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??