Category Archives: personal

Musings at the Beginning of a Stressful Week

So I was all happy to be on eight hour days (at least for a day), because it gives me time in the morning to get a blog post written. And then I sit staring at the blank page, wishing I had brought a book to read.

Oh, I KNOW some of you saw that coming (and don’t the rest of you just hate know-it-alls?). It is a well known fact of writing that sometimes when you thing everything is ideal to Write, nothing comes out.

Ooh, ooh, it looks like I’ve backed into a Monday Middle-aged Musing. The problem is I’ve mused this before. Can I possibly think of anything new and different to say about it? A fresh insight. An enhanced perspective (and I don’t even have my thesaurus with me). The answer is I’ll never know, because I don’t remember what I said about it before. I haven’t the means to check that here and now as I write this. I will not have time later.

Actually, I have another musing to (I hope) entertain you with: I would make an outstanding homeless person. The more of my stuff I am carting around with me, the more comfortable I am. I think I would be quite content pushing around a grocery cart filled with all my worldly possessions.

Of course, I would have to get rid of about 90% of those possessions in order to fit everything in a grocery cart. Maybe I could get a Mary Poppins grocery cart (you know that scene in the movie where she reaches her whole arm into her bag and pulls out a coat rack, among other things).

The reason I think of this is that I may be going wine tasting this weekend with my family (some of the female members, at least). I may be spending the night before at Mom and Dad’s house, which obviously requires some packing. However, even if it was only a day trip, I am quite incapable of just grabbing my purse and going.

I must bring my notebook. And a book to read. Perhaps a change of shoes (although in a pinch, I can do without that). I will be happier if I bring my awesome large thermos with coffee. And a travel mug to drink said coffee. I want my crochet. I probably won’t crochet while riding to the wineries (I am emphatically not the designated driver), but I’ll want it at Mom and Dad’s house the night before. And at Diane’s house afterward.

I guess you could say I’m high maintenance. I could do some more musing on high maintenance people, but I kind of need to keep my posts short this week. I have rehearsal and a board meeting and exercise and a plethora of things to do to prepare for Saturday. In fact, I’ve said too much already (some may think I’ve said too much by having a blog at all, but I tend to doubt they are my regular readers).

Stay tuned as my stress level increases, or decreases if I actually manage to cross things off my list of stuff to do (ooh, cross off “write and type in Monday’s blog post.” Yes!).

Dog Day Sunday

There were at least three previews of coming attractions in yesterday’s post. Well, they’re still to come. Today is Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

I normally go to the grocery store on Sunday. However, today I stayed home with a sick dog. Poor pooch. She did not want to go for a long walk, so I can’t make a pedestrian post. She’s feeling better now, but rain looks imminent. My dog does not like to go for a walk in the rain.

I spent some time this morning cleaning and doing laundry. I know I did a cleaning post once, after previously threatening to do so. Alas, my adventures in housework today were less than blogworthy.

Eventually my headache and nausea (did I mention the dog wasn’t the only one feeling ill?) got the better of me. I sat down in front of the television with my knitting. Unfortunately, it was not to watch a cheesy horror movie. I don’t have the mental energy to write a post about a cheesy horror movie anyways (I did mention it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday).

One memorable event: When Steven came home from work, we went to the Stables, home of Ilion Little Theatre, to check out the progress on his set. In case anyone forgot or never knew, Steven is directing Dirty Work at the Crossroads, although he is incapable of building his own set. So far so good. Tabby liked it. I’m only sorry I don’t know how to post a photo. And that I don’t have the right kind of camera to take a photo. Future improvements to work towards.

I see that I am over 250 words. A respectable length for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I think. I’ll work on some of those coming attractions.

Finally Back to Running

Running Commentary is back, at least for today.

I had started running again in February, but I allowed myself to be discouraged by the weather, which turned cold and snowy. And I gave in to my discouragement. This is what I reflected on partway through my run: I gave in to discouragement. It is difficult to avoid feeling discouraged at times, but we must carry on. And I don’t mean cry and carry on, but I’ve done that too.

Be that as it may, I didn’t get to run till this afternoon, largely because I had made a plan to go shopping with my sister, Cheryl. We wanted to purchase new outfits to wear when we go wine tasting next weekend (preview of coming attractions). As often happens when I try on clothes, I felt fat. But I found a wicked good bargain at a consignment store in New Hartford, NY (another preview of coming attractions).

I figured, no problem, shop in the morning, run in the afternoon. It’ll be warmer in the afternoon anyways. It was supposed to get up to almost 60. Woohoo!

When I got home it was time for lunch, so I ate. Then I remembered that HALO (Helping Animals Live Organization) was having their trash to treasures sale till four. I had to help out the kitty-cats, so I hurried down (yet another preview of coming attractions).

And was very annoyed that it was STILL cold! What’s that all about? The sun was bright, but the wind was mean. I felt very ill-used.

Still, feeling fat is some motivation. Also, there is a 5K May 4 for Spring Farm Cares I kind of said I would run in (yes, another preview of coming attractions). Feeling a little sad not to put on shorts and a short-sleeved t-shirt, I found some long johns and a long-sleeved Army t-shirt that is good to run in. For one thing, it is long enough to cover my butt, which nobody needs to see.

The long johns are white with pink and blue flowers. I like to wear them under skirts. Then I can say to people, “You wanna see my underwear? Woowoo!” Lifting my skirt over one knee. Always gets a laugh.

So I set out. It wasn’t too bad in the sun. I thought I should remember this in a couple months when I’ll be trying to run entirely in the shade. Ah, perspective. At least the sidewalks were completely bare and dry. Let us always be thankful when we can.

I ran the hill by Valley Health. And said hello to a fellow in a cool cowboy hat headed towards his car. He said hi. Coming down the hill, I waved at a phone company guy in a cherry picker on his way down from doing something to the wire. He said hello. I do like to greet people.

There is a light where the street whose name escapes me (where I ran up the hill) crosses German. Would it stay red? Would it turn green? Would that big truck heading towards it wait if it did turn green? These moments of suspense add to the enjoyment of my run. The truck turned right, making the debate a moot point, and the light stayed red with no further traffic in sight.

I ran by the high school, then thought to go down the street near the athletic fields. Unfortunately, I saw a group of young people on that street near their cars (it is kind of parking area as well as a street). I thought about my flowered long johns and went another way.

My run ended up lasting 30 minutes. Since I had not run in about a month, I thought that was pretty bold. More importantly, it proved I can run a 5K. At least, at the rate I was going, it would no doubt take me longer to run five kilometers. However, if I can run 30 minutes, I can run 40. I just won’t stop.

A Lame Brand of Rotten

It has been a rotten day. And a rotten blogging day as well. I spent the day enduring one petty annoyance after another, most of them caused by myself, which of course makes it worse. They were all petty! None of them were funny! And I don’t feel like writing about them!

But here is what I did write at work, little realizing I was only at the beginning of my travails:

I am so mad at myself. I left the house this morning saying, “I feel like I’ve forgotten something,” and, what do you know, for once I did. My stupid purse! Because I’m stupid!

I know, there is no point in jumping to global conclusions about my mental capacities just because of one little brain fart. But still.

So there’s my random observation for this Lame Post Friday: I’m stupid. and my half-baked philosophy as well: no point in jumping to conclusions. I guess I’m done.

I’ll just add my usual explanation for the benefit of new readers (if any) and old readers who may have forgotten (I don’t expect people to keep track of ALL my silliness) that Lame Post Friday is the day I indulge in random observations and half-baked philosophy.

That was all I managed to write while at work. My day went downhill from there as I continued to make stupid mistakes and suffer petty grievances, none of which rate mentioning here. I mean, it’s one thing to suffer one stupid problem after another when you know you are going to at least get a humorous blog post out of it. Not today. It was a lame bad day.

More Dirty Work

I believe I’ve mentioned some of drama surrounding Dirty Work at the Crossroads, the play my husband is directing for Ilion Little Theatre (drama in the theatre? Say it ain’t so!). Well, the latest update includes good news and bad news and good news.

The good news is we have a hero. A young man was referred to us by a former president of the group (who, by the way, would have made a dandy hero himself but is too busy with work and family commitments). So far our new hero has been at one rehearsal (which I was not at), and Steven thinks he’s going to work out just fine.

I’ve heard good reports about him from others, too. My friend Phyllis says he’s a real nice guy. She told me her son said there was just one thing against him. I thought, “What? He can’t take direction. He’s a know-it-all. He says ‘um’ a lot.”

“He’s a Washington Redskins fan,” Phyllis said.

“The whole thing comes to a grinding halt,” I declared, with gestures. I was just kidding. I don’t even know what sport they were talking about.

I don’t know if any of your civilians know what it is like trying to cast a community theatre play when not enough people show up at auditions. It is stressful. Some people are very helpful with suggestions. But then you have to contact the people they suggested. And wait for them to get back to you. And get them the script. And let them read it. And think about it. And then they have to get back to you. All the while you are in suspense. The clock is ticking. Rehearsals have started. Opening night is imminent. What will happen?

So it was a great load off our shoulders when we got our hero.

And then we lost our French Maid. A very short time before Tuesday’s rehearsal, Steven got the email. Another disaster!

I actually had a few helpful suggestions right away, but Steven was not in the mood for helpful suggestions. Sometimes one just needs a little space to throw one’s hands in the hair and say, “This really sucks!” I continued my activities of getting dressed and making my blog post.

Eventually Steven said to me, “Can we just write the character out?”

It is a small part. Two little scenes, one of which I am in. I looked at my script.

“Sure,” I said. “Instead of, ‘Fleurette, inquire of that yokel yonder,’ I’ll say, ‘I shall inquire of that yokel yonder.'” I showed him a couple other small changes. “I can totally rock this.”

The other scene was a little more complicated. It is just Fleurette and Mookie (the aforementioned yokel).

“We’ll make it Mookie and Leonie,” I suggested. “I’ll write a few lines. This can work.”

We went to rehearsal feeling better. We had some time at the theatre before rehearsal started (a good director always gets there early), so I sat down and whipped off the Mookie/Leonie scene. Of course, I was all kinds of pleased with myself after that.

So we began rehearsal with me verbally coaching Mookie and Leonie through the modified scene. We intended to skip the new scene. I would email the actors their lines before the next rehearsal.

Then we realized Fleurette has another little scene we had forgotten about. Oops! This turned out to be less of a problem than it seemed at first, due largely to the fact that the play is a melodrama. It is completely acceptable for actors to address the audience, themselves, or the ambient air. It was easy to change the dialogue into a monologue, and not too long a one for the actor to learn.

So that was our week in Dirty Work. We solved one problem, confronted another, solved that one. Bring on the next problem! I’ll write about it here.

Mums for Mom at Candella’s

I was going to title this one “Mum’s the Word,” but thought it would be unbearably punny.

Saturday my adventures took me to New Hartford. OK, I guess they weren’t very adventurous, but I can’t seem to find the word I’m looking for. Activities? Perambulations? Gyrations? Leads are hard.

Be that as it may, I went home the long way through Whitesboro (or is it Whitestown? Ought to know these things) and Marcy. This made it handy to stop at Candella’s Farm and Greenhouse on River Road, where I hoped by buy a plant for my mother for Easter.

I was immediately greeted by a mother and daughters (at least, they looked like family) and asked if I needed help. I told them I wanted a plant for my mother, preferably something she could later plant outdoors if she wanted to.

I admired a beautiful lily in an unusual shade of pink. The lady said Mom could plant it outdoors but it required a sheltered area without too much direct sunlight. I mentally reviewed Mom and Dad’s lawn. Then I considered some hyacinths. Since I’m Cynthia, I thought a hyacinth would be nice (get it?). I got her a nice pink one a couple of years ago, which I foolishly left on my kitchen table. Mom told me to go ahead and plant it in my own yard and she could enjoy it there when she visits.

The lady also showed me a mum of a new color. She said she had good luck with mums. I liked the look of those but picked an “old” color of burgundy with yellow centers.

Mom was pleased with her present, and I was pleased with my experience at Candella’s. As spring slowly arrives, I’ll have several choices of places to purchase plants for my own yard. I hope to hit them all. I’d better buy a new pair of gardening gloves.

Candella’s is located at 9256 River Rd., Marcy, NY. Phone number is 315-736-9792. You can visit their website at http://www.candellasfarm.com/ or you can Like them on Facebook.

A Not Lamentable Supper

Usually when I do a cooking post, I have cooked something unusual or made up a new recipe. However, I enjoyed tonight’s supper so much, I feel it deserves a blog post.

Steven had to work till 5:30 this evening and he had rehearsal at seven for Dirty Work at the Crossroads (the show he is directing for Ilion Little Theatre; perhaps you read some of my blog posts about it) (I have a small but pivotal role). Being a dedicated director, he planned to be at the theatre by 6:30.

“I’ll just grab something,” he said, when I asked him what he wanted to do for supper.

As 5:30 approached, I couldn’t help noticing there was not a lot to just grab in our refrigerator or pantry. We had some Heidelberg bread left over from Easter dinner (we left some for Mom and Dad and brought the rest home. Love that Heidelberg bread!). If we had some deli meat, which we often do, I could have made him a sandwich and had done with. No luck. We had some mozzarella cheese. I could make grilled cheese sandwiches.

The question was did we have any tomato soup. It is perfectly possible to eat a grilled cheese sandwich without tomato soup, but the last time we did, Steven lamented the lack of soup. I wanted him to go to rehearsal happy. Ah, we had the soup. Did we have enough milk, because tomato soup made with water is, again, lamentable. Yes!

I got the soup on. I sliced the cheese. It wouldn’t do to start the sandwiches too early. Of course it would be nice for Steven to walk in the door and hear me say, “Oh, supper is just about ready, sit down!” However, for Steven to walk in to me scraping black grilled cheese sandwiches out of the frying pan would be — you know, it’s a very good word — lamentable.

Of course he was late getting home. I threw the sandwiches on while he changed into his jeans. They didn’t take long. When they were done I cut each one into four slices, for better dipping.

I must say, it was a very satisfying supper. No doubt the Heidelberg bread deserves the credit. Can I just say: YUM! Still, I had to feel a little pleased with myself for thinking of it. And I hope that as a blog post, it was not too lamentable.

Briefly, About the Bread

I was going to have the nerve to write Yet Another Post About Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Then I realized I didn’t have anything to say but the first sentence about having some nerve. Instead, I will give yet another shout out to some of the best bread in the world.

I am, as usual, at my mom and dad’s house for the holiday (Easter) (for any wise-ass who just said “Duh!” I put it in case somebody reads the post at a later day and wonders. Sheesh!). My mom always cooks a veritable feast, and it is hard to know what I can contribute. Ever since I moved to Herkimer, NY, it is no problem. I just drive out to the Heidelberg Bakery and get some awesome bread.

I drove out Rt 28 shortly after 7 a.m., when they open on Saturday. I wanted to beat the crowd. I guess I should have beaten the crowd another day, because they were out of my favorite, Sourdough. However, I chose Pumpernickel, 100% Whole Wheat and Multi-Grain (they were having a three-for special) and was happy with that. Then I turned my attention to the baked goodies.

I guess I don’t want to say too much about the baked goodies, though, because Steven and I have already eaten those. In case anybody who is at Mom and Dad’s for dinner reads this, they might be jealous. Then again, anybody who reads this who is not at Mom and Dad’s might be jealous not to have any of Mom’s good dinner. Sorry; I can’t please everybody.

I can, however, keep my post short, because today is Easter. I’m going to enjoy the holiday. I hope you are, too.

Just Another Pedestrian Post

Saturday Running Commentary does not return this week. However, I took a fairly lengthy stroll with my schnoodle, Tabby, and I will write about that.

Regular readers (Hi, Rachel!) know I have not been feeling well lately. Felt like crap Wednesday. A little better Thursday, so took a walk with Tabby. It’s important to walk your dog. For one thing, they like to go for walks. Felt worse Friday (perhaps you read my blog post about it). Felt a little better today. Took a walk.

I went early, before things had warmed up much. Still, the sun was bright. I hoped for the best. I wore my crazy old lady hat. It has a wide brim for shade. I’ve been wearing this large kind of lined windbreaker with huge pockets lately. I got it for three bucks on the clearance rack at Wal-Mart some years ago. I mention it, because I put my prescription sunglasses in the pocket along with a couple of poop bags and the house keys. I didn’t used to lock the door when we went for a walk, but I feel times have changed.

I wanted my sunglasses right away. Some people just wear the sunglasses for a walk and deal with it when the sun goes behind a cloud. I’m kind of funny about that. I’d rather put up with the inconvenience of carrying around the glasses and changing them. I spent about half a block wondering if this makes me a truly weird person. Then I just enjoyed the walk.

We started down German Street and went for three blocks. Tabby stopped and sniffed at as many of the trees and posts as I would let her. I was indulgent, because, after all, the walk was for her entertainment, too. It was early enough that the side of the street we were on was quite shady. That will be a delightful thing in a few months. This morning it was cold. Too much traffic to cross the street easily, so I put up with it. Tabby didn’t seem to mind.

Eventually we turned down the little path that used to be a hydraulic canal. We love that path. It will be even nicer when the grass is green. As we turned onto a residential street, I noticed some crocuses and other flowers sprouting up in people’s yards. Wonderful sight! I reminded myself to check for my own crocuses when we got home.

Two dogs coming from the opposite direction across the street started barking at Tabby and pulling on their leashes. She was absorbed in sniffing a pole and ignored them. Their person pulled on the leashes and told them to behave. Tabby continued her important sniffing. A small group of people walking down the road seemed to be amused by the contretemps.

It was pleasantly warm in the sun as long as the wind wasn’t blowing. Unfortunately the breeze kept picking up and my ears got a little cold in my hat. Not bad enough for me to pull my hood up and really look like a crazy old lady, though.

When we got home I looked for crocuses. None, front or back! I was sad about that. Every year I think I will put down more bulbs in the fall and every fall I forget till the snow flies. Still, I usually get a few blooms from the original bulbs Steven and I planted our first fall in the house. Perhaps they will yet make an appearance. I’ll keep you posted.

A Sick Day with Georgette

Yesterday when I kind of combined Non-Sequitur Thursday with Lame Post Friday, I had thought I was going to find some good, blogworthy topic to write about on Friday (today). After all, I didn’t have to go to work. I had big plans of things to do. The sky was the limit!

Oh, man, I’ve been sick. It started Wednesday with extreme light-headedness. Then I didn’t feel so bad on Thursday, so I thought, “Oh, it’s just my spring allergies kicking in. I can rock this.” Then I woke up this morning and thought, “Oh, no.”

I actually did leave the house, determined to function in my ill-feeling state. After all, I’ve worked ten hour days with a screaming headache. I could have a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures while experiencing light-headedness, right? Not so much.

If any of you are currently expressing horror that I drove my vehicle in a lightheaded state, sorry. It wasn’t really that bad. I don’t think I was a danger to myself and others. I managed to run my errands, one of which was, I believe, blogworthy in the usual sense. However, I will not write about it now, for reasons that will become clear when I eventually do write about it. If anybody remembers the preceding sentence, and, quite frankly, I’m not counting on anybody continuing to read after the second paragraph.

Anyways, when I got home, the light-headedness kicked in full force. I couldn’t do anything by lie on the couch and read a Georgette Heyer book. For a little variety, I went up and laid down on the bed and read, then napped a little.

And, by the way, how about a brief shout out to Georgette Heyer? She pretty much invented the Regency Romance. Nobody before or since has done it as well. Oh, well, maybe Jane Austen. It is so cool to think that there was a time when people felt obligated to be civil. Judging from some of the stuff I read on Facebook or hear in the streets, that is emphatically no longer the case. That could be a topic for another blog post. When I’m feeling better.