The bride’s dress has been hemmed. It’s perfect.
The shoes have been purchased. They’re perfect.
Flower in her hair? Yep. Perfect.
And–ta da!–we found the most perfect earrings. Little silver dangly glittery balls.
Two months to go!!!!
And no, I don’t have my dress yet. Give me a few more weeks to let my gray hair grow in.
After a marathon car-shopping day, Banjo Man and I found our dream car. Up at 5 AM, armed with Consumer Reports, on-line research, dealer inventory print-outs and coffee, we set out to actually drive cars.
Imagine that.
We were shopping for a used car. We knew how much we could spend. We knew we wanted 4wd, V-6 engine, comfy seats, a roomy interior, safety features, a clean Carfax report and a high reliability rating from consumer magazines.
So here’s the MorePie Summary:
Mazda Cx-9: no, because the console was huge and annoying
Honda Pilot: no, because it was almost too big and the one we drove made a weird knocking noise
Rav4: passenger seat = torture chamber (this car was new; by this point in the day we were now considering leasing and Banjo Man was experiencing severe sticker shock).
And the winner is……..[insert ripping open the envelope sound]:
TOYOTA HIGHLANDER!!!!
Yep, we bought the “lonely little Toyota in the Volvo shop” at 5 PM Saturday.
(is anyone old enough to remember what song I’m paraphrasing????)
And you know what the best part is? HEATED SEATS!!!
today is mom’s 86th birthday.
tomorrow we’re going to the “big suburbs” for massages and lunch, but i wanted to share some of my favorite photos with you today.
1943, high school graduation, New Orleans, LA (my mother has always been a true fashionista)
her handsome 19-year old Navy man
a southern gal’s one-and-only time on ice skates, 1945
with me, topless and with a new hairdo
with her son, who obviously had never seen a camera before
with her grandsons (mom worked in a library for 25+ years)
happy birthday!!!!!!!
Did Nancy Ball really say I had to wear these ears????
It’s the season. Banjo Man is car-shopping again.
This time I am enabling him. Aiding and abetting. I am, surprisingly, his partner in crime.
Because…I secretly (and now, not so secretly) want a van for this summer’s road trip. I want room, baby! I want to be able to open the rear passenger door without a basket of cd’s and my sneakers dropping to the pavement. I want to be able to ride west without maps and banana peels and half-empty water bottles bumping my ankles. I want Banjo Man to have a place to lie down in the back so he can take afternoon naps and I can drive and listen to talk radio and eat potato chips and drink bad-for-me diet Coke in total isolation.
[It is always better to indulge one’s strange habits in private, rather than subjecting your spouse to them, which is why Banjo Man eats sardines in his workshop.]
And when I get to where I’m going, when I’m hauling laundry, groceries, garbage and band equipment, I want to be able to do it all at the same time. I think. Three out of four, anyway.
At first Banjo Man thought he wanted something with great gas mileage, something small like the Subaru Impreza. I sat in one. He sat in a Honda Fit. Hmmm…..great cars but maybe not for 3000 miles in 6 days? We want to stay married for a while longer so we can someday pool our Social Security checks and go to the early bird specials at Applebee’s.
Neither of us really want to spend the money on something brand new. But the Mazda5 mini-mini-van is/was tempting.
We succumbed–for a couple of days– to our former dumber-than-grass car-shopping days when we were always optimistic about buying something used. Really used. I had visions of a Mazda MPV minivan (Will has a high-mileage MPV in Texas for driving 4 miles a day to work), one with low miles and lots of room, but the “low miles” feature is hard to find, especially when the vans stopped being made in 2006.
So for the first time in a year we are going together to a car dealer tonight. So far we’ve made our little research trips separately, which is how we’ve stayed married for 40+ years.
[It is always better to annoy the car salesman than your spouse, though it doesn’t often happen that way.]
Banjo Man is eying used Toyota Ravs. I like those, too. I’d love to have 4WD. And I like sitting up high (which is why I love my truck). My if-I-won-the-lottery car would be a fancy Subaru Outback with heated seats. I also drooled over the new Mazda CV (CX?) 5, but the reviews said it’s not so good on steep hills. And if you’ve ever driven down/up our summer driveway, you know the definition of “steep hill.”
btw, this new Mazda has something called “hill assist”, which I can’t wait to ask the salesman about. I picture a Sumo wrestler popping out of the cargo area and pushing the car up the slope.
“Hey, Mr. Ito? We’re heading up the mountain for band practice. You have enough water back there?”
Then again, depending on how our shopping trip goes tonight, we might end up this way again.
As long as we get to where we’re going, we’re gonna be happy.
We skyped Tuesday night. First time ev-uh!!
It was quite exciting. Banjo Man and I were staring into the computer monitor at our little family in Texas as if we hadn’t seen them in years (instead of days). We smiled and giggled and pointed at each other and generally acted silly while the Texas camera unexplainedly zoomed in and out (my grandson may have been pushing something on the keyboard).
We even waved at the dog.
Unfortunately none of us on either computer could hear each other. We had a technical glitch with the sound. OR we need to buy microphones. We never did figure it out, so we’re going to have to work on it a little more. So we talked on the phone while we acted as if we were watching each other on that big TV screen on the Enterprise.
What’s coming next? Teleportation?????
If so, this grandmother can’t wait!
>
See that smile? My father was the happiest person I knew.
He was also wise and kind and funny and generous and wherever he was, that’s where everyone wanted to be.
This is one of my favorite photos. One of his “retirement” jobs was as House Manager at the Theatre-by-the-Sea. No one loved his summer job more than my father did. Each season everyone who worked there–producers, directors, actors, musicians, ushers—adored him. Here the cast (I think it was “Funny Girl”) reassembled their makeup and costumes after the show so Daddy could have his picture taken with them.
Actors left their jobs in New York to sing at his funeral.
Theatre-by-the-Sea hosted the wake afterwards.
He loved to sing and had a beautiful voice.
One winter he secretly learned to play the musical saw.
No one ever had a better time at Disneyworld.
He never missed a local parade.
He loved to hear a band play “Anchors Aweigh”.
I should tell you all more stories about my father. I could blog about him every day for a year and never run out of things to say. But even after 17 years (he died April 4, 1995) of missing him, I’m still pretty much heartbroken. It’s hard to type and laugh and cry at the same time.
(if you are reading this post via email, please click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75nXmGoErbQ&feature=youtube_gdata or go to my blog to hear the song.)
Banjo Man is on a new eating program. No meat. No dairy. He has lost 10 pounds in 4 weeks (because he’s a man) and would be very glad to tell you all about it, except he is buried under pounds of Brussel sprouts, romaine, tomatoes, broccoli, spinach, mangoes, bananas, oranges, apples, beans and lentils.
I tried this diet for one day. By 4 PM I was in tears and had a migraine. Banjo Man fixed me a bowl of salad big enough to fill a Volkswagen and assured me I’d be okay once I adjusted. I worked on that salad for an hour and then decided to save the rest for another day. A day when I had nothing better to do than chew. A day with more time to adjust.
While I don’t mind eliminating meat and cheese and bread and sweets, I miss yogurt.
I need yogurt.
EAT TO LIVE is a wonderfully interesting book, more about eating nutritionally to prevent disease than losing weight. But, as Dr. Fuhrman says, thin = healthy. [duh]
Everything he says makes sense, it truly does.
So, pass that bucket of black beans over here. I’m going to keep trying.
For approximately eight years, on behalf of my local Animal Rescue League, I wrote a “Pet of the Week” column for the Providence Journal. It was a labor of love–I’d wanted to do something like this for a long time. Weekly visits to the shelter to “interview” an animal and take pictures were always a highlight for me. None of us (shelter workers and volunteers) anticipated how many animals would be adopted because they’d been featured in the newspaper; the number of people ready and willing to love a homeless pet was truly remarkable.
In honor of Easter Bunnies everywhere, I thought I’d share a bunny story with you:
Bun Bun, 2006
Yes, I’m a rabbit. I know you’re accustomed to reading about dogs and cats (and that one ferret who managed to have his own article last year), but this week I, a female Rhinelander bunny of phenomenal fur and exquisite rabbit roundness, am in the spotlight at last. My name is “Bun Bun”, and yes, I know it rhymes with “fun fun” and “run run”. In my spare time—and I have lots of it—I make up little poems about myself.
Did you know February is National Adopt a Bunny Month? Well, you humans learn something new every day, don’t you? We rabbits are number three on the Most Abandoned Animals list. You don’t see herds of homeless domestic bunnies roaming through the streets of towns, blocking traffic, rampaging through gardens and creating hare havoc because we freeze to death or end up as coyote snack food, among other sad endings.
My own story is a happier one. I was discovered eating dandelions in someone’s backyard last October and subsequently brought to the shelter. It’s lovely here, but I’d love my own little house in which to hop. I’m an indoor bunny, not meant to shiver in a hutch outside. I love my cardboard box. I sit in it, chew it, drag it around and hide inside of it. Typical bunny play, but oh, so much fun! I love kale and Cheerios and carrots, of course, and I thrive on rabbit pellets and hay.
I’m also trained to use my litter box, which should tempt you to take me home. I’m a lovely hopper, and I don’t mind living with cats. I have no nasty habits and can be snuggly when I know you, but I do love to be petted.
You may think I look like the Easter Bunny, but my lips are sealed in regards to past occupations. Bunnies who serve on the egg-delivery circuit are held to a strict code of silence about their good deeds and holiday hops, but I will only hint that the scent of chocolate brings back lovely memories.
I hope someone out there wants a bunny to love. My adoption fee is $15, which includes my cage, hay and rabbit food.
[Bun Bun was adopted shortly after this article was published.]
Fourth of July
Glen the Banjo Man
LIVE at the Dump
is there any more pie? 