came.
After I left, I had to pull the car over and park while I wept with a broken heart. My precious fairy godmother Aunt Kate, whom I loved dearly, was gone. The woman who really, really loved me had been stolen by dementia.
What's Going On Isn't What You Think Is Going On
I was feeling overwhelmed. My book Smart Women Make Their Own Rules was in its final stages of printing, plans were underway for signings and there wasn’t enough of me to go around. How was I going to manage all that and a relationship too?
“I’m in his sights, I know it. I just don’t know what I want to do.” I told Smith. “This is going faster than I thought.”
“So why are you resisting what’s happening? He’s offering you what you want. What’s going on?”Smith asked.
When feeling out of control, I resort to getting order by making order out of chaos. An energy zapping messy office bookcase was the target. At completion many books were stacked up to go to Goodwill, notebooks were tossed and old journals were set aside for my old journal ritual.
Journaling is a marvelous tool. I started the practice when my marriage was falling apart, life was too painful and I was at my wit’s end. As life changes, journal pages fill and they rest on a shelf until ritual time. The ritual is quite simple: I burn each page, scattering the ashes in a special place in my garden.
In the cover of darkness, I sat in my garden and watched flames consume each page. One page was different with columns on it vs. the paragraphs that cleared my head. “Hmm, I’d better set this one aside and read it later. It looks too different.” I thought.
In the light of my cozy room I read the set-aside page. It was titled My Man – 2004. In two columns were lwords - the values and traits I wanted in my man. As I read it, I was awed. I couldn’t believe it! I wrote it in ’04 and here I am in 2011- reading each word that described Admiral.
“So why am I hesitating?” I ask myself. “Smokie, you don’t feel like you deserve this guy. Look at your self esteem. You asked for this man and here he is. You are so worthy of this guy. Get over yourself. “
New Friends among Forever Friends
A few days later Admiral and I attended a fund raiser for Children Inc. to see Seldom Scene, whose banjo player was a college friend. People that had blown me off chatted easily with me – because I was Admiral’s date. “I remember the time you landed your helicopter on my dock! It was most exciting.” one snooty gal exclaimed. When I told Admiral how suddenly I was okay to talk to, he laughed and said “Sounds like ‘em.”
We flew to Raleigh to celebrate the birthday of one of his first grade friends. I love private flying – no rude TSA! Classmates howled as they recalled Admiral’s antics. There’s a lot to be said for one who has friends from elementary school.
The next day we returned to Richmond in time for another of Admiral’s friend’s birthday party who goes to my church. Richmond’s small world makes life easy often. More stories came out about midnight takeoffs to the Bahamas from Florida, how he helped people sleep because he fixed their boat air conditioning on sultry hot nights, and rendezvous in exotic places on his magnificent yachts. Always the gentleman, he stood by quietly and smiling as people told stories on him with delight.
The Smart Woman’s tradition of going to the Urbanna Oyster Festival with friends was coming up. “Do I invite Admiral? What the hey, let’s do it." I thought. Not only did he gladly accept my invitation, he used connections to arrange a splendid parking place inside the tiny town where parking miles from the action is the procedure. One more time he shows he’s my kind of guy.
Wandering through shops, looking at the sites and eating oysters is the activity. As we chatted and strolled through an art show, he asked me what I was looking for on match. “My last first date.” I replied. Grinning widely, he said “Me, too. “
We flew to Raleigh to celebrate the birthday of one of his first grade friends. I love private flying – no rude TSA! Classmates howled as they recalled Admiral’s antics. There’s a lot to be said for one who has friends from elementary school.
The next day we returned to Richmond in time for another of Admiral’s friend’s birthday party who goes to my church. Richmond’s small world makes life easy often. More stories came out about midnight takeoffs to the Bahamas from Florida, how he helped people sleep because he fixed their boat air conditioning on sultry hot nights, and rendezvous in exotic places on his magnificent yachts. Always the gentleman, he stood by quietly and smiling as people told stories on him with delight.
The Smart Woman’s tradition of going to the Urbanna Oyster Festival with friends was coming up. “Do I invite Admiral? What the hey, let’s do it." I thought. Not only did he gladly accept my invitation, he used connections to arrange a splendid parking place inside the tiny town where parking miles from the action is the procedure. One more time he shows he’s my kind of guy.
Wandering through shops, looking at the sites and eating oysters is the activity. As we chatted and strolled through an art show, he asked me what I was looking for on match. “My last first date.” I replied. Grinning widely, he said “Me, too. “
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