Update

It’s been nearly a month since my last entry.  So what’s new?

A lot.

I discovered that I can still get lost in translation.  I was at the store trying on bathing suits in late January.  Note to self: bad time to stand under unflattering fluorescent lighting, squeeze my pasty white body into Lycra, and stare at myself half naked in a three-way mirror.  Nonetheless, I endured and prevailed.  At the till (i.e. checkout counter – notice my use of British vernacular), the saleslady exclaimed, “We are all admiring your costume”.  I looked down at my rather ordinary outfit:  jeans, sweater, scarf, boots….they thought I was wearing a costume?  Of what?  An unglamorous middle-aged woman trying to stay warm?  Then it dawned on me.  They liked my bathing costume…so much for my mastery of British vernacular.

The bathing costume was purchased for the trip I took to Miami with Jackie and my parents during her school break.  I have a few tips:

  1. Don’t visit South Beach before the big International Boat Show.   A 15 minute drive down the strip becomes a one hour bumper to bumper traffic ordeal.
  2. Don’t count on consistent warmth and sunshine in February.  Winds kicked up, clouds rolled in, and temperatures dropped as we arrived.
  3. Don’t get offended when your teenager gladly accepts bear hugs from her grandparents but then loudly proclaims to you that “she doesn’t like to be touched!”

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My favorite part of the trip was a reunion with relatives including my beloved Uncle Nick and my dear Aunt Lee and Uncle Tony, my grandpa’s brother.  These two are are 95 years young.  They live unassisted in their own condo located on the second floor with no elevator.  They are spry and spirited.  Even more amazing, they still hold hands after over 6 decades together.  They were set up by buddies of his from the war.  Apparently, his buddy showed him a photograph of my Aunt Lee and her friends.  As My Uncle Tony tells it, he took one look at her dimpled smile, pointed to her and declared, “That one!”  She’s still the one to him after all these years. What an inspiration.

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Jackie then went on to the Keys for a Dad/Daughter adventure with good friends.  The dads ran a packed schedule of wrestling alligators, catching barracudas, snorkeling in the sea, and swimming with the dolphins.  According to Jackie it was the “funnest trip ever” (grammar is overrated).  Apparently, it was the cleanest trip ever, as the girls soaked in a bubble bath every afternoon in the tub on their balcony.

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While the girls were basking in bubbles, I snuck in a quick visit to Greenwich and Lawrenceville.  My homecomings are now ho-hum.  You’re here again?  Did you move back?  My friends don’t even hug me goodbye.  They just tell me they’ll see me in a few weeks when I pop over the pond again.

Of course, Lucy was also on holiday.  After the dove killing episode, we decided to try a new boarding option.  This time she was off to Wales to reside at the House of Mutt which bills itself as a retreat for “dogs of distinction”.   At this “doggie paradise” they offer:  No kennels, no cages, no stress: just holiday.  This sounds more like Lucy’s kind of place.  Upon delivery home, there were no report cards with failing marks, no analyses of her taste for sheep poop, and no charge for dove deaths.  Instead, there was a lovely photo collage of Lucy and her pooch pals romping through the fields, chomping on sticks, lounging on the sofa, and leaping into streams.  Doggie paradise indeed.

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Holiday is over.  Reality returns.  The next adventure awaits….

 

 

 

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