Tuesday, August 19, 2008


Three years ago dear husband and two friends bought an old boat. They got it for a song. Well, not literally, but it was very inexpensive. It is a 62 foot long trawler formerly used as a "head boat" (meaning people pay by the head to go out fishing without it being chartered) on the Delaware Bay. While bringing it in for repairs by the previous owner it was dropped and barely withstood total damage. Husband saw beyond the rust and crud and saw a beautiful sight.

This boat, or as I somewhat unaffectionately refer to as "that *#&! boat", has given these men hours and hours and hours of fun. It is fitted to sleep six people comfortably and double that uncomfortably. It has two bathrooms (I mean heads), tiled with real toilets. There is a full kitchen and tons of electronic things that I don't understand. It is almost finished. It is supposed to be put in the water in a few weeks and the rest of it will be completed after it is in. The name of the boat is "Last Chance" -- meaning it may be their last chance to take it from Delaware to Florida via the Inland Waterway. This has been husband's dream for many years.

Everyone around here knows about this boat. It attracts quite a bit of attention because of its history and its size.

In all her glory.

This picture was taken a few days ago when they moved this giant crane thing under it to adjust the supports to facilitate painting the bottom.

Three happy guys.

So wish us luck. I am not a boating person, but I may end up to be for brief periods of time!

Friday, August 08, 2008


Here are some pictures from my recent vacation in New Hampshire:

Robert Frost's house. We visited his farm in New Hampshire. He is one of my favorite poets.

Mt. Washington is near North Conway and it is a big thing to drive or ride up to the top which is over 6000 feet up. There are several actual climate changes on the mountain. It was foggy that day so we didn't make the trip, but you can see the temperature on this sign at the visitor's center. It was about seventy degrees where we were standing.

I like cemeteries and we discovered this wonderful old one on a back road. Look at this wonderful stone wall which you see all over New Hampshire, which is called The Granite State.

Here is the back of the cottage we rent.

Grandson and friend. The boys love to catch little creatures by the lake.

Moultonborough General Store - just part of their candy selection.

View from the cottage. We even had loons on the lake!

My sister was determined to make some "s'mores." We had bought a tiny little grill at Walmart just in case the gas grill at the cottage wasn't working (which it wasn't). I think she managed to get one s'more out of the waning flame.

My sister and I decided to do something silly, so we had henna designs drawn on our hands. Linda's is on her hand (both sides) and mine is on my wrist. I really liked having that intricate and pretty "bracelet". The artist who did them said they would last at least a week, but Linda's was disappearing fast after a few days. The photo shows them after they were just done. The paint kind of peels off and leaves a reddish tint to the skin which is really quite pretty. The custom of this originates in eastern countries and are traditionally done for weddings and special occasions.

Thanks for stopping by!

Sunday, August 03, 2008


I am sixty-two years old. There is no getting away from it anymore. I have never fibbed about my age and I want to accept the advancing years with as much grace as I can. I have friends who have had or plan to have cosmetic surgery of various sorts: reductions, enlargements, enhancements. While I am not against anyone doing whatever they want to their own bodies, it is not for me. Along with the physical changes of these years, there are the mental. I still feel as though I am in my thirties - with all the hopes and plans for the future. The reality is different. I still wonder what I want to be when I grow up -- and then I remember my age. There are just so many years left. There are not fifty years ahead -- maybe if I am lucky another twenty years. Oh, but the dreams and plans are still there and some of them can come true. I think that part of the fun of it is in the dreaming. Perhaps I have a touch of Walter Mitty in me -- probably all of us do.

I started this post thinking about the things I would like to be when I "grow up." It has taken a different slant, so now back to the beginning. The first thing I can remember wanting to "be" was a dog breeder. My friend Ruth was going to be a horse breeder and we spent hours planning our stables and kennels and the names of our animals. We were seven years old.

When I had my first dog I wanted to be a veterinarian. When I was a "Candy Striper" volunteer in the hospital I wanted to be a nurse. Then I wanted to be a medical secretary and went to a school for that after high school. As an adult I decided to go back to school and become a psychologist or a social worker. Now I am a realtor. Totally not in keeping with my personality traits, but here I am. What do I want to be next?

My father was a "P.R. (public relations) man." He worked for a major museum in Philadelphia and was well-liked and well-respected. He was also a talented writer and instilled in me the desire to write well. I was told throughout school that I had the ability. I did nothing with it, but through the years there was always the tickle in the back of my brain to do something with this ability. However, the more I read the more I doubted that I had what it took to be a writer. I stopped trying. I think I have had a thirty year writers block.

This blog helps. But even in this rather basic writing outlet, I still struggle to find anything to say that is worthwhile and interesting, much less creative. But the dream is in the doing sometimes. So here I am.

Thanks for listening.