Great Island Redemption

George was reading my post, The Best Thing About Getting Older, when we were startled by, "whaaaaat the fliiiiip, mom! Great Island is a peninsula. How can you call it a zit!"

"It's a bump in the bay, isn't it?, I ask.

"A peninsula is surrounded on three sides by water! Don't you know geography?"

George brings Ernie in to read what I wrote about their beloved Great Island.

"A zit! How can you call it that. A zit is ugly and if you squeeze it, it bursts".

"Well, if it sounds ugly, people won't go there and you can have it all to yourselves", I said, trying to redeem myself and rationalize with the irrational and not laugh.

The phone rang and the zit was forgotten. Ernie and George normally don't read my writing, but I expect they will look in now and then, to check for accuracy.

Not the D Word - Again!

I passed a double wide, full length mirror yesterday and gasped. "Who is that woman and, um, - - she looks like me."

Oh, yawn, it's diet time again.

Picture an 'Italian' Thanksgiving featuring antipasti, Nanny's broccoli salad with chunks of garlic and lemon and olive oil from the family olive grove in Avella, Italy. The turkey, the centerpiece, sits humbly upon the table between the homemade manicotti and sauteed eggplant. Amazing Italian pastries from Brooklyn finish the meal followed by a long and loud polka game.

Chew on this: what do you hear from diners when fruit or jello is presented for dessert? What do you hear when chocoloate volcano cake or a well piped cannoli are presented?

Which do you prefer?

Some believe that no food left over is a sign that the guests enjoyed the meal. My mother and grandmother believe that no food left over is a sign that there wasn't enough food.

Some overweight people are simply victims of gluttony and others, me, are victims of a simple formula: GOOD MEMORIES + GOOD FOOD = PERIODIC EPISODES OF ASKING, "WHO IS THAT WOMAN and, um, she looks like me!

I better go and do my crunches now, while I'm in the mood.

The Pageant Game - Go Team

Scheduled to showcase her talent, Middle Eastern Dancing ( I say Belly Dancing) , Jennifer, George and I hung out near the free munchies, observing, as folks arrived to meet the lovely and poised Miss Greater Berks County.

My interviews were complete with the articulate Miss GBC, her personal appearance coach, her parents, and a sponsor. I really wanted to go home, but not before getting photos of the dancer and her costume.

Thank you, Jennifer, for being my photographer, which freed me to spend all my money on smoothies and wraps, while still enjoying the free munchies!

The exotic clarinet from the CD player announced the long awaited moment to see the dance of our Miss Pennsylvania contestant. The CD player was distorting the music and this was a small cafe with little room to dance. It was a poor performance, but Jenn's pictures were good.

When the photos are published, no one will know if the dancing was good or bad. They will know that their small town sweetheart who is vying for Miss Pennsylvania and ultimately Miss America knows Middle Eastern Dance.

If she is crowned Miss Pennsylvania, the pageant handlers will perfect the dance and enlist a personal trainer.

Think of this: when you watch a Miss America pageant, isn't it exciting if your "state" makes the top 10 or higher? It's like a sports event, but gentle, lovely, and intelligent.

Now it's time to write the article. Everyone in town will want to read it.

The best thing about getting older

Summertime is busy. We attend one or two rodeos, the traditional week in Wellfleet, the week in Maine at Mom's, and if we're really organized we squeeze in one or two nights of camping. Ernie and George voluntarily camp every year in February or March. This year they camped on Great Island, located in Wellfleet Bay, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Great Island is not a real island because it is connected to the mainland. It's really a very large zit on the face of the bay. That description defies the tranquility of the place.

Reaching the island requires a one mile hike through sand.

Ernie and George carried their gear out to Great Island for one night of camping. They carefully prepared their campfire because this spot is woodsy, dry and windy. Camping and campfires are probably not allowed, but that doesn't bother my two guys.

I love sleeping in a tent, but I'm not very flexible. The best time to camp is in autumn when the evenings are cool and the days are brisk. It is irksome to me that school reopens as I become energized! I love autumn.

So, a good thing about getting older is that in four years, when George graduates, we'll be free to enjoy my favorite time of year.

The very best thing about getting older, is discovering the good things about getting older.

Graduation blues

OK. School's almost over. How do I know? Sleeping bodies that do not respond to calls to wake up. Why? I've been informed by one of these bodies, when it was in a somewhat conscious state, that it's done with school. "What about the final exam for calculus?", I ask. "mumble, mumble", or something sounding like that is the response.

Senioritis has held this sweet son in its' firm grip for months. Graduation information is locked up somewhere in his magnificent brain and overstuffed backpack. I'm aware of the calculus final by accident. He didn't mention it to inform me, it merely slipped from his mouth.

The scissors are gently gnawing on the tough apron strings. Does anyone know when, where and what time graduation is?

Writing a story is like crocheting an afghan-both take forever to finish

Everything I see and do urges me to write. The trip to Italy with my mother will be a humorous travel essay. My recent trip to Spain and Italy with my daughter inspires a story that will weave a thread of cultural observations, budget travel, and adventure through a story of a mother-daughter evolving relationship.

The "Drafts" folder on my desk is voluminous. The fictional Mayoral race in Pine Maple, Vermont and the magazine article about small family reunions are near completion.

At this moment, I may never be published, but I'll leave behind some mega-folders of 1st, 2nd and 3rd drafts!