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Showing posts from June, 2013

The Benefits of Retirement

1.You get to be the boss of you.
2. Ditch the alarm clock.  On those rare occasions you need one, use the one on your iPhone.
3.No more dreading Mondays or looking forward to hump days.  Your weekends and holidays will be truly your own and not time you have to spend on work related deadlines.
4.No more government briefs, work guides, and data charts.  You get to learn and develop, read and write what YOU want.
5.Every day is casual Friday or wear-your-jeans-to-work day. Throw in there an occasional day where you spend it all in your pajamas or rattiest sweats out of love and respect for all your friends who can’t.
6.While you are at it, redo your closet and get rid of all constricting and confining clothes and shoes.  You don’t have to be athletic to shop in the athletic department; buy yoga pants, sensible sneakers, and sports bras in protest against all the years you spent stuffed into suits and stilettos. 
7.You will not only save $$$ on your simplified wardrobe, but also on car main…

The Shame of Crones

Honestly, there are times when a mother’s job is done and she should step back and let her grown sons go about their own business.
Did anyone else notice that if Catelyn Tully Stark had stayed home weaving those wreaths she made out of vines, twigs, and feathers and defended Winterfell, instead of traipsing all over the Seven Kingdoms and acting like the self-proclaimed Hand of the King to her son Robb, Season Three of Game of Thrones would have ended on a much happier note?
Once widowed, she and Jon Snow could have easily protected their castle against the traitor and womanizer Theon, but she lets her husband’s bastard son go off to The Wall and she follows Robb, leaving her little sons in charge of a castle - defenseless.  Just what was she thinking?  
Bran and Rickon were left homeless, Arya  ping ponged all over the north struggling to find her mommy and big brother, and Sensa (the weeniest Stark of all) was foisted from one Lannister to another at King’s Landing (though Tyrion is a…

Mi Papa Abuelo

My paternal grandfather passed away when I was two and a half, but I still remember him.  If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can hear his voice. He spoke in polite Spanish with everyone, the kind of Spanish one uses to show respect.  He used it with me also.
He wasn’t warm and fuzzy like my dad, but he wasn’t gruff or cold either though he was known to be stern.  Not with me. 
Others, even his grown children, hesitated before approaching him casually, but I was too young to be afraid of him and would crawl onto his lap.  I would ask him questions and he would smile and answer me.
We lived nearby and would go visit him and Mama Abuela every weekend.  He had property out in the country where he raised livestock but lived in town and kept one or two horses, maybe one cow in the corral next to his house. I would walk alongside him whenever he went out in the yard to check on them.
I remember owning a pair of red cowboy boots which he thought were pretty amazing.  I had on a little sun …

Crouching Tiger-Family

I had no desire to visit China.  Give me Italy, Spain, England any day.  I want to travel but to a country where I recognize the food and speak the language. I want to eat with a fork and a knife, and I do not want to squat to do my business. (At my age, I am not a very agile crouching tiger.)
It has been one year since my husband HoneyBunch and I spent seventeen days in China, and I can now look back and not hold it against him anymore.
It’s not that I didn’t like China; it just wasn’t on any of my bucket lists.  And though he may deny it, it wasn’t on any of his.  I distinctly remember taking him to a travel presentation where he went all Kung Fu Panda on the sales agent. The poor man was talking about the sites we would visit in China and the history we would learn, and HB said some pretty ugly things about Mao and Communism.
Needless to say, my husband and I didn’t stay for the slide presentation of Tuscany.
What changed HB’s mind?  Why did we spend our trip-to-Italy money on a sev…