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Posts Tagged ‘Travel’

Mesa Morning

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , on May 18, 2015| 1 Comment »

In the old days, Bob and I would travel together to medical conferences with some frequency. I toured historic sites while he schmoozed with colleagues (or rather attended lectures). It was a welcome break from the usual; seeing SanFrancisco, or Atlanta and Baltimore instead of shoveling snow in the Berkshires. But in the past few years I’ve stayed home, and I’m not sure why. Travel trauma? Apathy? Well today we awoke to an alien landscape, Arizona!

Bob is off to learn a few new tricks in his trade of Emergency Medicine. There will be a state of the art SIM lab and more dead bodies, yay. I’ve tagged along because when he’s done, later in the week, we’ll be visiting the Rocker and Ms Cait in California. LA is a mere one hour plane hop from here, but meanwhile what to do?

There are museums, a desert botanical garden and shopping. Since when did travel mean/equate shopping malls? There are premium outlet shopping malls, big southwest fashion malls, and a historic upscale designer district. I’ve got a strange feeling that the same stores you’d find in a shopping mall in NJ will be represented here. And walking around a garden in 90 degree heat isn’t my cup of tea so that leaves the museums. 

And since I’m currently reading “Alena” by Rachel Pastan, I’ve got the nomenclature for art down pat! It’s the story of a young woman who becomes a curator at a small museum on Cape Cod. It’s a little mystery, a little romance, and a lot of contemporary art talk. I am prepared to be moved by art, to get goosebumps, to expand my understanding of the process and see what an arid, brown landscape can reveal. 

Last night I watched the Call the Midwife finale on PBS which was luckily on early since we’ve switched time zones. I can’t rave enough about this period drama and one of the most profound subplots was the one about the doctor and his wife – who used to be a nun/midwife. I don’t want to spoil this for anyone, but it did give me chills. Especially because in the Berkshires I knew a woman who was affected by this “medical miracle.”

Art in any form reminds us of our humanity. The art of medicine, of painting, music or film. Sometimes even writing can take us away from our ultra mundane 21st Century lives. Now I’m off to explore and conquer the cactus!  

 

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A Sharing Society

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on May 15, 2015| 2 Comments »

Do you ever feel out of step? I hate to admit that our 50th high school reunion will be coming right up next year, because admitting that means the end of an era. The Class of ’66 was the first to stage a protest walk-out, to almost win the Principal of the Year award at a NY radio station. And we were not the first, and probably not the last, to send our young men off to fight a war we had no business fighting.

And for most of us, our Millennial children have paved the road to our Golden Years with lessons in technology. Every time I visit the Rocker, my iPhone gets a complete overhaul. Whenever I return from Nashville, my laptop is clean and moving faster along its wifi/cloud connectivity circuit. And even though I am pretty savvy with social media, sharing my thoughts on life through blogs, Twitter and Facebook, I’ve only recently entered into the non-virtual, non-fiction sharing society.

Now I understand that for some of us this is scary. After all, we’re used to booking hotel rooms when we travel. If you stay at one Hilton in Bermuda, the Hilton in Dallas will be a similar experience. Maybe they’ll have different pictures hanging on the walls. We know what to expect, we become frequent flyers, we humans are creatures of habit. The more adventurous might try staying at a quaint Bed and Breakfast on Martha’s Vineyard. But that’s about it. Until Airbnb.https://www.airbnb.com

I’m about to stay at my second Airbnb. The first time I let my son schedule the whole thing. After all, I was delivering a cat to LA, alone, and had no idea where his neighborhood was, plus he said the hotels were exorbitant. And I was delightfully surprised. The host gave my son the key before I arrived, and there was a bottle of wine waiting for me and coffee in the fridge for the morning. It didn’t matter that the TV was internet/Netlix/Hulu only. I wasn’t there to watch TV, in fact I listened to the Serial podcast on my downtime.

Eventually I met the host and his 3 Pit Bulls! We all had great fun on the patio. I wanted to book with him again, but the time Bob and I will be in California was already booked. Sooo, I started my own Airbnb account and started looking. The Rocker told me it’s all about the reviews – read them! And soon enough, Bob too will be experiencing this sharing society of which I speak.

I lorded it over the Bride that her old Mama had tried Airbnb before her, but now she has too, and she and the Groom have used Uber for getting around Nashville late at night. Since I’m usually not out partying anymore late at night, it may be awhile until I get to try this particular car sharing service. But it’s good to change it up every now and then; good for our brain, good for our soul. If you believe in Annie Dillard’s famous saying,“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives,” then let’s climb out of our automatic pilot frame of mind and take the wheel in this new society. Fifty years later, we can still learn a few new tricks.

And right on time, I read a Tweet by Peter Greenberg telling us what we “need to know” when booking through Airbnb. Maybe the travel industry is catching up with our kids after all? http://petergreenberg.com/2015/02/23/airbnb-tips-and-tricks-for-first-timers/

ps The Parlor Mob will be playing at the Skate and Surf Festival in Asbury park, NJ this Sunday – they should hit the World Stage around 2 pm!

Mother and Son

            Mother and Son

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The Weather and the Wolf

Posted in books, Country, Journaling, wedding, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 19, 2015| Leave a Comment »

It was 8 degrees this morning on my perch of the Blue Ridge. This is nose-hair freezing, eye watering, finger numbing cold, even if we still lived in the Berkshire Mountains. Which we don’t; we moved in part for warmer weather. But mostly to be closer to our daughter. Then she moved, to pursue her ER residency, to the ice capital of the South currently known as Nashville. And we’re all wondering why we didn’t follow the Rocker to LA right about now!

He texted us a weather report for the week – party sunny and 70s all week out there. Which is great since the band is on the Left Coast touring. They started out in LA at the Echo Tuesday night and a little birdie told me it was “…packed to the back.” Guess you can’t say, “…standing room only,” since everybody stands and rocks out all night. To check out their tour dates, and download “Cry Wolf” just skip ahead to their website: http://www.parlormob.com

“It’s the first thing we’ve produced ourselves with no outside involvement from anyone else for about 10 years, since we made our first record,” said guitarist Dave Rosen. “We didn’t really have any concern for anything else other than exactly what we wanted to do. So, we went a little crazy, basically.”

Imagine that, artists writing, recording, producing their own music. Bob was asking me if I ever heard of the Brill Building, sometimes called the Glass Building, and I said, “Nope.” So naturally I got a little history of music lesson. It’s located at 1619 Broadway and 49th Street in Manhattan, at the heart of the Theatre District. While we all know about the Motown sound coming out of the Hitsville Studio in Detroit, and Country coming from the Ryman, New York was doing music this way in the 50s and 60s.

“After its completion in 1931, the owners were forced by a deepening Depression to rent space to music publishers, since there were few other takers. The first three, Southern Music, Mills Music and Famous-Music were soon joined by others. By 1962 the Brill Building contained 165 music businesses.”

In essence this was called vertical integration. If a songwriter was looking for an artist and a publisher for their song, this was the place to be. In fact, “There you could write a song or make the rounds of publishers until someone bought it. Then you could go to another floor and get a quick arrangement, lead sheet for $10, get some copies made at the duplication office; book an hour at a demo studio; hire some of the musicians and singers that hung around; and finally cut a demo of the song. Then you could take it around the building to the record companies, publishers, artist’s managers or even the artists themselves. If you made a deal there were radio promoters available to sell the record.” http://www.history-of-rock.com/brill_building.htm

So before the internet, artist/songwriters needed all these middlemen, to get their music off a napkin and out to the public. Carole King had a cubby in the Brill Building, so did Neil Diamond, Paul Simon and Burt Bacharach. The power was in the hands of the publishers, not the artists. Today we have Pharrell Williams, the perfect example of a singer/songwriter/band/member who now runs his own multimedia company, hat and all. I mean I’d be happy too, wouldn’t you?

Happy touring boys, wish I could be at the Vegas show!

at the Echo

at the Echo

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Must Love Dogs

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on January 27, 2015| 3 Comments »

jack-russell
Well we didn’t have a three dog night. In fact, NY and NJ are feeling somewhat slighted by the blizzard, while the Blue Ridge simply got a dusting. Ms Bean was snuggled tight in her little cave; her bed is under a credenza next to my side of the bed. Her snoring is my night music. I’m still waiting to rescue a Corgi so we can be a two dog family once again. But before I tell you about my matchmaking skills with a male Jack Russell dog named Mona, let’s go over why owning and loving a dog is good for our health.

The American Heart Association actually issued a statement saying that pet ownership, particularly dogs, is associated with a lowered risk of cardiovascular disease, and it can also increase your chance for survival after having a heart attack! http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/GettingHealthy/Owning-a-Pet-May-Protect-You-from-Heart-Disease_UCM_453586_Article.jsp

…there are a variety of reasons that may be at work that influence this relationship. It may be that healthier people are more likely to be pet owners or that people with dogs tend to exercise more. Pets also play a role in providing social support to their owners, which is an important factor in helping you stick with a new habit or adopting a new healthy behavior.

I used to walk my first Corgi Tootsie Roll two miles every day, until one day we were approaching Rumson Road and she wanted to turn around. Every day she was cutting our walk in half! I told the vet she must be getting Alzheimer’s, but he said she was smart. She was getting older and I would have to accommodate. So I just walked the same mile twice; once with Toots and her son Blaze, and twice with Blaze. I called this my “meditative walk,” and it helped me think and prepare my mind for writing.

Little did I know it was also helping my heart. But who would have thought that rescuing a dog could open your heart to love? And I don’t just mean the furry kind.

While our family was vacationing in FL last week we got together with Meredith, an old Med School friend of the Bride and Groom. It just so happens she is a practicing Ob-Gyn in Tampa. The Love Bug played with her sweet son in the pool for hours, while Meredith did her best to sell the doctor couple on the pleasures of practicing medicine in the Sunshine State. And then I just had to ask, “How’s Mona?”

You see I feel personally responsible for Meredith’s marriage! One day long ago BC (before children) in med school, Meredith told me she wanted a dog. I accompanied her to the Charlottesville Albemarle SPCA and we found a little male Jack Russell, who was full of energy and a kissing machine. It was love at first lick! I would grand dog sit him when she had to do an away rotation and he got on splendidly with my crew. Little did I know that within a few months Meredith met her future husband at a dog park with his Jack Russell, and the rest is herstory!

Dogs are not only good for your heart, they are great for your love life! And Mona is still alive and kicking.

the Maid of Honor, the Bride, the MOB, and Merdith

the Maid of Honor, the Bride, the MOB, and Merdith

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Cheatin the Hustle

Posted in books, Country, Journaling, wedding, tagged , , , , , , , on November 16, 2014| 2 Comments »

Months ago I heard about a nifty new strategy for robbers and thieves. They would roll up next to your car at the gas station, and while you’re busy filling up your tank with gas (just ignore this my NJ peeps, everyone else in the states has to pump their own gas) the bad guys will drive up next to the passenger side of your car, and in one swift move jump out, open up your door and boom, snatch your purse right off the seat! Seems like easy pickins, right? So I’ve been locking my car doors while gassing up ever since, just in case.

But one time in Nashville I didn’t see this hustle coming. The Bride was outside her car filling up the tank, while I stayed inside in front talking to the Love Bug in the back seat. All of a sudden there was a young girl at my open window telling me a sob story about how she had to get somewhere and just needed a few bucks for gas. Naturally I gave her a five dollar bill for gas, and later the Bride told me I’d been had. In retrospect, she did look like a meth addict, but hey.

But I was not surprised this past week. In the middle of my zombie/like/9hour/driving/trance on my way back from Nashville at a Sheetz, I was struggling with the monitor on a gas pump. It took my credit card info and I was about to enter my zip code when it asked me if I wanted a car wash??? Normally I’d press the “No” button – only there was NO “NO” button! So I’m trying to figure out how to get back to the initial screen, when all of a sudden a man who I can only describe as a lunatic is staring me right in the face.

With my car locked and only a gas hose between us, he starts telling me how he needs some money to get back to West VA!This guy, who looks like the psycho who abducted Elizabeth Smart, hauls a big red gas can up for me to see and what? fill it up for him? I can’t even get my own gas, which is what I start yelling at him – “I can’t get this damn thing to work, so NO…” and he gets out of my face in a hurry. Probably the first crazy Yankee nana he’s ever encountered! As I drive out of the Sheetz, I notice a beat-up van with a woman who looks like the wife of the psycho who abducted Elizabeth Smart sitting in its open door. She’s holding one of those cardboard signs with a message I didn’t read.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice? In retrospect, maybe I should have called the police. But I’d already called them on my drive to Nashville about an aggressive driver who almost ran a car off the road right in front of me. I didn’t need to become known as the interstate watchdog/vigilante/nana, so I found a Starbucks, which is like finding an oasis in the desert on that trip, and refueled my engine. One non-fat, Chai tea latte later, and I was home free.

"Yeah so then what happened?"

“Yeah so then what happened?”

They are searching in Orange County today for Alexis Murphy and another missing girl. The last place Alexis was seen was at a gas station. Maybe NJ has the right idea after all?

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Fair Weather Flyer (or)

Posted in an expository essay, tagged , , , , , on October 26, 2014| 2 Comments »

How to Evade Ebola by Flying Yourself!

A man for all seasons, Bob is also a private pilot. I haven’t flown with him in awhile, for many reasons. But mostly it’s because the weather has to be perfect, and I have to have a destination in mind. Like the Love Bug. You won’t find me flying over to Newport News for lunch. And also there’s this, I just don’t like flying! But yesterday, I squeezed myself into the plane.

Pre-flight Check

Pre-flight Check

Me:  The interior looks great! Ouch, oh yeah I forgot I’ve got to take my earrings off before I put the headset on. Thinking to myself – Let’s see where can I stow them? Can’t reach my bag in the back… wait, I’ll just clip them onto my necklace.

Bob:  What? Here you’ve got to have the mic right up to your mouth, like this, like you’re kissing it

Me:  OK, are we clear? What about those clouds?

Bob:  We’re clear to 9,000 ft. Those clouds are around 5

Me:  Good, so it’s smooth sailing?

And it was pretty smooth, the clouds underneath us looked like marshmallow fluff, until I noticed a little red button light up and Bob started fooling around, quickly, and he’s never quick in the cockpit, with the throttle and the landing gear

Me:  What’s up? (said meekly and like I didn’t know something was wrong). Thinking to myself – we are 9,000 ft in the air and the landing gear isn’t supposed to come down until we descend in another 200 miles or so

Bob:  We’re just going to slow down a little  

Me:  Straining to read the red button on Bob’s panel – WARNING GEAR UNSAFE!   

Warning Light

Warning Light

Bob:  The door’s probably not fully closing (the Piper Arrow has retractable wheels, and the doors to said wheels were just replaced in its annual)

Me:  Thinking to myself – So this is it, we’ll have to fly around the airport to burn off all the fuel and then land on foam, if Charlottesville even has foam to put down on the runway, and we’ll make the local news, there will be fire trucks…

Bob:  We’ve got three green (which means all three wheels have come down) so it’s not a problem.

For an emergency physician/pilot, nothing is a problem. These people are the epitome of cool under pressure. Remember the voice recording of Sully landing in the Hudson? That’s Bob, telling me there’s nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t like flying around the Jersey Shore this time of year, with its kaleidoscope of pink and red cranberry bogs. But it was autumn in the Shenandoah Valley and beautiful just the same. It is also Homecoming weekend for UVA, so yesterday we landed amid the Big Jets with all their private pilots in uniform hanging around talking about who was getting enough sleep.

There wasn’t another plane in the sky all the way from Nashville, but three hours later and finally on the ground – all three green down – our little four-seater Piper was the poor relative to the top 1% of the 1% of alums flying in to see the Hoos play the Heels.

Me:  Perfect landing. Thanks honey, that beats 9 hours in the car!

Bob:  Smiling, thinking to himself – I’m gonna call that mechanic first thing Monday morning.  IMG_1478

 

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Sandy Sheets

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on July 26, 2014| 2 Comments »

They say you can’t go home again, not once you’ve left and established a separate life, an adult life. But today I tasted a real poppyseed strudel at the City Market, the kind my Slovac foster mother Nell used to make, and it brought me right back there, to Victory Gardens.

I tried making it once. I had to buy a new peppermill to grind the teeny poppy seeds, since there was nothing else I could think of in the 70s to do the trick. My attempt failed miserably and I just assumed you’d have to go to Czechoslovakia to find a poppyseed grinder. Julia Child lived around the corner in Cambridge, MA and I almost stopped her in the street to ask her how I might duplicate this luscious European pastry, but I guess I didn’t have the nerve. If only we had Twitter!

This week has brought back many memories. The Bride was just two years old when we started bringing her out to Martha’s Vineyard. We’d pack up the car and caravan with the dogs and our BFFs Lee and Al to a little, old, grey clapboard house at the wild end of the island, Gay Head. We’d dig for clams and bake bread. We’d ride our beach bikes past the dunes and watch fishermen docking with the day’s catch. We’d shower outside after an afternoon at Menemsha Pond, and pick ticks off the dogs in the evening. In short, it was always a delightful Spring.

Being with the Love Bug now reminds me of that toddler sense of wonder, the kind I experienced on the Vineyard with her mama. She looks for our neighbors’ horses, she sings to herself in the car, she bravely goes down a water slide twice! We run in the backyard to pick blackberries. When she takes a bite of a ripe peach, I see that same joy. Like a picture I have of the bride sitting at our Gay Head table with lobster, clams and butter all over her face and hair.

Sandy sheets and ballon animals from the City Market dance on my laundry line of time.

The Bride waiting for the ferry

The Bride waiting for the ferry

And sometimes I feel like I have gone home again.

The Bug with a blackberry stained mouth

The Bug with a blackberry stained mouth

 

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The Optics of Opinion

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , on July 10, 2014| 3 Comments »

It’s not everyday that my whole family gets to walk around NYC, on a holiday weekend, when anyone with a car has long since left this piece of the Apple. The Bride thought the city looked beautiful in its abandoned state: an older woman was slowly pushing her small dog in a fancy pram; decorated, horse-drawn carriages were lined up in front of the Plaza waiting for tourists who never came; and out on Sue’s upper-East side terrace, where she had planted 35 tomatoes in painters’ tubs, a nest of baby birds was singing to us. It’s one of those strange, paradoxical moments in time. In the midst of grief, sitting shiva in the middle of this concrete canyon, we realize there is still beauty.

And that’s probably what we are meant to do, reflect on my cousin’s life through our own lens. Someone said she wasn’t a political person, but I knew better. Because around Ada’s kitchen table we let our political hair down, and Sue was always in the middle of the fray, leading the conversation. Maybe with her NYC realtor/colleagues she didn’t voice her opinions, but her family and close friends knew she had the heart of a liberal. Which is why my conversation with the cabby of my taxi on the way to Penn Station was apropos.

He was from Africa. He spoke French “officially.” He got his BA from Baruch College in the Flatiron District and was going to get his masters soon. Just as soon as he gets his green card…

And to wake up at home this morning and hear all about President Obama’s meeting with Gov Perry in TX and speculation about Obama’s decision not to have a “photo-op” holding refugee children at the border yesterday made me feel sick. Particularly when I saw Perry quickly swivel his chair out of sight as the CNN camera started rolling at that meeting with the POTUS. God forbid he should be seen like Gov Chris Christie – embracing our President. Of course Perry would like a picture of Obama holding children he is “…about to deport” as one commentator said.

Because to a politician, it’s appearances that count. And the optics of immigration isn’t very pretty.

My cabby told me there is a French saying about things you may want in life. Bit by bit, the bird builds her nest.

Father and Daughter in NYC

Father and Daughter in NYC

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Feeling the Fourth

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 5, 2014| 2 Comments »

IMG_0787Yesterday we got up early to wish our country a happy birthday. Like we’ve done so many times before, we headed up the mountain to Mr Jefferson’s home for the 52nd Naturalization Ceremony at Monticello. http://www.timesdispatch.com/news/state-regional/nearly-citizens-naturalized-at-monticello/article_33d59e48-03f4-11e4-af9a-0017a43b2370.html

Thousands always gather to watch our newest citizens swear an oath of allegiance to these United States; red and blue, right and left unite in our collective pride for once. And as Iraq was dissolving into tribal warfare, trying desperately to sustain its very early gestational stage of freedom, I thought about the bigger picture. How we didn’t achieve true independence in 1776, well not ALL of us did, IMG_0792

We had to fight our own bloody Civil War and then survive the tumultuous 60s, and we are still voting one state at a time for marriage equality in 2014.

And while the keynote speaker, David Rubenstein, co-founder and CEO of the Carlyle Group, read an amusing email he received from TJ himself, it was his list of famous immigrants that caught my attention; Albert Einstein, YoYoMa, Kissinger, Madeline Albright, etc and I couldn’t help but think about the buses of women and children that have faced angry mobs in California, and the refugee camps we’ve set up along border states.    IMG_0797

Still, what other country our size manages to allow and contain so much dissent, along with a free press? How will history tell this American immigration story? It turns out Mr Rubenstein graduated the same year as Bob from Duke University. I asked Bob if he thought he’d been a frat boy in 1970. The Yearbook that year was divided in two, one for the Greeks and one for the Geeks (Hippies).

And as I stood there with my little flag and my hand in its splint, I thought about the Supreme’s latest Hobby Lobby ruling. In 1967 when I was in college, doctors were not allowed to write prescriptions for that newfangled birth control pill if you were unmarried. And today, your boss can determine your reproductive destiny because SCOTUS has ruled in favor of corporations over women. And it has once again softened the line between church and state, and we know what Mr Jefferson would say about that! IMG_0783

http://classroom.monticello.org/teachers/resources/profile/6/Jefferson-and-the-Declaration-of-Independence/   ps why do I always look like some botched plastic surgery victim?

 

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Walter Place

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on July 3, 2014| 1 Comment »

This morning Ms Bean started barking her crazy bark at the kitchen door. I looked and not seeing any deer, which usually has her starting off with a low rumble before she hits the crazy bark mode, I opened the door. She jumped, pranced out onto the deck craning her head up, and I looked up to see a Great Blue Heron swing down and away from the roof into the valley. Oh Bean, let’s not go chasing herons. Hawks are OK since they might decide to pick you up for a snack, but herons mean you no harm.

Afterwards, I recalled a snippet of last night’s dream. I dreamed about Buddha, and the Flapper. We were in a big, old antebellum house and Buddha didn’t want to go out the door. It was a special door on the side with muddy bootprints. My beautiful, white Samoyed-mix wasn’t comfortable walking on the wood floors towards the end. The Flapper was watching from the grand circular staircase. Maybe I remembered the dream because my children’s story has Buddha talking to a Great Blue Heron in a tree.

But the majestic, historic house I know well, it was Walter Place in Holly Springs, MS. My late brother Michael bought this house for his beautiful bride Jorja after they left the frozen tundra of Minnesota. She was raised here and her large family still lived among the hanging, humid wisteria vines in this delta dreamworld. I’ve been dressed in a hoop skirt to man the upstairs battle stations during their annual Pilgrimage. Walter Place is the jewel in the crown of this historic house tour. http://misspreservation.com/2012/06/19/101-places-walter-place-in-holly-springs/

In 1859…”Harvey Washington Walter “challenged [architect Spires Boling] to create something grander than the classic Greek Revival house with tall white columns” Boling’s response was the Gothic towers “topped with castellated battlements.”

gates

Walter Place is about to go up for auction, which is most likely why I’m dreaming about it. All the gorgeous antiques that Jorja assembled over the years to make her home a period masterpiece are now in the hands of Stevens Auctions for probably one of the biggest and best American antiquities sales in a very long time.

I remember looking out over the lawn to see tents sprawling as far as the eye can see of Civil War re-enactors, like Mrs Grant saw in real time. I remember the desk that the railroad tycoon Walter’s daughter used sitting under the staircase. She had to practice medicine in China since no one would accept a woman doctor. I remember my niece Lucia’s glorious wedding in the lush garden, with magnolia flowers from the estate on every table. I remember the peacock I gave my brother for his birthday flying free up into a tree when the groundsman tried to capture him. Like the heron did this morning.

I know you can watch the auction online July 11 and 12, but I don’t know if they will be accepting phone bids. You could probably call if you are interested, this is a business that must have a person on the other end of the line don’t you think? http://www.stevensauction.com/Calender.html And Jorja, I wish you love and light in this next chapter of your life.

Three Generations of Delta Beauty

Three Generations of Delta Beauty

 

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