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Posts Tagged ‘Travel’

Touch Points

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on March 10, 2026| Leave a Comment »

Our twin Grandbabies are learning to walk. They have push carts and ride-on trikes and their parents’ fingers to hold, but soon enough they will venture out on their own steam. Tiny steps, then stopping to look back; are we good? And we adults will clap and tell them how wonderful they are to explore the world upright, from point A to point B. Soon they will be leaving the couch behind and walking across the living room floor, and sure at times they will fall. It’s all part of the process.

After Sunday’s celebration of International Women’s Day, this morning I read a disturbing essay on Substack titled, “Never Eat With Women.” As usual, Anand Giridharadas’ take on the Epstein Class is lucid and enlightening. He had combed through pictures of the Epstein files and noticed something – apart from the parties with young women and girls posing in compromising positions, there were no women sitting down at tables where men had gathered for a meal. None. https://open.substack.com/pub/anandwrites/p/never-eat-with-women?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web

Now I guess the Justice Department might be withholding more pictures. The DOJ recently removed approximately 47,635 files from public view claiming they were redundant and needed further redactions. Honestly I’m not sure how many files are left, thousands, tens of thousands, millions? And maybe that’s the point, overwhelm the press with data, expose the victims, and hold back the FBI notes on that 13 year old who claimed our President raped her.

“The woman who directly named Trump in her abuse allegation claimed that around 1983, when she was around 13 years old, Epstein introduced her to Trump, “who subsequently forced her head down to his exposed penis which she subsequently bit. In response, Trump punched her in the head and kicked her out.” Out of more than 3 million pages of files released by the Justice Department in recent months, this specific allegation against Trump appears only in copies of the FBI list of claims and the DOJ slideshow. But a review of FBI case file logs and discovery documents turned over to Maxwell and her attorneys in the criminal case against her point to one place the claim could have come from — and how serious investigators took it.” https://www.npr.org/2026/02/24/nx-s1-5723968/epstein-files-trump-accusation-maxwell“

But back to the billionaire bros who like to dine amongst themselves. Anand’s point is that the 1% are very different from you and me in that they have fewer checkpoints in their day to day life. In their private mansions, their yachts and their jets, life is choreographed like an episode of Downton Abbey. Everything is designed to run smoothly, they rarely have to deal with the common folk. Think about Spring Break, maybe your family is trying to connect to a flight for Paris, in say Chicago, but weather is going to make this impossible. You are going to have to deal with ticket agents, gate agents, TSA agents, people on the phone (if you’re lucky) and of course your children, and maybe even passengers on the plane, if you manage to board – all of these personal interactions combine to make “touch points.” An average family on vacation, flying from one place to another, has many touch points.

OTOH, Anand quotes a luxury jet employee: “When you fly commercial, there are more than 700 touch points,” says Alexandra Price, brand communications manager at the jet-charter company VistaJet. “When you fly private, it’s just 20.” And of course, when you OWN the jet and can gift a ride to a royal and his family, well that gives you unlimited access to the halls of power. And the number of touch points goes down into the single digits. And you might think you are untouchable, that you can get away with murder on Park Avenue.

We are now into the second week of a war the American people want no part of, and the American president has yet to explain despite his rambling speech yesterday. Operation Epic Fury has resulted in almost 1,500 deaths in Iran, including hundreds of civilians. Regional fighting has spilled over into Lebanon where 400 have been killed, and a dozen in Israel. Last night, another US soldier was returned in a body bag to Dover Air Force Base, making that seven so far, with an eighth dead American not yet returned.

If we started connecting the dots, the touch points of this administration make no sense, unless you count the money the president’s family is making from his connections and predictions market. Buried in the weeds of some independent reporting we can read what’s driving their epic fury. Greed wins out over glory every time.

Don’t you wish some judge would order Mr T to sit down to a dinner, not hamburgers mind you, with Senator Elizabeth Warren? I can only hope that by the time these two grow up we’ll have elected a woman president…

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Holding Two Truths

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on February 25, 2026| Leave a Comment »

We flew into BNA in the dead of night, back to chilly Nashville after a whirlwind birthday weekend with our One Year Old Grands. California was surprisingly green and rainy at first, but we didn’t mind. Memories of the NICU softened into a highlight reel of kind, competent nurses and long walks around Pasadena while we waited for the Twins to grow into themselves. And so they did. Music fills their home, and so our baby girls are fierce dancers and ready to perambulate!

The Twins’ Birthday coincided with the Chinese New Year; 2026 is the Year of the Horse that begins with the new moon and celebrations can last for weeks. Like Passover and Easter, it is considered a spring holiday; families will cook traditional foods and often give children tiny red envelopes with money to symbolize good luck and prosperity. Almost like finding the hidden matzoh, no? Aunt Kiki told us our baby girls have some Asian heritage since her Great Grandmother was Chinese.

We strolled among the red lanterns and drummers in the Garden of Flowing Fragrance at Huntington Botanical Gardens. “A number of flowers have special New Year’s significance in Chinese culture, including plum blossoms (symbolizing the beginning of spring), peonies (prosperity), narcissus (longevity), and other blooms such as orchids, forsythia, camellias, and golden mums.” We met a colorful dragon and watched Koi swim under foot bridges. Swimming comes naturally to our baby dumplings, they had just been in the Rose Bowl pool with their Daddy and PopBob.

The sun came out for their birthday party in the park the next day. Dogs came with balloons tied to their collars, children ran around blankets spread under trees like an Impressionist painting. I loved catching up with their creative friends and managed not to fall. Only falling deeper in love with my son’s wife, who juggled party planning and babies with grace. Since the Rocker has moved his studio into town, Kiki now has a pull-out sofa in her home office, and I was sorely tempted to stay longer.

I asked Bob how I managed to drive nine hours from Charlottesville to Nashville when the Love Bug was tiny. He just looked at me and said, “You were 13 years younger.”

I felt very old indeed last night while I tried to stay awake for the State of the Union. It was political theatre, reality TV. Or at least Mr T’s deluded version of reality. The NYTimes called it a “Tedious tiresome performance.” Republicans bobbing up and down, up and down in their seats. Hockey players and medals galore. I was waiting for him to go off script, hoping maybe the teleprompter might fail. All he did was smirk at the few Democrats in the House. Elizabeth Warren was paying attention, some were caught sleeping. One was yelling and yet another had to be forcibly removed with his sign scolding Mr T for a racist video he posted.

SCOTUS sat patiently in the front row, only to be derided by him for their recent decision on tariffs. No problem, he said, he’ll do a work-around. After all, he thinks he’s a king. I had enough and went to bed early.

I dreamt about singing to the Twins, about wheels on buses and Yiddish lullabies. And I woke thinking about Juan Ramirez, a devoted husband and father who ICE recently captured in Nashville, a worker who is here legally with documentation. He is not a criminal, and has now disappeared, leaving his wife, a young child and a ten day old baby behind. This is our alternate truth, our American paradox.

I was in charge of the Twins while the crew cleaned up!

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Wanna Nosh?

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on February 17, 2026| Leave a Comment »

What a weekend!

Bob and I went glamping; we drove for two hours to Fall Creek Falls State Park in the easternmost corner of TN to meet up with our Germantown friends. We filled two cabins with great food, laughter and two new puppies. The meals we would create were pre-planned – Yoko and I got Valentine’s Day! February may be a short month, but it’s chock full of meaning. The Rocker and Aunt Kiki celebrated their ninth wedding anniversary, and their Twins are about to turn ONE! So it seems fitting that a holiday about love should be nestled in the middle.

I told Yoko I wanted to recreate the Bride’s wedding dinner under a tent on Thomas Jefferson’s mountain. I’d found an interesting take on shrimp and grits in the NYTimes Cooking App. This was also Grandma’s Ada favorite meal to order once she moved South. Yoko volunteered to make a chocolate cake with strawberries and whipped cream for dessert. Perfect. She would bake bread, and I would do a cheese plate as an appetizer. Also known as a nosh in Yiddish circles.

“Did you eat?“

There are certain cultures where that question is moot, since food will be presented whether you are hungry or not. When Bob and I landed at our cousin Peggy’s house during the deep freeze, she laid out a beautiful loaf of banana bread, followed by a pot of tea complete with lemons. I never felt so completely cared for in my life. It wasn’t just that our house was encased in ice and the temperature was plummeting, it was an all encompassing feeling of sanctuary. We had landed in a safe place with loved ones who didn’t ask anything of us except our attention to the snack on the table. She was nourishing our souls.

So of course I had to tell my glamping girlfriends about an article I’d read in the NYTimes about snacks. They all pulled out their phones to follow Snaxshot on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/snaxshot/?hl=en. Andrea Hernandez is not a dietician, but she was into marketing and noticed something about food during the pandemic. She is akin to a cultural anthropologist, comparing the fascination with “Fiber” in the 50s and 60s to today’s fixation on Protein and prebiotic sodas like Olipop – designed with 9 grams of plant-based fiber to enhance digestive health! I was actually shocked when I was asked for my ID in order to buy cans of a non-alcoholic sparkling raspberry rose for our Valentine dinner. What’s up with that?

Hernandez has become “… a kind of snacking Nostradamus. ‘When Andrea covers a product or a shift, it tends to ripple within the industry,’ said Melanie Masarin, the founder of the nonalcoholic aperitif brand Ghia, in an email, noting that Ms. Hernández’s observations have a way of showing up in group chats, brand conversations and beyond.… According to data from the consumer research firm NIQ, the (snack) market was worth $213 billion in the latest 52-week period. “It used to be like, I would go to the grocery store, I could choose between Kraft or Annie’s or homemade macaroni and cheese,” said Oren John, a branding and marketing creator based in Orange County, Calif., and one of Snaxshot’s early fans. ‘Now I have 45 macaroni and cheese options.’” https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/29/dining/andrea-hernandez-snaxshot.html?searchResultPosition=5

If you’re lucky enough to live as long as I have, you’ve probably noticed this shift in snack food. Our mothers would put out nuts and maybe some Chex mix when company was coming. Today there’s an entire industry devoted to charcuterie boards. Dr Jim gifted us an incredible board for the holidays, complete with bowls and tiny forks and knives! Thanks big brother. Remember when a potato chip was simply a potato chip? Now they can be baked, flavored and shaped to hold a cupful of guacamole. In fact, chips can take up an entire aisle in the grocery store, and sold out faster than wings before the Benito Bowl.

In a world where MAHA has tipped the food triangle on its side, it’s up to us to decide what to put on our family’s table, and what kind of a nosh might be healthy and not just trendy. When we were in Mexico, the Twins were introduced to some of the last remaining food allergens for babies. It helps to have a few doctors nearby when they took their first bite of shellfish! Thankfully, they happen to love peanut butter, a uniquely American spread!

What do you snack on while watching the Winter Olympics? That’s Yoko on the left, and Bob is standing with the ladies. I’m third from the right with my hiking stick. I guess I really am shrinking!

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Profiles

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on December 30, 2025| Leave a Comment »

I used to write one page biographies for a newspaper. Usually it was a Sunday edition, “Write about an ordinary person doing something extraordinary,” my editor would say. It was nice to have some autonomy; to be able to pick my subject and sit down with them for an hour or two. I didn’t like doing phone interviews and Zoom was just a thing my cat did on occasion. I found that if you listen long enough, and look into someone’s eyes, you can always find a kernel of truth in their story. The story they tell themselves.

Lately journalists have delved into the depths of MAGA world. While I was traveling last week with the family, I searched high and low for the new Vanity Fair in foreign and domestic airports. I was dying to read the profile of Mr T’s Chief of Staff, Susie Wiles. Going back decades, a total news blackout has been our custom on vacation – so no TV, no NYTimes (except for the Games section). But if I could just get my hands on the magazine… and sorry to say, the new Vanity Fair had not hit the news stands yet.

Wiles intrigued me. She looked like one of my Irish aunts – petite, grey-haired bob, sweet, funny, baking pies and cookies for holidays. But she was the person behind the President of these United States, and also sitting on his right side and steering the ship. The second most powerful political figure in the world – in fact, she is the first woman to hold this White House position! And all I could get on social media was that Wiles said Mr T has an “alcoholic’s personality.” What does that even mean?

According to the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation, there are a number of traits that many alcoholics seem to suffer from: “…low frustration tolerance; impulsivity; low rejection threshold; low sense of one’s own worth; and they are loners and afraid of intimacy.” Maybe some of that is true, but a low sense of Mr T’s worth? If anything, the POTUS is a would be king, a narcissist in every sense of that word. My question is what does this description of her boss say about Wiles?

Wiles mentions that she grew up with an alcoholic father. But maybe she feels like the wife of an alcoholic – always pleading for him to reconsider impulsive decisions, stepping on eggshells whenever she is around him. It was ironic to learn that she also worked for Ronald Reagan, as a scheduler and in his Labor Department. Mostly she worked on Republican campaigns over the years with no experience in the federal government. I picture her as a bullfighter, a highly choreographed master manipulator of the bull in the White House.

And now Marjorie Taylor Greene, the MAGA boss lady turned ‘traitor,’ has earned herself a profile in the NYTimes Magazine. This turncoat Representative from Georgia always turned me off. I dismissed her as a kook. But reporter Robert Draper interviewed her before and after her conversion and I’m willing to believe he captured her journey perfectly. It all started when she spoke with some of the Epstein victims and threatened to release the names of the powerful men involved. Mr T’s response, on speakerphone in her Congressional office, was so loud and abusive everyone heard him claiming not to want some of his friends hurt. (wink, wink).

In Greene’s mind this represented “… everything wrong with Washington,” adding that it was a story of “rich, powerful elites doing horrible things and getting away with it. And the women are the victims.” https://www.nytimes.com/2025/12/29/magazine/marjorie-taylor-greene-interview-takeaways.html?unlocked_article_code=1.AlA.AFU7.jW9VSVlIj-p4&smid=url-share

Gone are the days when Martha Mitchell could be gaslit for telling the truth about Watergate. I believe Greene has had a change of heart and I’m sorry she is resigning her seat in the new year. But I’m glad independent journalists are doing their jobs. I’d love to get Greene and Wiles in a room together, two different generations of women in the Republican stratosphere. Wiles attended the Academy of the Holy Angels in NJ so I’m presuming she’s Catholic or catholic-light-Episcopalian, and Greene makes a big point about being a Christian. Surely they could agree about something?

We’re back in Nashville and I’m missing my morning cuddles with the Grandbabies. They are water nymphs, I loved watching them discover new birds and flowers at our cozy cottage. They are on the move and have just learned how to share their toys. Which is more than I can say about the alcoholic/adolescent/addled boys in the White House.

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Homecoming

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2025| Leave a Comment »

Isn’t it funny how US customs doesn’t ask why you’ve returned home after a trip? I mean, when you leave you need a reason to visit other countries, but returning? Not so much. We actually did customs in Calgary – I stood before a camera-type-I-pad device that snapped a picture and then said “Welcome Christine!” Weird! Since we are Global Entry screened, it almost seemed too easy. Where are the harried agents looking you up and down and asking if you have anything to declare?

YES. I declare that despite the cold and the rain, Canadians seem happier than Americans – and it wasn’t just the Blue Jays win!

I came back from our Vancouver Island adventure smuggling pockets full of snotty tissues. Our very last day in British Columbia I woke with a tickle in my throat, thank you Bob who had been coughing for days. This didn’t stop us hopping onboard a water taxi to search out the best fish and chips on Fisherman’s Wharf. We were on a mission. Have you ever watched the PBS show, “Samantha Brown’s Places to Love?” Well I’m addicted.

Home

There’s just something about her generosity of spirit that makes hers a travel show worth watching. And since I hope that you, like my family, are contributors to public broadcasting, you’ll be able to stream all her work on PBS Passports. Anyhow, she did a piece on Victoria, BC that had us taking mad notes! We visited a jigsaw puzzle shop she recommended that featured local artists’ work all in wood and ordered two to be delivered home – one of an orca whale with all the tiny pieces resembling a whale!

We walked in from the rain, and I said I’d expected their shop to be on a small side street; the lovely saleswoman told me that after Samantha’s visit (who is also lovely of course), they’d had to move to a larger place on the main street. https://puzzlelab.com/

After our delicious fishy lunch, we hopped onboard another water taxi to visit Chinatown. This is the oldest Chinatown in North America and it didn’t disappoint. Of course we’d already gone whale watching earlier in the week, and managed to spy an elusive sea otter, along with lots of seals and a few humpback whales. One was identified as “Exclamation” because of his gigantic exclamation point on his tail. Most have migrated south by this time, preferring the warmer waters of Mexico for calving.

I remembered Ada’s 90th Birthday Bash in Cabo; the tiny motorboat we piled into to see mama whales and babies cavorting. At least in BC, the Prince of Whales was a much bigger boat and they served us hot chocolate!

My cold is finally getting better, but I’ve been quarantined from our little Nashville family for a week. So I had to leave the otter socks, lumberjack PJs, and books I got for the Grands on their porch. Like the tiny porcelain cat I found in Chinatown, my arm is perpetually waving across the distance.

Like this administration, a government unfunded, pulling away from our closest trade neighbor. Now Canada too is looking towards Asia. “Faced with a trade war with the United States, Canada’s biggest trading partner, Mr. Carney has set an ambitious goal of doubling Canadian exports to other countries within a decade. Expanding trade with Asia is central to Mr. Carney’s strategy.” NYTimes.

Here I am in my Victorian “Elsbeth” hat and a vintage green, cashmere sweater I found at the Crossroads Pets’ fundraiser. We were so cold people!

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On the Move

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on October 15, 2025| Leave a Comment »

Just boarded a plane for Vancouver. The last time I was in Canada was 1968, and it wasn’t a pleasant trip. Starter marriage and all. But this time I’ll be seeing whales, strolling through gardens, and ogling totem poles with my main squeeze.

Before Eugene Levy called himself a reluctant traveler, I held that title. I would be perfectly happy never leaving home, although meeting Prince William in Levy’s last episode looked incredible. Until the Lady Diana debacle, I loved the Royal Family… then Meghan and Harry happened.

Maybe William and Kate will revitalize the Crown?

We’ve just spent a quick week with the Rocker’s little family in California. Our twin Princesses are on the move, crawling and trying to stand. Kiki will.be returning to work next week, one of the most bittersweet transitions in a young mother’s life. Bob helped them baby proof the house, I cooked a bit, and we had lots of adventures.

We landed in Vancouver and I forgot we’d have to tell the Customs Agent why we were here – I wanted to say we were fugitives looking for a safe place to land, we were fantasizing about immigrating. But instead I said “Personal.”

I heard that the hostages have been released from Gaza. I read that our military is still shooting boats out of the Caribbean. And the best news of all is that major media outlets said NO to the Pentagon’s attempt to create a propaganda machine. Take that Hegseth.

I guess I was lucky writing for the Two River Times. My editor loved when I ruffled feathers in our Jersey Shore town. I reported only the truth, and sometimes the truth hurt. But it sold more newspapers and that was the business model after all. When a democracy fails, the free press is the first to go, and so we have hope today.

Hope for a lasting peace in the Middle East. Hope for the Rule of Law. Hope for the First Amendment. And hope that our baby girls will always delight in giant giraffes.

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Road Signs

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on September 30, 2025| Leave a Comment »

It was my birthday weekend, and the one year anniversary of Hurricane Helene. Bob and I packed up for a long weekend in Asheville, NC with the Big Chill OGs – the original members of our NJ high school class of 1966. We sang, we cooked, we reminisced. We complained about our ailments, but not too much. We saw a glass blowing demonstration in the River Arts District https://www.riverartsdistrict.com/artists-by-medium/ ; one side of the district was washed away, but the other side survived.

The Bride told me that Asheville was a major distributor in the Southeast of the clay that potters use to throw their creations. So of course we went shopping and I found a blue butter dish! One of the merchants in a small town said there were Class IV rapids flowing down his main street during the hurricane. He had to move his coffee shop, but he’s still here… All in all, Asheville is rebuilding with a vengeance.

On our way home I couldn’t help but think about my catastrophic fall last year, the day before election day. Has it only been a year? I’m rebuilding too – walking with hiking sticks, doing Pilates-like exercise, eating calcium-rich foods, getting Reclast infusions! And on our way home to Nashville on I40, from one Blue Dot to another, I couldn’t help but notice these road signs:

“Get Right With God”

Seen on the side of a dilapidated barn. I was thinking I was getting more Left with God but then again, whose God are we talking about?

“Distillery and Prison Tour”

No prison touring for me! But I’ve always wanted to do that whiskey tour of the actual, original Jack Daniel’s distiller – the previously enslaved Nathan ‘Nearest’ Green. https://unclenearest.com/distillery/

TRUMP MAGA Super Store

NO thank you.

“Regret Taking the Abortion Pill?”

Well, we Boomers didn’t have any Mefepristone back in the day. Think about it. Life would have been a lot easier for us – no back-street abortions, no getting septic and compromising our reproductive future, no dying. No being shipped off to ‘homes’ and being forced to deliver a baby and then give it up for adoption.

ARRESTED? Call (this lawyer)

Nope… never been arrested. But there’s still time.

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the Rose, the Thorn and the Caterpillar

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on July 29, 2025| Leave a Comment »

Anyone alive in the era of Chevy Chase vacation comedies knows how to play travel games with kids while driving, like memory games or counting license plates from a certain state. “I spy with my little eye…” Well, since the Bride and Groom are rather old school, I’m happy to report our Grands are experts and one favorite is “the Rose and the Thorn.” On the trip home, they recount the highs and lows of their vacation. I can’t wait to hear, but meanwhile…

“Wanna play Boggle?” Bob gives me the look. “No…” “What about Scrabble?” Bob gives me the look again.

Eventually we sit down in my snug, him on his iPad and me at my desk, to tackle the New York Times Puzzles. Like toddlers in parallel play, we start with Strands and move on to Wordle and Connections. We share possible answers and take turns leading. If the mood strikes, we might even try the Mini Crossword.

Do you like to play games? I love to play games, but Bob is another story. He grew up with two brothers in a cerebral family of doctors. His mother listened to opera. It didn’t help that he just wasn’t naturally athletic, he even disdained golf! In Yiddish, he was what you might call lovingly a klutz – “Klutz (rhymes with “what’s”) is Yiddish for “piece of wood,” and refers to a person who is clumsy.” After his cerebellar stroke, I told the kids that Dad would just be a little klutzier than usual.

I grew up playing color war at Camp St Joseph; every day, with every sport, we’d gain (or lose) points for our team. It was cut throat, even our Jacks games on the cabin porch were merciless. At home I’d play Scrabble with Nell and the Flapper and chess with my brother. I played cards with Daddy Jim almost every night after supper, we’d keep pennies in a cigar box for the occasion. Today, my favorite game to play is backgammon which I recently found out originated in ancient Egypt! I have a few sets of backgammon; one is small and magnetic for travel, and another is hand-carved sitting proudly on a vintage game table in the family room.

Only the not-so-L’il Pumpkin will play backgammon with me because supposedly I win all the time??!

But I’m ready to branch out to MahJongg! Last month after dropping the Love Bug off at Temple for her Bat Mitzvah practice, I discovered a social hall filled with middle-aged/elderly/women playing MahJongg in the middle of the day. I thought I’d died and went to heaven. How could I join this group? Unfortunately, their next beginner session was during our California vacation. Then the Bride informed me that she wants to learn how to play too! It seems that after the pandemic, a younger generation was looking for a reason to build community, and not by going to bars or playing Bingo!

 “The game trended in the U.S. in the 1920s after an executive who had lived in China introduced it to well-to-do friends in California. A group of Jewish American women who were fans of the game created the National Mah Jongg League in 1937, developing an American style of the game and creating a lasting affinity for it within a culture that, like the Chinese, was othered in America.“

I’ve watched my friend Les play MahJongg. She’s had a game going for years; every month they travel to a different house but it’s at night since some of the women are still working. I love the aesthetics of the game – the feel of the tiles, the sound of the shuffling and the beautiful carvings. I’d love to find an old Bakelite set. And of course, any excuse to get a group of like-minded women together is a good day in my book!

Luckily, Les has offered to teach us – the Bug too! She’s not putting her house on the market quite yet, so we’ll have time to learn. And she told me about an addendum to the Rose and Thorn game. After you’ve recounted all the highlights (like seeing dolphins) and lowlights (like being stung by a jellyfish) you add the Caterpillar. In other words, you set some goals for the next trip! Maybe we take in an opera? Aspirational thinking, I love it!

Here is the Big Chill at our Y2K trip to Holden Beach. Strangely enough, Lyle put me in charge of the entertainment. The Bride stayed behind in Rumson to throw her own party.

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Are We There Yet?

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on July 22, 2025| Leave a Comment »

It’s a glorious, hot morning in Nashville. I’ve just emerged from my neighbor’s pool after a blissful hour of meditative aquatherapy – I breathe in, I’m a mountain. I breathe out I’m strong. Every morning Les sends me a text, “The gate’s open,” which means come over anytime and swim. I am a lucky duck. First for surviving a near fatal fall in November, and also for raising adult children who don’t mind our company! But especially for my friend and neighbor Les and her sparkling pool. Sunflowers peek over the fence and rabbits and hummingbirds watch my progress.

But Les and her husband have informed me they are downsizing and planning to move to a townhome. It’s not easy making friends in your 70s. For days I’ve been walking around in a funk; I know that she and her husband will still be in Nashville just a short car ride away, but still it’s a loss. There will be no more “porch surprises” of her latest baking spree, no more morning texts, no more walks in the neighborhood. Bob joked that they will have to put a rider in the contract of their buyer – home comes with well established pool boy and girl!

I dream about building a small bungalow colony surrounding a pool for our family, and extended family.

After this last trip, confirming that our newest California grandbabies are mini-mermaids, I’m determined to make more memories. And it seems that multigenerational travel is trending these days, although we’ve been traveling together for ages. We celebrated Great Grandma Ada’s 90th birthday in Mexico. We’ve spent a few weeks almost every winter for forty years on an island in the French West Indies; not counting the earlier spring visits to Martha’s Vineyard. We even went to Hawaii together after one country closed its borders during the pandemic.

But what if we had one place, a summer retreat to call our own, maybe near a lake?

“The benefits of multigenerational trips are numerous. In larger groups, for example, child-care responsibilities can be shared across family members, allowing parents to take a breather. But the real value of these trips might be how they give relatives an opportunity to freshen their perception of the people they’ve known for perhaps their entire life. Travel can take us out of our familiar contexts, with their routines and set roles, and offer people a chance to see one another differently. A multigenerational vacation can be a welcome reminder that the identities that our parents, children, and other relatives know us by aren’t set in stone.” https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2023/12/large-multigenerational-family-vacation-parents-relatives/676382/?gift=MZkyOCULmn5OA_9_ikIP-xkc3hV2FOFyZx-5RQD57Rw&utm_source=copy-link&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=share

I remember when I went waterskiing on a trip once, and my teenage children looked at me like I had two heads! Or that time we put a pre-teen Rocker on a scooter and he took off like he was born to drive it.

Our Grands are off visiting their Paternal Northern Grandparents in the great state of Virginia. The place where we built our dream home overlooking the Blue Ridge. But they live in Northern VA, close to national monuments and museums. It’s become a tradition for them to spend that last week before school starts with the Groom’s family. And just last week, the Groom’s brother Uncle Dan and his wife Natalie welcomed the newest cousin to their family, another red-headed baby boy! Big Congratulations!! They already have a three year old, so counting the L’il Pumpkin that makes three boys!

If you are traveling this summer, I hope everything goes smoothly. May your planes be on time, and may your seat mate be healthy. May you adapt gracefully to the limitations of aging. And if you are struggling with loss, may you find a way to reframe your grief. Because we are all on a journey, and nothing is set in stone.

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Summer Soup

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on July 15, 2025| 2 Comments »

We’re back to the hazy, hot, and humid South. Southern summer soup!

I woke to heavy condensation on our old house windows and the possibility of storms in the afternoon. What surprised me most was the constant chatter of insects! You may have guessed, the whole Nashville family went to visit our California branch last week; to play with the Twins and give them their first swim lesson. Almost five months old, our baby girls had an abundance of arms to hold them and proved to be excellent travelers and doggy paddlers.

Recently, the Bride asked me about our Spring/Summer sojourns to Martha’s Vineyard with our friends Lee and Albert when she was a baby. She was talking with a girlfriend who had a family home on the island and told me she didn’t remember where we stayed… But I remember dancing in a cowboy hat, meeting Carly Simon in a dress shop, buying fish straight off the pier, digging up clams on Menemsha Pond. I remember the wooden carousel in Oak Bluffs. I remember riding my bike all over the island, past the pink rosa rugosa hedges with her blond curls tickling the back of my arms from her baby seat perch. We didn’t wear helmets then.

“Gay Head,” I said. We’d stay near the colorful clay cliffs on the wild side of the Vineyard.

But Gay Head hasn’t existed for over twenty years, which is why my daughter’s friend never heard of it. The name of the town was changed back to its Native American “Aquinnah” – home of the Wampanoag people. Which led me down the path of investigating the island’s history. At about the same time in the early aughts, the tribe had voted on whether or not to allow gambling, in the form of bingo, on the island. The vote was NO.

When we packed up the crew to drive from LA to Malibu, I was reminded of packing up a caravan for our trip from the Berkshires to the Woods Hole Ferry. Only this time it was the Bride making sure we had snacks for the Bug and the Pumpkin. The Rocker and Aunt Kiki timed the trip to coincide with the babies’ nap schedule – they had tiny swimsuits and sun hats and even sunglasses. Our Grand’s newest cousins were hitting the pool with all the right fashion notes.

I hope Bob finds the photo of me holding our dog Bones’ leash with one hand and the toddler Bride’s hand with the other waiting for the ferry. She is wearing one of her favorite twirly skirts and has kicked out one leg mid-pirouette.

I am determined to visit the island again that populated my dreams for most of my life. My BFF Lee and her husband Al live on Vineyard Haven full time now. I imagine we attended the Summer Institute last week together to listen to NY Times journalists Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey talk about their investigation into Harvey Weinstein and jump-starting the #MeToo movement. https://vineyardgazette.com/news/2025/07/13/summer-institute-opens-journalists-who-inspired-metoo-movement

After all, it was Lee who encouraged me to write and submit an essay to the Berkshire Eagle. Back when the Bride was a baby and I was hanging diapers outside in the sun, she believed in me, always, and I adored her, my Convent of the Sacred Heart kickass/fellowJerseygirl/lawyer/friend. We picked ticks off our dogs together and didn’t mind the heat and humidity at all.

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