Early bird on a Memorial Day.

Chirp chirp.

Was surprised to find a few places open, for breakfast and for grocery shopping.

Ran into the walking Ron on the roadway, so he hopped in for a ride home.

From there, it was a quiet day, all except for the coughing.

I wonder if I should let the coughing ensue, or continue to suppress it with meds.

It is ruffling my chicken butt feathers.

Wanted to go to the parade, but did not want to hang out in public coughing my W@#%#@#%#@% off.

I did, however, get a great dose of vitamin D on the deck, on such a lovely spring day.

All in all, a quiet day to reflect on those who gave their lives in honor of our country.

Now, on Tuesday, the fireworks are already beginning, with thunder, lightning and yes, more rain.

Ain’t life grand?



Marching to my own drummer

I have a love/hate relationship with March weather.

Yesterday? Went to lunch before the storm, just like the rest of the world.


We all had the same idea.

The snow started right on time, 3pm.


Looked out on 6 inches of the glorious stuff.

And then?

The sun is out and the snow is melting.

Tomorrow: Back in the freezer for a few days.

If there is a bipolar month, it is definitely March.

No cabin fever……yet.

Not even feeling like I need to get out of the house.

Now that is remarkable.

The loose cannon, staying home, in her pjs…. just because.


Ask the whale

Traditionally, around President’s day, the weather is wild.

This year?

Same as it ever was….

I don’t do ice unless it is in a drink.

This morning, it is cold, but sunny, and the icy trees are twinkling.

So are the roads.

Do I want to go out?

Do I have to go out?

Will I go out?

No, no, and no.

It’s these relatively new options that make me happy that I am a beached whale.

To celebrate my newly found status, the whale is eating a cherry turnover, while wearing a robe and my FU hat.

Tomorrow is V day.

I will ask myself the same questions then:

Do I want to go out?

Do I have to go out?

Will I go out?

Only the whale knows for sure.

Until then,







Silver Lining

The past week had its share of highlights and lowlights.

A mixed bag of reality vs perception.

Life, they say, is all about attitude.

How we process what we experience is what makes “good” or “bad” days.

You decide:

Sub zero temps took over much of the nation.


Unrelenting winds.

After 3 days, it was over, at least temporarily, with temps soaring to 50 degrees.

We walked through hell to find ourselves in heaven.

“If you want to see the sunshine you have to have to weather the storm.”  (Frank Lane)

My nephew’s new heart:

Touch and go:  Early rejection, 3 surgeries, setbacks, suffering, waiting, hoping, praying.

A biopsy would reveal if his body had issues accepting the new heart.

No signs of rejection, following the procedure.

A long road ahead, for sure.

However, the road is now paved with hope and promise, for a renewal of life.

Finally, a brief note on my flu/cold/virus/whatever:

2 weeks in the making.

It started when the weather took a bad turn, and forced me to stay inside to rest.

A mixed blessing, again.

Perfect timing.

If the weather had eased up, I would have been running around, acting like a loose cannon.

Besides, I was able to find the cure for the common cold, during those 2 weeks:

A witches brew:  hot tea, lemon, honey and whiskey.

Oh yeah!

Mark Twain said it best:  “Too much of anything is bad, but too much good whiskey is barely enough.”




Breaking out

Do I  or don’t I?

It was another cold morning.

3 degrees, warming to around 28 by the afternoon.

Is it time to break out?

Clean off the car and head on down the road?

Or stay at home one more day?

Cabin fever won.

A nice lunch, a few hot toddies and I knew it was the right decision.

Had to catch up by phone with Banana in NYC.

Her life is at least as crazy as mine.

Chatted with the regulars and in walks Cindy.

We always have a great time.

How about we do this again tomorrow?

Count me in.

Oh yeah, it’s super bowl Sunday, at 630pm.

Do we think that we will  last until the game?

Highly doubtful.


Slim to none.

Just about the same odds as the Rams have of winning.

Time will tell.





There is something about an approaching storm that brings people together

During a weather alert, I love to hang out with the locals, until the snow flies.

However, this time, no precip fell from the skies, as was predicted at 3pm.

I am wondering:  Does it rain or snow when the temp is 37 degrees?

Rather than concerning myself about snow and rain and all that jazz, Saturday afternoon was one of those delightful times when everyone came together.

We had been waiting for the impending doom, all day,

So far?

Still waiting.

Let it rip.

Get it on, bang a gong.

Get it on.

Time for the chicken butt to put on her nighty, flannel, of course, and to hibernate as the world turns.

The world was moving, she was right there with it, and she was.

Stay safe everyone!




The 5 Seasons

When I hear that another one of my friends is moving to Florida or Arizona, I wonder if they will miss the 4 seasons.

Most say “No way! We are moving to escape the brutal winters of the Northeastern US.”

I guess they are summer people.

Yes, I do like summer time, even when the 3 H’s take over:  Hot, hazy, and humid.

But I also look forward to the crisp football weather in autumn, the first snowfall, and my favorite:  the awakening of nature in the spring.

Yesterday, the last day of July was the last “nice” day before a series of rainy days;  almost a repeat of last week’s weather, with flooding, torrential rains.

However, for the most part, nature is loving the rain.  I don’t know when I have seen the grass, plants and trees look more beautiful.

2 weeks ago, I thought my lawn was dead.

Today, it is absolutely alive and thriving.

I am adding a 5th season to the established 4-some:  The rainy season.

For now, on August 1, 2018, I am one of the rainy day people.

Remembering the Gordon Lightfoot song:  Rainy day lovers don’t hide love inside, they just pass it on

I love the Northeast and its ever changing weather.

They say variety is the spice of life.

The more spice, the better.

And we Pennsylvanians relish the pungency and spiciness of our seasons.





A matter of choice

Welcome to the first day of spring.

Oh yeah?

Let’s try again:  Welcome to the 4th NorEaster in a month, to tantalize…. oops, to terrorize those who are winter weary, longing for a break in the weather.

Freezing rain tonight.

Followed by sleet and 7 inches of snow tomorrow.

It’s been said that March is madness.

Lions and lambs and all that stuff.

Yeah, and basketball.

Having lived in Northern Minnesota, years ago, I never considered March to be spring.

I really don’t think we ever had spring.

We had winter and summer.

And then winter again.

But then, who cared?

We had very little issues with winter, other than crashing into Lake Superior.

In the Northeast?

Different story, different culture.

There is no excuse for not venturing out.

We are in a hurry.

We need to get to work.

So we get stuck on I 78 or Route 22 for hours, so what?

We are driven.

We get up at 4am to drive an hour or two to make the big bucks.

Our commutes are outrageous.

Meanwhile, in Northern Minnesota, snow is expected.

So who cares?

7 inches??  A piece of cake.

It hardly ever made the news.
Live in the NE for 20 years, and guess what?

Yup, hunkering down.

I hear the freezing rain on the windows and I think to myself:  I never heard that sound in Minnesota.

We had snow in the winter and rain in the summer, and never the twain shall meet.

Same country, two different worlds.

It’s all a matter of choice.




Controlling the uncontrollable

Waiting for the snowfall.

As I recall, President’s day weekend typically was a snowy one.

Not sure why the forecast raises my anxiety level.

It’s not as if I have someplace I need to be.

Conditioning, that’s it.

Years and years of conditioning.

Living in the Midwest, where the winters are brutal and the summers are not much better.

Constant worrying over something no one can control.

Yes, I have phobias.

Lightning, tornadoes, blizzards and excessive humidity:  All weather related.

And not a damn thing I can do about it.

Tonight, I am turning over a new leaf.

I might even smoke it.

In a few minutes, ask me if it is snowing.

Like I care?

Hello? Pizza Hut?

Do you deliver?





A philosophical blog after 4 beers.

Almost oppressive.

Yes, it was a hhh day, with tornadoes.

Are summer storms comparable to winter storms?

My take?

A blizzard lasts for days.

Oh, it might snow like a SOB for a day, but the aftermath can linger for days.

Where’s my car?

Under a snowbank.

If you live in rural Pennsylvania, you might get out, but then there is the challenge of driving in freezing rain, icy roads and black ice.

In the summer?

A tornado rips through the neighborhood in a matter of minutes, uprooting trees, tearing the shingles off the roof, and sending cows flying into space.

Ok, so move to Puerto Rico.


Until the hurricane season.

Is there a perfect place on this planet?

Don’t count on it.

Life is an adventure.

It is not for the weak nor timid among us.

Oh yeah, we can worry our asses off over what might happen.

And if something does happen, if we are still alive after the event, we somehow manage to rebuild, to renew and to go on.

So tonight, on this hazy, hot, humid day, with a sprinkling of tornadic activity, it appears that I have survived, to face another day.

I hid from my fears, and joined friends at a local bar.

You know, that God protects the infirm and the drunks.

And if you are like me, and happen to be both, well, hello!

Until tomorrow,