Category Archives: Uncategorized

Pending Changes…

Just a heads up to another pending change.  I hate having to go through this again and I really like this magazine style theme and really love the pale lavender color, but my pictures are not showing up on the little summaries and I don’t like that.  Also, there are other features that don’t seem to be included in this Suburbia theme, like the “follow me on….” feature that invites people to follow you on other media forums.

So, don’t know yet what I’m changing to because I’ve got to go through all the choices again to see which will be a good fit.  I did like the Choco theme but not liking the brownness of it and they don’t give a lot of color choices for that one… which is okay.

I am THE Sandwich

Daily Prompt: You, the Sandwich

If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be?  Describe it.
(Bonus points if you give us a recipe!)

Hmm… Actually, it’s already been out there as a Jahn’s ice cream creation called “The Kitchen Sink,” but I guess I can’t take on someone else’s name.  I remember getting the kitchen sink… but boy, what a waste of money.  It was gigantic and it was all mine.  OMG, really, I had no idea of how big these things were as it was for my First Communion and I was a little kid… I ate every bit of it.  I thought the name, “The Kitchen Sink” was promising an adventure… and it did.

So let’s get serious.  I’m all about the chocolate…


Fantasy 101

Park Place Expensive Real Estate Monopoly

What can I say.  I have no idea how to fantasize.  Nah that’s not true.  My problem is that I can do it TOO well. Over the years I’ve had to draw back from it because I get carried away too far into my dreams.  They become too real for me or I really, really feel that way, so I’ve stopped to kind of save myself from the constant disappointment.  The tween and teen me could sit in isolation for hours upon hours living out some kind of fantasy in my head.  I wasted too many hours living out a life that was fake… in my head.  What was really odd was that I actually felt that I did those things done in fantasy, in my real life.  I felt the satisfaction, the exhilaration, the sense of accomplishment felt so real.

I bring this up today after experiencing a flash fantasy in McDonald’s.  You know they’ve got that Monopoly game going on right now.  I pulled a Park Place and I could SWEAR that I previously pulled a Boardwalk.  Do you know what this means?  It means a cool million dollars~!  I just asked DH to check again for the match.  I’ve been daydreaming all the way home from there about winning $1,000,000.  Imagine!

The first thing I’d do is get health insurance for our family.  Then I envisioned myself walking into our church’s office and asking them how much their bills were this month (year?) and write them a check for that amount. Then maybe pay for the next step of renovations that are being planned as part of their 100 year anniversary, but I’m sure they can’t comfortably afford to pay for it.  What I really want to do with this is to support my church; and by that I mean to support our local church and not the archdiocese.  I cannot abide with how they are handling the predatory priest scandal and I refuse to give my money to that institution.  The same institution that even after they knew about what was going on, hid it and simply reassigned these priests and effectively foisted them onto another unsuspecting “Community of Faith.”  Let me tell you my trust is gone completely. I have an eight year old boy and it kills me to think that he could have been any of these boys who were betrayed and violated.  So, this is why I try to give my money directly to my church.

After that, I’d buy a house in a school district that best suits my son’s needs.  Yeah.  On the way home, I wasn’t driving and I had the opportunity to daydream about almost every house that caught my eye.  There was one that had blue/pink shingles that was really pretty and reminded me of a beautiful heathered blue yarn.  But then, if I won a million dollars I can have any colored shingle I wanted.  If you want to know more about my house fantasies, I suggest reading Dream Home, Dream On, a Daily Prompt assignment from not that long ago.

Ugh, the final answer is that we have two Park Place pieces.  It was good while it lasted.




Daily Prompt: Party Animals

Daily Prompt: Party Animals (?)

After spending time with a group of people, do you feel energized and ready for anything or do you want to hide in the corner with a good book?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us PERSONALITY.

I think the answer to this question depends on who you are spending your time with and how comfortable you are feeling around them.  I have a particular group of friends that get together once a month.  They are my Posse.  I never thought I’d have a posse, but here ya go.  I love to laugh but in my middle and present years, I’ve been missing that.  My husband is a serious fellow, but his heart is in the right place.  While he DOES have a sense of humor, sometimes it slips right by me.  Did I make the wrong choice for a life-mate?  My answer is No.  I’ve dated a lot of guys with enormous personalities and amazing sense of humor, but at those times, they could not or would not commit to anything permanent, and that’s what I was looking for.  Anyway….

….This group of women pulled the belly laughs from me and I realized I missed that.  We all came together to knit and crochet and to share our love for the fiber arts…. and did I mention the FOOD?  I’m drooling.  We do potluck and we all get to sample the best of the best of what we’re all capable of creating with eatable items. Once a month gatherings are not enough for most of us and so we try to get together more often and some of us, weekly, at Wegmans‘.  We also get together on a retreat every year and it’s a whole weekend of non-stop laughs, well into the night.

On the other side of the mountain, I remember going out in my early twenties with some girlfriends to “clubs”. Ugh.  Places groups of girls and guys went to dance and the disco music was, um, plentiful.  I grew up sucking up Heavy Metal Rock music in the seventies and my twenties were spent in the eighties.  While I hate discotheques, the flashing lights, the LOUD music, and the watered down drinks, that was the only place I could go with other women.  My friends abandoned rock music for the dance stuff.  Ugh. I always found an excuse to get out of there to recover, if even for a few minutes. I remember one time I retired to a little corner underneath a speaker and actually fell asleep waiting for my friends to be ready to go home.  The men at that time were not interested in me at all because I was overweight.  Only the flashy, twiggy girls got the attention and I guess I was not a threatening presence to my friends who were there to meet guys.  I knew this and I guess I kind of used them, too, to get myself out of the house.  Back then, I had no idea there were other types of places I could go, by myself, to have a cup of coffee and read and not feel out of place being by myself.

Even today I prefer to go out to places by myself, shedding the burden of trivial conversation.  When I’m with a group, I find that I’m not into most of the conversation.  I don’t want to hear about kids, I don’t want to hear about home decor or cleaning.  I’d rather sit there and listen to deeper things that are far over my head (except math) and try to understand.  I’m not into a lot of podcasts any more because the talk is irritating. Also, I prefer to talk to men.  I think that with sports being the exception, they are much more interesting to talk to than women.  Certain women in my experience were notorious for giving in to the urge to nitpick and correct me at every turn and well, our views were constantly in a state of conflict.  It was discouraging and I soon realized I did not belong in that group because I was constantly brought down.  Fading myself out of there hurt me very much, because I really admired and respected this particular lady, and I still do, but I had to give priority to my own sense of worth.

People often mistake my shyness and awkward silence and think I’m being aloof and that I have no interest.  In actuality, I am absorbing everything and speak up when I am inclined to and that is about it.  In truth, I prefer to just sit in the background, working on my knit or crochet project. HA… It’s funny because people will think that I am ignoring the conversation, then I have to prove that I heard every word.  They are not realizing that I can freaking participate in the convo while my hands are working.  Since when do ears and hands collide?

Ah, I’m okay with the way things are right now.  Wish I could give more attention to this post, but I’ve got to go run some errands that are really important.  More advocating in the educational system.  Sheesh… I thought I’d get a vacation from this shit, but it never stops.

Have a great day, people!

Disco ball in blue

Disco ball in blue (Photo credit: Wikipedia)









Click Your Heels Three Times….

Daily Prompt: There’s No Place Like Home

If you had the opportunity to live a nomadic life, traveling from place to place, would you do it? Do you need a home base? What makes a place “home” to you?

I don’t just need a home base.  I need a place to feel safe and secure.  I need a place where I’m comfortable and free to be me.  I think I also need space that is spacious enough so that I don’t feel as if I’m living in a closet.  I don’t feel that way now, but I have in the past.

The first place I called “home” was a small, what they called a “railroad house,” which is a house with one room laid out after the other in a successive, linear line.  These houses were semi attached so when the house attached to us exterminated their roach problem, all the roaches had to do was cross the border into our space. I remember coming home after a weekend away and all the roaches greeted us from the ceiling of our kitchen. Yeah.  To this day, I have a supernatural fear of living in an apartment building, or any place where you share the building with other tenants.  We share this building with other tenants, but I am comfortable here.  When the roach problem broke out, we knew exactly where it originated from and maybe that made the difference.  I high tailed it to Home Depot and purchased $60.00 worth of a spray that took care of all types of bugs, then shared it with our neighbors because if you’re going to do this, you’ve got to do it right. Maybe that is why this place seems better than an apartment building with a shitload more tenants. When we first moved here, we also had a spider problem.  You could tell because they were everywhere and the bushes outside were glazed over with a silken white covering… the. webs.  It’s funny, roaches are the only bugs I don’t have any qualms about killing. It’s like each one is a time bomb, just waiting to shoot out an egg case to terrorize the world.  Sci Fi stuff.  Oh shit, I’ve made a whole paragraph off topic.  The house I grew up in has the memories, regardless.  I miss it and I wish that I could tour the inside.  A contractor bought it from my dad after my mother passed away and the front of it has changed so much.  It looks like a mosque now.  They pulled out my mother’s peach tree that she planted from a pit she threw into the front garden.  It was even producing peaches… THAT really killed me, but it’s not my house any more and I’d love to see what they did on the inside. The inside of this house that I knew was a tight, cramped space.  My only escape was to the basement which was cooler, but dark.  Still, the memories.

English: Looking southwest at Bay Parkway in B...

English: Looking southwest at Bay Parkway in Bensonhurst, NY. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Somewhere in between here, I was married for eight years and had other living arrangements, then moved back to the family home before eventually making it out to the home I have today.  My first marriage, we moved into the in-laws’ second floor, four room apartment.  It was a beautiful apartment and it had character.  It was indeed spacious, ample closet space, and we furnished it with all new stuff.  The bathroom was a decent size. The kitchen was on the small side, but big enough to cook and support a table area.  We had a little nook between closets to put our Christmas tree in, we had a window seat in the extra room, we had ample sunlight and I could even put my plants outside the kitchen window on top of the extension of the first floor. The apartment was situated in Bensonhurst, NY, which was a really good, Italian area.  I say Italian because I am Italian and I experienced a part of my culture that was never so apparent to me before because I grew up in a Jewish area.  The best was being able to buy raw olives at the end of September, just in time to “cook” in vinegar for the holiday season.  Just one thing.  I was not comfortable there.  It was the husband, it was the husband’s family always being around and influencing our state of sanity, and inevitable insanity.

After seven years, we moved to Sayreville, NJ.  I fell in love with that little Polish town.  I felt that I could be a part of something.  The traffic throughout the town was just starting to get out of control, however; but I found back street ways of getting around.  There was history there, so I made it a point of visiting the Historical Society.  I had gotten a street map of the town from the clerk’s office and in a matter of three months, I got around like nobody’s business.  We owned a house.  The minute we walked in there, we felt the positive energy.  A good family lived there and it showed.  It was a converted Cape style home converted into upstairs, downstairs.  Two bathrooms, three bedrooms, one being a master bedroom, tremendous, with a walk-in closet which was going to serve as a nursery when the time came.  The first floor had another bathroom, laundry room, living room, dining room and, what we made, an entertainment room with a TV, and stereo.  It was really comfortable in there.  We had a back yard and I planted a garden.  O.M.G.  My own garden!  Oh, forgot to mention that we had a really nice kitchen with dishwasher.  Ah, that was the best thing I could have… but it was not to last.  I feel so old now, realizing that I’m too old to physically maintain anything like this again.  I think I’m going to cry right now.  Well, barely nine months after we moved in, he decided he wanted a divorce.  It was Thanksgiving day and he called me up from his mother’s house in Brooklyn to let me know, the shit.  I knew that I could not afford the house, and we had no equity at all built up in it, so I moved out.

My next situation was renting a room on a weekly basis.  The only thing I could afford.  My whole room was smaller than my closet in Sayreville.  The bed was broken, but oddly that was the best sleep I could ever have. The break in the bed sort of made it like a hammock and that incline was good for my back.  The good thing about that place was that I became very friendly with my landlord and eventually, she trusted me enough so that I could have the run of the whole place.  That situation did not last very long because the neighbors complained about her renting out her rooms.  I had three other room-renting experiences before my job situation came to an end because of a merger.  I lasted as long as I could on my own before moving back to my parent’s house in Brooklyn.  That was the darkest day of my life.  I had to acknowledge for real that I would never be able to support myself.  Ironically, this was the best thing that could happen to me.  I got the chance to spend those last years of my mom’s life with her and we were able to at least start to mend our dysfunctional relationship and I’ll always be grateful for that.

Fast forward to present day.  I am in my second marriage to a wonderful guy and we have a little boy.  We’ve been renting the first floor of a private home in Elizabeth, NJ. for over nine years now, but I find myself torn.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love the space we have.  It has a lot of potential and our public rooms are quite spacious, but the problem I have is living in an urban environment.  I really don’t want to get started on that again, but if you follow this blog, you’ve read about that before and I don’t want to complain.  As I said, our living room and dining room are very big, and the kitchen is the biggest kitchen I’ve had so far.  Lots of space.  We have a front porch and a little raised terrace off the kitchen.  I have plants out there.  We have a backyard, but we don’t really use it.  I did have a small garden out there up to last year and it was great.  I realize that this was never meant to be a permanent home, but we’ve been here almost a decade now.  What makes matters worse is that our financial situation is not a steady one.  Where to next?  I feel like I’m in a fog, a dream and that I need to click my heels three times but WHERE are the glittery red mary jane shoes?

Well, if things change I’m sure that I’ll write about it, but for now, we are taking things one day at a time… and for now this is where I’ll be.  So much more now to consider before picking everything up and moving to…. well, anywhere.  I refuse to do this in haste because we have so much to lose; and by this I am referring to our son’s education.  Gone are the days when I’d pack a box or two of my stuff, throw them into the back seat of my car and move along.  Just the act of moving is a monumental undertaking… whew.

So for now, this is where the house from Kansas will rest….


Footnote:  I just spent 3 hours trying to get pictures of my collection of living spaces, but have failed because of sheesh, privacy issues I guess.

Daily Prompt: Ready Set… GO

Set a timer for ten minutes. Open a new post. Start the timer, and start writing. When the timer goes off, publish. 

My first thought was, “yeah, open a can of worms.”  But, I’ll slip past THAT and move on to an accomplishment of last night.  I finally finished knitting the Tappan Zee Cardigan, sweetly called “Tappan ME” on my Ravelry project page.  It’s something that I’m really, really pleased with how it came out.  After blocking, I will do a more detailed post.  Oh.  This is the perfect time to start a pattern that is part of my New Year’s Resolution, which I hardly ever make, but I’ve been planning this pattern for over a year and I even have the yarn required.  It’s called Shipwreck…. Isn’t she pretty?  It requires beads being knitted into it, but I think they don’t come until the middle part.  I can start this, commit myself to it, and have a little time to get the beads.

Another thought is the anticipation of my next crochet group gathering (as we’ve come to call it) in Brooklyn with my Posse.  Yes, I have a posse, people!  We meet once a month, but oooh, the last time I saw most of these ladies was back in October and that wasn’t even with half of our people.  I’m planning on being there this Saturday, though, and will probably drive into Brooklyn early just to cruise around my old neighborhood.  Yep, I’m a Brooklyn girl, born and raised.

Wow.  I’m HUNGRY~!   Need. to. eat.

Boy Meets Step Stool Revisited

Not feeling so well tonight, so thought it would be the perfect time to use this new “copy post” feature and dredge up a past post.  This one made me chuckle and maybe you’ll get a kick out of it, too…….. Just hope I’m not a bad mommie for watching this at least 8 times so far tonight.  It’s just the knowing what’s going to happen….

Just couldn’t resist posting this clip I got of Gabe today. He showed me today that he could sit on it, himself…. So I wanted to take a pic… then thought of doing a video. This is what happened:

The Toddler

Don’t have a toddler in your life?  You are missing out on a lot, if you don’t.  So far, this has been a real roller coaster ride, but my little man has begun coming into his own… well, as  this stage of his life will allow.  When Little Drake turned 2 years old, last March, he said that the object of the game will now be just keeping him from hurting himself and he has been proven correct again, and again.  He will turn 3 years old in just a month, now, and I think I’ll be attempting to do some comparisons between 2 and 3…. It’s been a ride!

This video is hysterical! But I’d advise to view it before letting your little ones because there are parts that they might like try out.

There should be a disclaimer: “Don’t try this at home.”

I love Sean Morey’s humor, though.  I’ll be posting more of his stuff soon.

Wow… I have nothing to do!

Shhhhhhh! Don’t say that too loud: I-have-nothing-to-do. Well, I did just start a potato soup recipe.

But really. The house is clean and I don’t have any major housekeeping chores looming over my head. Why… What…. How do I find myself in this situation, you ask? I hosted my first playgroup today. I was crazy yesterday, trying to clean, but mostly procrastinating… torn between the desire to crochet and the responsibility of cleaning house. Geez, I am so hungry! I have to stop writing for a bit……

Back, oh 1/2 hour later. Finished the soup and can’t wait to see how it tastes. I’m letting the flavors “blend”.

Back to the cleaning thing. Better write fast as my thoughts are already fading fast, which was my problem over the summer. <Let out deep breath> I find myself sitting in a clean and, most importantly, orderly house. Why don’t I learn my lesson for good? Well, I did, but as with everything, I keep falling back into my bad habits. I have no idea if I’m t……….. oh, shit. Gabe just spilled a ton of water and I had to mop it up. Thank goodness it was just water…. <big sigh> As I was saying, I have no idea if I am truly, simply put, lazy or if it’s something else. I am hoping it’s something else because “lazy” doesn’t sound good. <took time out to comfort son who found something “wrong” with his beads and is flinging them across the room, whining to himself>……………………

……. Tried to get Little Drake down for a nap, but it was a no go 15 min. later. See, this is my life, bouncing from one thing to another. So how can I possibly get some decent writing time where I can just collect my thoughts for long enough to write them down. BTW, the soup is a keeper!

Right. Getting back to clean-talk. I’ve always been intimidated by the thought of cleaning. The women in my family are despot fanatics. Me, on the other hand… WAY over on the other hand, avoid cleaning like the plague. It’s not that I don’t like a clean house, but the road there has always been a long, slow, rocky one. You know those dreams where you are running in the fog to someplace you’ve got to get to yesterday? That’s me. Running furiously, every muscle in my body straining to reach further and further, in slow motion, and getting absolutely nowhere. Part of the problem is, believe it or not, is that I am too much the perfectionist. I remember locking myself in the bathroom… just like my son is doing right now, wait a sec…. Okay. I’d stay literally all day in the bathroom trying to clean it. It was my one chore and I had such a hard time getting it done. I could not focus for long enough. Part of my problem was that I as such a klutz. I’d clean one area on the sink, then, when cleaning an adjoining area, I’d mess up the first area. That would get me so frustrated and I hit a brick wall. Of course what followed was intense avoidance.

Fast forward to now. Well, during the course of the past year, I joined a Mom’s Club in our area. The main reason for joining was the playgroups because Little Drake just doesn’t have kids his own age to play with around here. Somehow or another, these girls got the idea that I was “only” in it for the playgroups and I think that was the reason why I always felt like no one was interested in getting to know “me”. Sure the playgroups was what got me off my duff to get out there, but I also do not have any friends of my own, so, I was looking to make friends, too. Anyway, playgroups were not working out for one reason or another. I am guessing that part of the problem is that I don’t make friends easily. I’m not the type of person to get into, what I’ll call for now, “frilly” conversations. You know the ones. Those things we talk about when we are really wishing we were somewhere else… the weather, makeup, fashion, or “those Jets”. A former horrid topic was “kids” and the cutesy things they do; but now I’m one of those who crossed over to the KIDDIE SIDE…wooooo. I am not trying to imply that these women talk about frilly topics… but I am just trying to say where MY head is at.

Our playgroups get re-grouped regularly, so this time around, I offered to host right away. I am learning so much about being social… I am not a socialized individual. I never know how to clean, you know? I mean, what are those chores you can do days before and still look presentable when it’s showtime? When do you wash the floor? When do you dust? When do you clean the bathroom? When do you vacuum? I’ve always had a problem with this because there are just some things you need to do right on the same day… then pray nobody uses the sink or the toilet! The end result for me is that I do it all the night before and right up to the time people are scheduled to come; and this is what happened to me today. So last night I ran around like a maniac after both males of the house were sound asleep. I washed the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen, dusted and straightened up all the usual (and unusual) clutter centers of the house.

Bright and early this morning, because playgroup is at 10am, I cleaned the foyer, shook out the front mat, swept the porch, steps and walkway. Back inside, I shoved the Drake’s empty boxes into his closet, made the bed with spread and pillows, made LD’s bed, made sure I had snacks, juice and coffee (with accessories) accessible on the kitchen counter. Did I mention whipping out the vacuum and to my horror, it was not picking up even the smallest of particles? No….. YES. When I got to LD’s bedroom, the room that the kids would surely visit, it spit out dust balls the size of my hand, accompanied by sprays of shimmering dust particles… Mission Control, we have a p-r-o-b-l-e-m! After digging out a clothing store tag from the hose, I got all most some whatever-dust-I-got-I-got off the floor.  Oh, then I showered without washing my hair.

10:00am…. 10:05am….. 10:10am. I think that was when the first of the mommies got here. We all had a nice time, well, I know that I did. Little Drake even did a great job sharing his toys, even though he had his moments. Two hours later, they were gone and I was left with a day of leisurely guilt-free time. Unfortunately, the Drake will not be home until late. I was also supposed to have people here from this Mom’s club, but nobody responded to the event on our calendar; but Drake had already made his plans.

Oh well, just another day in the life. Oh, and here’s a present, blast from the past for reading this far:

~Dragon’s Yen~

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