New Year's Reflections

I hadn't realized it has been over two months since my last post. Time flies when your life takes a 360 degree turn, I guess. I can easily say my days often belong to others instead of myself. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Change is very hard, especially when I had become set in the ways of my retired life. That quiet often sedentary life was kind of nice in retrospect. I had so much more time to do nothing, and now I long for those moments. I miss being able to sit with my laptop and idle away for hours if I wanted to, no questions asked, no demands for my time or attention. But I also love hearing my grandkids laughing or asking for me. It's a tradeoff for sure, but I like it that way.

Christmas this year was like a Christmas of the past - waking up with the little ones, seeing the sheer joy on their faces when they saw Santa's bounty. I loved seeing our family room in "ruins"- wrapping paper strewn from one end to the other. I loved watching Brennan playing in a box instead of with the many toys he received. Isn't that always the case? You spend oodles of money on toys and the kids prefer the boxes, paper, and bows.

The New Year is now upon me and I am feeling a bit contemplative. So many things run through my mind about what I hope to achieve in the next year. 2010 has been a challenging year for me, one I hope isn't replicated. I hope to write more - on the next children's book I have in my head. I hope to make time to read more. I now have a "studio" to escape to...now if I can figure out how to get there without anyone noticing that I've disappeared.

I wish all who read this post a happy, healthy, peace-filled New Year. I am approaching 2011 with some trepidation. I've earned that right.

Autumnal Bliss and Pinings

It's been a long time since I've posted on my blog. A recent trip to Hayward, WI to visit our dearest friends, the Lewandowskis, gave me reason to pause and reflect once again...

I have never been what you call an outdoorsy person. I am Chicago bred and raised to the age of 15, and suburban living since that age has done little to change that. Camping, in anything other than a 4 or 5 star hotel, is a definite "not gonna happen". Fear of spiders and other multi-legged and winged creatures has not evaded me as I've aged. I still quiver at the sight of a spider or worm! I have, however, developed a passion for all things beautiful in nature - a doe and her fawn, an eagle or hawk soaring, the cerulean blue of an autumn sky with the fall colors glowing in front of it, a sunset over a lake, or the scent of pine in a national forest. My passion for photography has fueled this drive to see and do more. In my older years I have done more hiking than ever, despite two bum knees and a whole lot of arthritis trying to set me back. I have pushed myself and it has been worth the occasional aches and pains that follow. Two years ago a two-mile hike would have been deemed impossible, but total knee replacement on my left leg has allowed me to move on - literally and figuratively.

Being away from home in the gorgeous setting of the North Woods of Wisconsin allowed me to breathe a little deeper, ponder, and most of all escape to spend some quality time with Artie, and of course our wonderful hosts Lou Ann and Joe. Experiencing the north woods with Joe, who is incredibly knowledgeable about the area, its history, and all of the things to see and do, was incredible. Theirs is the only home I can feel completely comfortable in - free to be without makeup, no fuss-no muss. I could lounge in my jammies until 10 if I wanted and no one cared. I could sit and read without feeling I had to be initiating conversation. The pauses in their world are welcomed ones. Sitting on the sofa and staring out their windows at Lake Callahan was better medicine than any doctor could provide. Food for the soul. I never would have dreamed, growing up a city kid, that the sight of a nuthatch, chickadee, blue jay or woodpecker would set me all aflutter. Communing with the deer was an experience I will never forget. Feeling the trust of a young fawn as she allowed me to get within 10 yards of her to take photos will live in my mind for as long as it works.

Our time in Hayward reminded me of what poets and great thinkers who wrote about nature must have felt when they penned their memories and thoughts so eloquently. Being so close to all of God's masterpieces and being privileged enough to be part of it emptied my mind at times, but also filled it with ponderings. I was amazed at how time does seem to stand still when it comes to close friendships. I have been blessed to befriend so many wonderful people in my 57 years, but few stand the test of time like our relationship with Lou Ann and Joe. We can pick up where we left off between the months that pass where we do not see one another. I think that is a rare gift.

The photos I've posted are among my favorites of the 450 shots I took. They give a flavor of the wonderful time we had, and the mind cleansing we experienced.

Where is My Endless Summer Going?

For me life is one endless summer - one of the many perks of retirement. I confess that summer is NOT my favorite season in any way, shape or form. I do not like heat and I despise humidity and its effects on both my hair and armpits. Gross, right? Give me temps in the 70s or even low 80s and I am one happy camper. Anything higher and I am holed up inside with the AC blasting. Mind you, I am sitting inside now and it is a picture perfect day, but I am tired and wanted to do absolutely nothing today but play on my MacBook. Drives Lindsay crazy! She is convinced I am addicted to my laptop...and you know what? I am! As I have explained to my daughter, I worked 28 years to earn the right and privilege to do nothing! I do not, however, consider it nothing, playing on the computer. It keeps my brain working, and we all know that an idle mind is the Devil's workshop...or something like that! I do some of my best "work" on my laptop. I converse with friends, read about the world, check Facebook, vote on Capture My Chicago (hey, I am helping to shape the coffee table book in which one my photos was published - a full page - last year in the contest), and yes, I do occasionally SHOP online! Any you know what? I dig it. Every last minute of the time I spend on my laptop. It keeps me busy, and off the streets.

I do get out, and I even subject my body to some exercise - swimming in our swim spa. I am one with water. I've said it before. I don't even mind the giggles and sneers people give me when they learn I was a synchronized swimmer...but that is old news. I've blogged about that before. Getting back to this endless summer thing - although I don't love this season, I appreciate it because I know that in a few short months (weeks?) the weather will turn and then I will be crabbing about how short autumn is and how lllllooonnnngggg winter is! I have lived in the Chicagoland area my whole life. Why then do I hate winter more and more every year? Could it be that my aging body aches, throbs, and is angry all winter long? Arthritis has seen to it that the dreaded winter season makes me even more crabby. I have knobs and bumps on my hands that make me want to wear gloves even when INSIDE! Midwesterners get the short end of the weather stick, don't we? Long winters, short springs, dreadfully hot and humid summers, and short autumn. Why do we stay? Every winter I plot my revenge against the Chicagoland winters and am convinced that this will be our last winter here. I dream of the "perfect" place to live, and you know what? There is no such place! Those places along the Gulf and oceans may have great weather, but they also have hurricanes. Places that have mountains have lots of snow and cold. Other places, like San Diego has its share of pitfalls too - way too many people, including lots of illegals crossing the border. I have always dreamed of living in Asheville, North Carolina. I know they have nasty ice storms. We may have lots of snow and cold but we have few ice storms. Last year's ice storm brought some of my best photo ops.

And let's face it, the real reason I am still here - year after dreaded winter - is family! My kids and grandkids, my mom, brother and sister (despite our differences, of course) my sister and brother in law on Artie's side, and all my nieces, nephews and their kids too. Artie and I had our experiment at living in another state and we hated it! It just wasn't home. So, when this endless summer ends, I guess I will be bearing down and preparing for yet another long, horrible winter...but at least I will have company!! All of you that stick it out with me year after year! For that I am willing to stick it out.

I Am 6 (plus 50)

As you probably know, my daughter, son in law, three grandkids and their dog are now living with us. To say my life is different now is an understatement. Gone are the moments of silent bliss, gone is sitting in my chair alone, gone is going to the bathroom in peace, etc. With the arrival of my grandchildren came the "pitter patter of little feet" indeed...and whining, crying, and lots of discussions about why they can't do certain things. This has all given me pause to reflect back on my days of raising their mother and uncle. Being a grandparent gives you a chance to make better some of the dumb things you did as a young parent. I find myself being much more in control this time around. Not that it is always a cake walk, because it isn't. I am a LOT older, maybe wiser, and definitely more tired now. I actually slept until 8:30 one morning last week! That hasn't happened in years and years.

On Monday Landon turned 6 years old. For weeks he has been telling us all the things he will be able to do now that he is 6. It has been extremely humorous to hear him talk about this monumental event in his life. While driving in the Zimny family van to Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate this event I was chatting away with Landon and it occurred to me that I am, and will always be, 50 years older than him. For some reason this struck a cord with me. I am a half century older than my first grandchild! Hearing him tell me all of his plans for what he will do now that he is 6 has made me think about how important it is to never stop dreaming about what you want to do when you grow up. The words of a 6 year old have, once again, made more sense to me than anything else.

On Tuesday I was getting ready to leave for Book Club and both Landon and Aniella were very sad that I was leaving. They questioned me about where I was going, how long I would be gone, and why I had to leave. They even walked me to the garage door and stood and waved goodbye to me. I had a flashback to the days when Artie and I would go out and leave the kids with my parents or one of my nieces, and how they would be so sad that we were leaving. I had the very same guilt pangs I had on Tuesday that I had when we would go out for a much-needed break from raising children. But the best part of my day was coming home from Book Club and being greeted by two little munchkins who screamed out my name and jumped into my arms, telling me how much they missed me! I was actually overwhelmed by this and it made me realize just how lucky I am to have the life I have now. It may be tough at times, and I may drown in the pity pool frequently, but when I walk in the door and am greeted in that way I know I will smile inside and out.

Life Can turn on a Dime

Just one year ago I retired from teaching after 28 years. It has been blissful, fun, and relaxing. That was then and this is now...

Two days ago my daughter and her family (husband, three kids and their Westie) moved in with us for good. What once seemed like a roomy 3-bedroom ranch nows feels a bit like an upscale sardine can with a large great room. Life does that sometimes. Their move in has forced me to be proactive in purging unneeded and unnecessary "stuff". Coincidentally our neighborhood is having a garage sale this upcoming weekend! SCORE! I am now hoping my "trash" becomes a whole lot of people's "treasure"!

Back to our current reality...the deafening (and peace filled) silence is now filled with little voices. Sometimes those voices are music to my ears and sometimes I would rather run my fingernails down my old chalkboard. The kids have adjusted well to their new digs. We decorated their room with an undersea theme. It is adorable. Bunk beds have made the room large enough to play in. Right now Landon and Annie are sharing the room and co-habitating nicely. Brennan is sleeping with his mommy and daddy. Needless to say finishing the basement has now become a reality. So, the purging has become a much-needed event in the Cybul home.

Anyone who wants to come "shopping" at our garage sale, it will be Friday and Saturday, June 4 & 5.

It's Official! I am a GROWNUP now!

I just returned from spending 5 days in Las Vegas with Artie, who was out there for his company's annual conference. How did this trip make me proclaim my status as a grownup? Well, because I did many things that now have catapulted me to that point.

I must backtrack a bit to share with you that I was a VERY sheltered child. Born eight years after my sister, and ten years after my brother, I was the true "baby" of the family. My parents and grandparents spoiled me and kept me in my own little princess castle existence. Because my grandparents lived with us, I never spent a moment with a babysitter. And, ready for this, NEVER spent even an hour alone until I was a freshman in college. Needless to say some of those "firsts" were very intimidating to me.

Fast forward to my marriage to Artie. He has continued the spoiling and sheltering, which I welcomed since I was used to it. Some of the "firsts" in our married life were frightening for me. I remember being terrified to be alone when he worked late or had to go out of town. Since I am pretty much a crybaby you can imagine how many tears were shed as I knocked back some of the experiences that shape us as adults. I became an official adult when I began my teaching career. Having to step into the role of educator and working with parents makes you do that pretty quickly. I handled that fairly well, if I don't say so myself. Was I a grownup yet? NOPE!

OK, so I've set the stage for you to understand why I have officially become a grownup. Are you ready? OK, here is why I became a GROWNUP this past week:

1. I flew alone for the first time ever - Artie was on another flight
2. I found and retrieved my own luggage for the first time
3. I took a tour to see the Grand Canyon all by myself since Artie was tied up in meetings.
4. I did the Skywalk at the West Rim of the Grand Canyon - 4,000 feet above the floor of the canyon
5. I ate alone in restaurants and didn't feel creepy.
6. I walked the streets of Las Vegas alone
7. I rode one of Vegas' monorails alone
8. I gambled alone (no, didn't win a thing)

Add to that I've begun putting my own gas in my car (see, I told you Artie was helping to keep my sheltered)!

So, it's official. I have now conquered some of my "fears" at age 56. I even did one of the things on my Bucket List! I love being in my 50s.

Southern Hospitality

I just returned from an amazing vacation to Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Artie and I drove down to Pigeon Forge with our grandkids, and Lindsay and John. What a wonderful place to visit. Dolly Parton has made Dollywood a truly magical place, designed specifically for families. It is pure and wholesome in every way. What struck me most was the amount of restrooms throughout the park! When you are visiting with small children, including a baby, this is notable. The bathrooms were even air conditioned and clean. You never had to look very far for a bathroom. There are even nursing stations, complete with a private bathroom. Dollywood is fun for all and there is something for everyone.

It seems that everywhere I travel to, I want to live there. I guess it's true that the grass is always greener somewhere else...but in Tennessee I found the friendliest people I've ever met. Not just in Dollywood, but everywhere we visited - even the Walgreens employees were friendly. People smile and say hello as if by second nature. Cars stop for you if you are waiting to cross, and then wave to you as you pass by. Eastern Tennesseeans personify southern hospitality. Because we were all treated so graciously, it quickly and easily rubbed off on us all. We became eager to smile more, say hello to strangers, talk to people without any fear of being judged or worse yet, snubbed. Hearing "y'all" became music to my ears. Being called "darlin'" or "honey" by male servers in restaurants felt charming, not offensive in any way. I couldn't help but think of those radical feminists who would cringe at being called either, but for me, it was fun. I liked it!

Another notable thing was the lack of pretentiousness by people. No one was dressed to the nines anywhere we visited. They were dressed for comfort, not fashion savvy. Tee shirts abounded. I didn't even wear mascara! I never leave the house without it, and while in Tennessee I just didn't feel the need for it. I didn't even care that my hair got wet on the water rides and dried looking like some creature from the Black Lagoon. I simply didn't care because I knew no one would be judgmental. What a refreshing change from living here in the Chicago suburbs.

In my middle age I have found a closer connection to nature. I crave the warmth and peace that natural beauty in mountains, trees, and water bring. Trust me, I am not one to commune with nature - camping for me is a Holiday Inn or Motel 6. But now that I am retired, I am feeling the need to surround myself with the natural beauty God has created for us. I found myself wanting to wake up to the views that we woke up to every day in Pigeon Forge. To open your eyes and see the mountains and trees was exhilarating. For those of you who have been to any of our homes, you know how much we love trees. We have tried to imitate those views as best as we can but it just isn't the same. Our view is Al's backyard...not quite the same as the Smoky Mountains. Oh well...

Water in My Soul

I was born and raised in the city of Chicago. I grew up a city kid with privileges - my parents owned a summer home in Lake Geneva. My grandpa was the carpenter who built our Lake Geneva house. It was knotty pine inside with wood floors throughout. I spent every summer of my life, till age 15, in Lake Geneva. On the last day of each school year we packed up our car and drove up to Wisconsin. I returned to Chicago on the day before school resumed. During those carefree days of summer I swam, skied, sailed, and went boating. I think I had permanent prune skin from all the time I spent in Lake Geneva. I swam, dove, played in water literally all day long...until I got to be too cool and worried more about my hair than having fun. A charmed life for sure...but like most dopey teens I didn't realize what a good thing I had, complaining that I was bored - bored with a charmed life? I remain ashamed to this day. My parents sold the house several years ago when none of us kids (and our kids) went up there. We were all too busy with our sports and then our kids' sports. Sad.

I was born under a Water sign. I have been a "water baby" since I could walk. In fact I actually DID walk off the pier into the water when I was not yet two years old! And oh, my friends chide me for this fact, but I was a synchronized swimmer in high school. No stupid faces and nose clips back then. No excessive makeup and lipstick either. In fact, our teacher sponsor made us re-do our routines if we spit out any water when we came up from underwater. She would screech at the top of her lungs and embarrass us to death. My love of water left me smelling like chlorine most days in my senior year of high school. My eyes were permanently reddened from the chemicals and my hair never looked too great, as I remember it. This was before blow dryers, and I have the world's thickest hair that never dried! Artie didn't seem to mind...

Last week I had the pleasure of visiting with a dear friend in Hayward, WI. Her and her husband's beautiful home is on Callahan Lake and the views are spectacular! Deer in the feeder, finches and woodpeckers in the bird feeders. My camera was so busy! I felt so at home and at peace with the world. I realized right then and there that I was meant to be near water. I have been thinking of nothing else since my visit. Water, trees, and wildlife is what brings me the most peace. Getting to photograph all of these things fed my passions. I have even been online looking for potential property. Yeah, right. This is just not gonna happen any time soon. I'll be OK. Our swim spa is ready for use now and our pine trees look great. It isn't lake property, but it will have to do. The robins. doves, and sparrows will have to satisfy my nature fix for now.

Did You Ever Wonder...

Why there are so many single shoes in the road? Who throws single shoes out their car windows and more importantly WHY?

Why "Plus Size" clothing is POLYESTER? Cruel joke. Larger people tend to sweat as it is and poly is not a "fat friendly" or menopausal fabric!

Why there are always sales on mattresses?

Why weight loss is called DIEt?

Where WGN dug up their Illinois Lottery "spokesmodels"?

Why Linda Kollmeyer is still one of the "spokesmodels" for the Illinois Lottery? She annoys the daylights out of me. Anyone else know what I am talking about? Linda thinks she is a sex symbol and literally struts, wears clothing that only young women should wear (hooker boots, black nylons, short skirts), and says the stupidest stuff, pontificating instead of simply doing her job! The move she makes at the end of her segment makes me want to jump into my TV and strangle her! I always say, "...and POSE!" when she does this. Grrrr! Just unleash the balls, Kollmeyer. No pun intended!

Why bras aren't more summer friendly? Who needs sweaty boobs in the summer? Can you say "cotton"??

Why certain dog breeds smell so bad? Not Yorkies, of course.

Why I am still a Cubs fan??

Why retired teachers write blogs? Teehee!

Garage Sales

It is the beginning of Spring, and what does that mean? It's the unofficial start to Garage Sale season! Whooohooo! In the past few weeks I have been "shopping" at my niece's garage sale. She was kind enough to let me come "preview" before the masses converge on her beautiful home in unincorporated Elgin. I didn't only shop once, or twice, but instead three times! There is some crazy allure to garage sales, isn't there? Buying someone else's "junque" to add to your "junk"! You know, "someone else's trash is your treasure"? Over the years I have picked up some cool and interesting things at garage sales, and certainly have added to my own junk.

I have been to countless garage sales with my mom - quite an experience, believe me! My mom is the biggest wheeler dealer on the planet - the true Garage Sale Queen. She will not pay full price for any item at a garage sale, even if it's a quarter! No, she wants it for a dime and will bargain with the seller until she gets her way, or she will walk. I cannot tell you how many times I have actually left her in the garage and slithered back to our vehicle, embarrassed beyond belief!! I love how we analyze the items in the sale when we return to our car - the setup/display of the items, the condition of the garage, the quality of the junk we are seeing. What is up with that? It's a flipping garage sale!

Artie and I moved into this home three years ago. I was very proud of myself while purging unwanted/unneeded items from our home in Bartlett before we moved into this house. It felt good to let go of things we didn't use, need, or want any more. Well, that was to be a short lived accomplishment. Moving into a brand new home is a chance to get brand new "stuff". Apparently I have been really good at getting new stuff, because my husband now refers to our basement as "The Store"! He invites guests to shop in our store any time they mention they are looking for some item. Our basement is the holding grounds for the leftover furniture that just doesn't fit in our much smaller house - we lost one bedroom for goodness sakes! While living in our exquisite 15 room Victorian in Janesville, WI we accumulated some amazing pieces of furniture. Well, those amazing pieces just don't seem to have a home here in Elgin, IL...but I just can't part with them! This includes two pieces we purchased from Schuler's Furniture in Janesville - a dry sink and a pie safe - fashioned out of old barn wood. They have a history for goodness sakes! So does the old bench we bought that came out of an old Masonic Lodge in Milton, WI!

Living less than a mile away from a Hobby Lobby store is not good for me...

So, what does this have to do with garage sales you ask? I have decided it is time to purge once again. While searching for something last week in our basement I began to feel a bit anxious, frustrated, nervous, and even claustrophobic. I had to get out of there because my mind was moving in so many places and I didn't know where to begin to search for said item! There is just way tooooo much down there! It is time to let go! If I haven't used most of this stuff in three years, it is time to part with it. It is time to have a garage sale! Ironically, I just got an email from a neighbor who is trying to organize a subdivision sale. The email was my epiphany! I am on board with this. It is time. On June 4 & 5 we will be hosting a Mega Garage Event. I am already pondering its setup - what color tablecloths will I use? I already have the tent my sister in law loaned me in my car, ready to store until the BIG DAY(S).

My friends, mark your calendars for this event. The sale to end all sales! Hobby Lobby/Home Goods/Tuesday Morning/World Market/ and beyond await you. Come buy MY tchotchkes and add it to yours. Empty my basement and fill yours! Artie will be forever indebted to you...and I will be using the proceeds to buy MORE treasures for the next garage sale!

Waiting for the Shoe to Drop

My sister in law Sue inspired me to write this blog with a post on Facebook. So, Sue, here it is...

What a glorious week in terms of weather! I can't believe we had a string of nice days in a row. Being a Midwesterner I cannot help but wait for the proverbial other shoe to drop. As a lifelong Chicagoan/suburbanite, I am "trained" to expect the unexpected with our weather. As I am sitting here writing I see dark rainy looking clouds and I'm OK with it because I expected it! We all know the adage for weather in these parts - if you don't like the weather in Chicago, wait five minutes and it will change. Typically it rains on Good Friday - as a Catholic I always believed (or was told?) it was tears from heaven because Jesus died on the cross. It didn't rain yesterday and it threw me for a loop. But why should it? Expect the unexpected with our weather.

I am a superstitious individual by nature (thanks to my grandmother, who told me soooo many things that encouraged this flaw in me). I try to fight it, but it usually gets the best of me. For example, each time I change out my closet for the impending season, I gulp a little, thinking I have just "jinxed" it. So, beware everyone, because I took out all of my sweaters, corduroy slacks, and sweatshirts...but I didn't yet replace them with my short sleeve tops and capris. Why? Because I just didn't want this beautiful weather to end. But I should know better. It will end. It's April in Chicagoland and that alone does not mean we have Spring weather. I sat through enough frigid soccer and Little League games to know that we are not out of the woods yet.

Yesterday I was at Caribou and the manager and I were talking about how beautiful the weather had been. Yes, it was warm and sunny indeed, but it was also super windy! So many times our beautiful weather has a caveat - humidity, or WIND, as was the case the last few days. We just can't seem to have enough of those "perfect" days that we so deserve - just as compensation for living here! There always seems to be a catch. I think this is why we Chicagoans/suburbanites get so excited when we do have a "perfect" day! It is like winning the lottery - the odds are so not in our favor.

Happy Easter everyone. I hope we have a "perfect" day for egg hunts and baskets. My grandchildren deserve it!

Old Friendships and New Ones Too

We live in a really small world. Friends make it even smaller, no matter where they are, how often you see them, how much time has passed, etc. This week is Spring Break for my District 54 friends. I have had the pleasure of having lunch with two of them on two separate days. It was great to reconnect with them both. Recently I have reconnected with two old college buddies - one at lunch and the other via a phone call and letter from Thailand. My friend Phada Sittivanit was an exchange student at NIU back when I was a sophomore, and through the alum association on Facebook I was able to track her down. NIU sent Phada a letter on my behalf and she called me! All the way from Thailand! She was excited to use her English again, she told me proudly. It didn't seem at all that nearly 35 years had passed since we last spoke to one another. She sent me some photos and only then was I able to come to the realization that, yes, it's been a long time. Phada is in her 60s now, and didn't look quite the same as she did back in 1972...I guess she will think the same when I send HER a photo of me! Her sweet little voice belies the mature woman she is today.

Through another of my cherished friendships with my dearest friend Judy Winer, with whom I began my teaching career at Nathan Hale School back in 1974, I "met" a published author who used to do author visits in Judy's school district in Lincolnwood. Judy was a long time principal and retired a couple years ago. Judy remembered this author and thought she might be of some assistance to me. She gave me her contact information and Charlotte Herman and I have been emailing one another almost daily. She has been an incredible resource for me as I attempt to have my first children's book published. Today she sent me the name of an editor at one of the publishing houses I sent my manuscript to. Charlotte wants to actually meet me when she returns from New York. I don't know her, but I already consider her a friend. She has been so generous and kind to me, and she doesn't even know me from Adam.

I am so lucky in my life. My friend Matt would say I live a "charmed life" and you know what, he is right!

Massage Reflections

I am a very wound up individual (no, really?) and all my stress ends up in my neck, shoulders, and back. It's a Rossi trait (my mom's side). To this end I became a member of Massage Envy. In my opinion, there is nothing like massage. My massage therapist, Jaimie Lynn, has the hands of both an angel and the spawn of Satan. There are times where I am in heavenly bliss and times I want to turn over and let her have it with a barrage of naughty words. Jaimie Lynn always knows where my hurting places are and she attacks them with reckless abandon. There are sometimes more knots on my body than on the mast ropes of Pirate ships.

While under the pleasure (and often pain) of massage I have reflected many times on our Lamaze childbirth classes when I was pregnant with Lindsay. Relaxation is a huge part of Lamaze, as is complete focus. I found that I lack severely in each of those areas. My instructor used to come and sit by Artie and me and lament on how I was unable to relax. She was supposed to be able to lift my arm up and watch it fall limply, because I was supposed to be relaxed. Instead it would stiffen and so would her expression. Artie, who could relax on a bed of nails, was so frustrated with me - he just didn't get my inability to relax, become void of thoughts, listening to soft music, and the soft tones of the instructor' voice. YEAH RIGHT! My mind is never relaxed. I am always solving the problems of the world, thinking of what I needed to do last week, wondering about what I need to do in the weeks ahead, etc. Get it? I cannot relax!

So...when Jaimie Lynn turns down the lights and begins to do her best to work out all of my kinks and knots, I try boldly to concentrate and RELAX. When she's making nice nice I do OK, but when she goes into Hilda the Swedish Sumo Wrestler mode I am thinking about how I want to give her a piece of me! Mind you, her hands are amazing, and I might be exaggerating a bit, but my point is that no matter what, I just can't empty my mind and think of Hawaiian waterfalls, lazing languidly on a beach somewhere, running in slow motion through a field of lavender. Instead I am either thinking of how to get even with her or what I am making for dinner next weekend.

Then there's the music playing in the background. Most of the time it is some Asian sounding music with water running gently in the background. While others find this soothing it makes me feel like getting off the table and running to the bathroom. I don't need any suggestion of urination - I do fine on my own. Sometimes there is pan flute music, which, for me, conjures up images of some toothless Peruvian draped in some serape playing on the streets for money. Most people would be thinking of the lush South American landscape...but not me! On Friday Massage Envy threw in a new one - it sounded like torture music with high pitched sounds that I am sure would set all the dogs of South Elgin to howling. It was annoying to me and of course made me tense - the extreme contradiction to why I am there in the first place.

My final reflection of my massage experience came once again on Friday. Jaimie Lynn was kneading my back and I couldn't help but picture her working in a bakery doing wonders on a blob of bread dough. I nearly laughed out loud because I could even see her face dusted with flour, wearing an apron and a chef hat. Oh, what is wrong with me?

Do you think I should give up my membership??

The Cutest Multi-ethnic Leprechauns

My three beautiful grandchildren are wearin' the green today in celebration of their Irish heritage. Well, you might be thinking, "Zimny isn't an Irish name!" and you would be partly correct. Zimny is a Polish last name. My beautiful grandchildren have three different ethnicities coursing their veins and DNA - they are 1/2 Polish, 1/4 Irish, and of course their best 1/4 is Italian (I am a bit biased, being a "pedigree" Italian). I thought it would be nice to share some pictures of the wee little Polrishtalians wearing their Irish finery. Enjoy!

Spring Tease

The last few days have been incredible! Temps in the 60s and sustained sunshine for the most part. The "spring ahead" turning of the clock forward has now afforded us longer amounts of daylight. I have seen the return of robins and red-winged blackbirds and love hearing their little birdie tweets and twitters outside. I have tulips pushing their way up from the newly thawed ground. Great? Well, yes, except for one thing - having lived in this area my whole life I know this is the annual SPRING TEASE. It just won't last. My mother always told me that March was a crazy month (and she would always add - "Just like the people who are born in it!" - which coincidentally or not, my sister is!) I heard on a weather report the other day that three of our heaviest recorded snowstorms have been in March. So, although I put my heavy sweaters into my "seasonal" closet, I have a little fear that I might need them again. I know I shouldn't have done that, but I was sweating just looking at them hanging in my closet - I just HAD to get them out of there so Spring could begin in earnest.

Oh, what was I thinking?

Friendship At Any Age

In the most unlikely of places, a friend's memorial service, I had an epiphany of sorts. As I looked around at the gathering of friends and former colleagues it occurred to me how blessed I am, once again. I realized that in part due to my chosen profession (teaching) I have friendships with people of all ages. Friendship is a beautiful and cherished part of my life and I think it's just plain cool to have friends in their 20s as well as in their 70s. In education we preach "lifelong learning" all the time. I think having friends, and nurturing those friendships is part of that lifelong learning experience. I learn from my friends all the time. I take from them so much - their thoughts, their opinions, their valuable life experiences.

As a recent retiree, I am the "baby" of our retirees group. I love being part of a group of women who dedicated their lives to helping kids learn. Now I continue to learn during the time I spend with them. We have all grieved recent losses together lately, as well as worrying about and praying for another friend who has been seriously injured in a horrific car accident. Together we learn from one another's life experiences and it bonds us even more. Sure, we might not be "best buddies" but we are friends, and I know that they will be there for me when I need them most.

My young friends keep me in touch with the younger person I used to be. I love living vicariously through them as they experience life's treasured moments - new boyfriend/girlfriend, getting engaged, a wedding, pregnancy, and even loss. I only hope that they can turn to me when they need the "voice of experience" on their side. And I hope that one day they will have the same epihipany that I did because it is a beautiful thing to realize - friendship transcends age.

Precarious Life

I have been in a bit of a funk lately. Four recent events have sent my mind (and heart) into this mindset. First, the death of a dear friend's husband after a long battle with cancer. Second, the loss of another dear friend's husband after several setbacks following heart surgery. Finally, the horrific car accident that has another friend fighting for her life. We all know how life can turn on a dime leaving us breathless at times. The events of the last few weeks have truly taken my breath from me. I have spent so much time worrying for, and feeling sad for these wonderful people who have been dealt so much sorrow and pain.

In the last week I have also learned about another friend's father's struggle with multiple myeloma, cancer of the blood. My friend's brother has taken to writing his thoughts and feelings on a blog. His writing is so powerful and insightful. I know how much writing helps me organize and express my thoughts, but reading this blog literally has me pausing to breathe. It has brought back so many memories of my own father's valiant struggle with cancer, and how helpless my family and I were as he battled to no avail. Mike has put into words everything that cancer is - evil, non-discriminatory, debilitating to all involved (the patient and his/her loved ones), and how the very word "cancer" is the most dreaded word in our language. His writing is his coping mechanism, but it can be everyone's who reads it as well. There is probably not one person alive who has not had to suffer along with someone, or know someone whose life has been touched by this awful disease. Cancer brings out so much anger in me and I wish I could funnel that anger magically into a cure. I wish the world's scientists and doctors would get real angry real soon.

Brennan's First Birthday 2/28/2010

Today my youngest grandson, Brennan James Zimny, turned one year old. I was once again present in the hospital room when Brennan was born. It took a long time for him to decide to leave the comfort of Lindsay's womb. Ironically, Brennan came into the world almost six weeks early and spent way too long in the NICU (neo-natal ICU) at Central DuPage Hospital. He had some difficulty feeding due to his being premature. It killed us to see the feeding tube in his little nose and watch the nurses "inject" his formula into the tube several times a day. He finally figured it out and they let him come home, much to our delight!

Prematurity is a funny thing. You come out early, but then you are delayed by your earliness. Brennan has had to endure wearing a helmet for his torticollis - a weakening of his neck muscles, causing him to favor one side which affected the shape of his head, hence the helmet. More irony - the helmet, which is supposed to help his head and face develop, has actually delayed his development - he is yet to crawl, or want to stand. He loves his bouncer seat and goes crazy in it.

More irony - Brennan was to be the star at his first birthday party today, but instead came down with the stomach flu, as his big brother did nearly six years ago on HIS first birthday. So, the party has been postponed a week. How is this ironic? If a baby wearing one of these helmets gets a fever, the helmet is to be removed for several days. During the helmet-less days Brennan CRAWLED for the first time! He has been rolling to get from point A to point B, because of the weight of that helmet, but
helmet-less he became mobile!

Brennan will get to have his "smash cake" for his first birthday, and his mommy and daddy will take photos of him doing it, but they will be doing it without anyone else present. The stomach flu has made their house a proverbial "virus pool" and no one wants to go near it! Annie got the flu, and John and Lindsay had some stomach unrest as well. The frivolity of a first birthday will have to wait for next weekend. I can't wait to celebrate this very special day in Brennie Boo's life. He is such a trooper!

When Life Gives You Lemons...Go to Galena!

Life can be so interesting. One minute you are up and the next you are down, down, down. For example, a few weeks back Artie told me we were going to Scottsdale, Arizona on a combined business/pleasure mini trip. He was to attend a conference and we were going to go early so we could do a rail trip to the Grand Canyon and visit Sedona. The other fun part of this trip was getting to visit with my niece, Gina, and her family who recently were relocated to Arizona. What made this more fun was that my mom has been visiting with Gina for several weeks and we were going to get to see her too. Well...that was not to be! The conference was canceled due to lack of attendees! This broke my heart. I brooded and pouted for two days. Then, I decided to get out of the "pity pool" and plan an impromptu weekend getaway!

I am an animal and nature lover, mainly because I love what I see through my camera lens. Not long ago I received an email from a friend that highlighted bald eagles nesting in Vancouver, and how some men actually feed the eagles every year about this time to encourage their nesting there. The eagles come back to nest in the same area each February. The photos on this email were amazing! Since I knew we couldn't get away to Vancouver a light bulb went off in my mind and I remembered viewing bald eagles in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. That got the wheels moving. I went online and searched for info about the majestic birds in Prairie du Chien. One thing led to another and I decided we would go to Galena, stay at our favorite place - The Inn at Irish Hollow - and use this as our base for going to Prairie du Chien. While wandering around the town of Galena we decided to check the Visitors' Information Center. The lady who greeted us told us we didn't have to drive all the way to Wisconsin to view the eagles, that Galena had many and they were not far away. She told us exactly where to go to see them - an old abandoned Army station (apparently where bombs and other explosives were made and tested). We took a drive to the site and since it was mid-afternoon had few expectations of seeing the eagles. We did see one mature one as it flew away because we scared it, and one "immature" one, whose photo is attached. I knew this particular bird was a young eagle since it did not yet have its white head. This bird was gracious enough to hang around to let me get some great shots of it. My heart was pounding in my chest I was so excited to be so close to this amazing bird.

This sighting inspired us to make an early morning trip back to the site the next day. Jackpot! We arrived shortly after 10 a.m. when the birds typically are feeding or working on their nests. We were able to see 10 eagles, and the highlight was to see a nesting pair perched together in one tree. Unfortunately they flew away before I could get a photo of them, but just seeing them so close to me was an experience I will remember for a long time to come.

Although it wasn't quite the warmth and ethereal beauty of Arizona, we saw beauty in another form. Winter in Galena is spectacular. The natural beauty of the rolling hills of northwestern Illinois takes on a different type of beauty when snow blankets it. Life gave us lemons, but we did make lemonade. Thank you, Galena, for taking us away and making us so happy. Thank you bald eagles for proving that you are worthy of being our national bird - so graceful, so majestic, and so beautiful.

I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet

I am sure everyone knows we had an earthquake early this morning, 4 a.m. to be exact. This is usually the time my internal clock wakes me up day after day. This morning the quake roused my husband and I at the same time. We both sat up in our bed and just listened. I know that Artie was trying to get his sleepy wits about him while I was sure someone's house had blown up from a gas leak. Then there was a knock at our bedroom door. For a moment I went into a panic because in my sleepy stupor I had forgotten that our son lives with us again. I knew it wasn't robbers, because how many robbers knock? Danny was convinced it was an earthquake, while his father laid back down telling us it was a plow! I jumped up and Danny and I checked out the house and then looked out the front windows to see if any of our neighbors' homes had blown up. Since the noise stopped I felt relatively safe and went back to bed. I was tired enough not to worry about what I didn't know.

I got up around 6:00 and turned on the news. When the newscaster said we had experienced an earthquake and that its epicenter was literally down the road from our house I got scared! Who would have thought we'd have an earthquake after all? Suddenly memories of another quake came flashing back to me. It was my senior year at NIU when my bedroom started shaking, objects on dressers danced and fell off. My room mate and I both jumped into each other's arms and started screaming. Now, being the educated young people we were, what did WE think it was? GHOSTS! We were convinced our apartment was being haunted by some mean spirit or poltergeist (even if we didn't really know what one of those was). Our other two room mates came into our room and the four of us stayed up the rest of the night, unaware that it was an earthquake. Since DeKalb is not that far from today's quake's epicenter, it only made sense that the memory of that night came back to me. I wondered if my room mates thought about it too...

Winter-induced Attention Deficit Disorder

All of this dreadful winter weather, including the threat of 6 to 12 inches of snow today, has my mind on overdrive. Yet the funny thing is that I can't stay focused on any one thing for more than 15 minutes at a time. Is there such a thing as Winter-induced A.D.D.? I find myself chasing my proverbial tail when I am stuck inside the house as I am today. I don't think I can watch another episode of Martha Stewart doing yet another Valentines Day craft, post another Facebook comment, or get upset when the contestant doesn't do well on "Deal or No Deal". I have STACKS of books to read but I can't get into the mood to devote the time to reading. What is wrong with me? I have been cooking like a madwoman too! Am I turning into a housefrau in my retirement? Argghhhh! I hope not! What next - HOUSE DRESSES like my grandma used to wear?? Noooooooooooo!!!!!!

Being home more than I've been in 27 plus years I have seen way toooooo many commercials. One in particular drew the ire out of my Mediterranean blood. It is the one advertising foreclosed homes. It is a peppy, excitable commercial showing some sort of auction and suggesting that the bad economy can be good for YOU. All I think about when I see this is the poor family whose home has been foreclosed, and listening to a way-too-excited announcer tell people about the great deals they can get because of someone's misfortune. Shame on them. And, for those of you in the Chicago area, do any of you (besides me) want to find Peter Francis Geraci and punch him out? If he were the last lawyer/debt counselor on the planet he would not get my business. I will look for someone who doesn't have a girl's name for a middle name! Shark!

How about the furniture store that has people dancing around? Do they realize how stupid they look? These people are getting paid to look stupid. Maybe that should be my new gig - dancing on a Value City Furniture commercial.

Winter is making me crabby...

Amore

I am attaching a clip from one of my favorite blogs - Ciao Italia - again. There is a reason I am doing this. Her post brought back some awesome memories of our first trip to Italy, which included a visit to the Trevi Fountain in Rome. Here is the clip and my comments will follow:

"Cupid takes aim with his arrow this month febbraio (February), and love is in the air. Can you feel it? And while roses, sentiments, and chocolate occupy our minds and drain our wallets as we honor those we love and cherish, it is always Valentines Day in Italy; it just goes by another name, amore.

By nature, Italians are very affectionate people. Just look at the way they greet each other with a kiss not on one cheek but both. And passion is always a public display at outdoor ristoranti and in just about every piazza.

One of the best places to show affection, or dream of receiving it is at the Trevi Fountain in Rome (Fontana di Trevi). It was built in the 18th century and the central figure of the fountain is Neptune, the sea god. He rides a chariot in the shape of a shell that is pulled by sea horses.

Millions of visitors from all over the world converge at this massive marble masterpiece to throw coins into the fountain and wish away their secret desires. But if you go to see the fountain, make sure your wish comes true by tossing your coin in the proper manner. Legend tells us that you will return to Rome if you throw a coin over your shoulder with your back to the fountain. Now that’s amore."

Our first visit to Italy followed a week of visiting friends in the London area, and attending Danny's soccer tournament as well. Flashback 1995. We (me, Artie, Lindsay and Danny) enjoyed the crazy week of sightseeing through London, Bath, and other little hamlets, and attending soccer games. Following the tournament we caught the ferry across the English Channel to Calais, France. We were catching a tour that would cram sojourns to five countries in one week. We literally had to ask one another when we woke up what country we were in! Lindsay was 18 and pining away for her then boyfriend, and Danny had his 15th birthday while in Monaco. Neither of our kids appreciated the trip as much as Artie and I did. So, why the post on the Trevi Fountain? This was my first trip to Italy, the land of my ancestors, and I couldn't have been more excited. One of my "goals" was to be pinched - not pick-pocketed, the kind of pinch made by someone's fingers on your booty. As we visited various cities and towns in Italy I was disappointed that the pinch hadn't happened. Lindsay was pinched while visiting the Piazzo Navana and she was apalled, grossed out, disgusted. I told her to lighten up, that "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" as they say. My pinch still evaded me. But then it happened! While visiting the Trevi Fountain on a beautiful summer night in Rome a young Italian man pinched my bottom. I beamed from ear to ear. Mission accomplished!

One other memory of note at the Trevi Fountain was the traditional coin toss to ensure a return to Rome. None of the people on our tour knew exactly which shoulder to throw the coin over. We all laughed about it, but I, being the superstitious being that I am, really wanted to make sure a return to Rome was in my future. So, I tossed two coins - one over each shoulder. I have not been back to Rome...what did I do wrong?

Winter Sucks

Is the sun ever going to shine again in this part of the world? I am such a sun-driven person and all of this cloudiness and gloom is making me crankier than ever. Yeah, OK, it was warmer, but who cares? I would much rather have snow cover than have to look at all of Guinness' poop that has surfaced (bless Artie's house, he cleaned up about 5 pounds of it) and our Christmas lights that need to come down. Now they are screaming for me to remove them. Yesterday I found a newspaper from December 8th that had been buried under the snow mound in front next to our driveway. I got a kick out of that for some reason. It is snowing lightly right now, which is fine with me. I detest the brown smashed grass that we have to look at for months, choosing to live in the Midwest. Being cooped up in the winter is not good for me. Being retired and cooped up is even worse! I have tooooo much time to look around and see things that I want to do. I get soooo bored with things in the winter. My "To Do" list is growing daily. I have already "redone" the guest bath somewhat, and yesterday we moved Artie's home office into the living room. Luckily we had our pack mules, Danny and John, to do the moving of heavy furniture. Now we await the installation of French doors for the new office space. His old office will now be another much-needed guest room now that our boomerang boy came back to live at home. This is great because it gives me TWO new canvases to work on! If only I had an unlimited amount of cash...

What's in a Name?

Many of you who follow my blog, or have read bits and pieces of it, know that one of my pet peeves is when words are mispronounced or misspelled (you can take the teacher out of the classroom, but you can't take the classroom out of the teacher). While I was perusing one of my favorite blogs today, Ciao Italia, I found an older post by the author of it, Mary Ann Esposito, whose image graces this post, and it just tickled my fancy. This mispronunciation of Italian foods drives my mom crazy too...OK, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Read Mary Ann's post and enjoy it as much as I did - and the next time you order any of these foods pronounce them CORRECTLY and then wait for the server to correct YOU! I always re-correct them. I just have to.

What's In A Name
I wish I had a nickel for every time a wait staff person lets me know that one of the specials of the day is ”brushetta.” I just bite my lower lip and then politely say: “You mean bruschetta?” Bruschetta (pronounced brew-SKEH-tah, not brew-SHEH-tah) is simply fried, grilled or toasted bread that has a number of possible toppings from chicken livers to chopped tomatoes.

You can find recipes for the classic ones, like Bruschetta with Fried Peppers, at www.ciaoitalia.com/recipes.aspx

Farro (Fah-Row) is another classic example of bad pronunciation in restaurants claiming to be Italian. Farro is a nutritious wheat berry making a gourmet comeback and is a grain used in soups, stews and salads. But please don’t pronounce it like PHARAOH. You can find recipes using this grain on the web site as well.

In the pasta realm, gnocchi (gnaw-key) is a tough one for many not familiar with this delicious dumpling usually made from potatoes. It is often referred to as "no-key" or "knock-key".

And then of course there is espresso, known here as "ex-presso".

Fortunately everyone seems to know how to pronounce "Ciao" (chow).

Catholics Come Home?

This may insult some of you who are reading this, so accept my apology right off the bat. Is anyone else bothered by the new "Catholics Come Home" commercials? I certainly am. As a fallen Catholic myself I find nothing in those ads that makes me want to "come home". In fact it is the subliminal and typical Catholic guilt that surfaces for me when I watch them - one of the many reasons I have become a stray. The reason many people have left the church, as I see it, is it has repeatedly failed to move forward with the times. The church has seen many scandals involving priests which has added to the exodus. Are these sappy commercials supposed to put a bandaid over the many shortcomings of the Catholic church? Is seeing a girl shooting up and then having an epiphany supposed to make me want to race into my local church and beg to be let in? Is seeing a domestic abuser watching his past unfold before him, as tears drip from his eyes, make me want to be forgiven for all my (and his) sins? I don't think so. I think it's pitiful and even a little shameful that the Catholic church feels the need to advertise faith. Isn't that a bit sinful?

Napping at the Hemmens

Yesterday we went to the Hemmens Auditorium in Elgin to see guest conductor Tania Miller lead performances featuring the symphonies of Ravel, Brahms & Shostakovich. Some friends had free tickets and asked us to join them, which we happily agreed to do. Artie and I were subscribers a couple years ago and enjoyed the performances by this amazing local symphony very much. Except for one thing...I always fall asleep during the performances! Each and every time we have been at the Hemmens to watch the ESO perform I fall asleep. Yesterday's performance held even more embarrassment for me because I actually commented to Artie as we took our seats that we were among the youngest people in the auditorium. When I looked around I thought we had accidentally gone to Del Webb's Edgewater clubhouse. There were so many elderly, white-haired folks in that auditorium that it tickled me a bit to feel so youthful...

Ha ha ha!? The laugh was on me! As I struggled to stay awake during the third "set" of Brahms, it occurred to me that none of the old folks around me looked like they were battling to stay awake. Not even the most geriatric ones in the house. They were all bright-eyed and busy-tailed compared to my war with my drooping eyelids!! Now, I have rationalized to myself that the reason I fall asleep is that orchestral symphonies are so beautiful, peaceful, and serene that it comforts me and lulls me to relaxation. What else could it be?? Staying up until after midnight on Saturday night? The "stress" of being retired? Huh? I was doing the head-bob thing and tried so hard not to let our friends see me doing so. Fortunately their seats were across the aisle from ours and their view was obscured by another couple. I also didn't want Artie to notice since he always teases me when I fall asleep during the symphony.

I think it's awesome the way life seems to humble me every time I get too smug...