Whatever Makes You Feel Like a Rockstar...

Our much anticipated St. Paddy party started early.  Bloody Mary's and grouper reuben's are our Keys tradition and provide a good base for later reveling.  As a surprise to the party, Randy and I arranged a private plane to drop us in Key West for the night.  Somehow, we managed to get our little leprechaun's fed and in their finery and out the door by 9:30 ayem.  Much like herding cats, it almost took an act of congress to accomplish this AND keep the secret.

Arriving at Marathon airport, The Aviation North plane and pilot Dale (nice name!) was at the ready to escort us across the tarmac and load us up.  As we soared above the Keys, for the short flight west, we were treated to a view that was incomparable.  Crystal clear waters of aqua, turquoise, emerald and teal colors left us all a little slack jawed with the natural beauty.  The sun cast a mesmerizing silver sparkle over white masted sailboats and islands.  All too soon, we landed at the Key West Airport.  Upon arrival, Niece Nicole remarked that people were wondering what kind of 'shit show' was trotting across the tarmac. Rock Star status-firmly in place. Shamrocks and kilts secured, we were ready to rock.

After settling into our rental house, the day went off with all the usual shenanigans.  We laughed, ate, drank and observed.  Some of us may have done a jig....And Dale was there to pilot us back home the next morning.

Thanks go out to my brother-in-law and sister (the true Rockstar's)  for providing the air transport that made for this amazing day.  I can fully recommend them, and Dale for all your private plane needs.

Happy St. Paddy's Day!  XO

Make Way...

Well, it's official.  My brother is here along with 3 other revelers due to arrive tomorrow to kick off our 17th. annual Sloth, Debauchery and Indulgence Tour!  Don and Shannon and niece Nicole arrive to join the party and celebrate St. Paddy's Day.  Erin Go Bragh!  Brace yourself for pics next week!

Also, I would like to extend a warm welcome to 'Ernest Hemingway' the puppy our friend Tony has adopted.  Ernie is an adorable, cuddly mushball with tons of extra skin to grow into.  And he is  sporting the perfect puppy breath!  I am so happy for Tony and his little buddy.  Tony and I both have a soft spot for all things 'Ernest' and I had to feature him as I hang out in the land of Ernest Hemingway!

The past two days, I have been struggling with flu-like symptoms (hence the late blog!) and that's just all wrong!  After escaping Michigan without so much as a sniffle, I am laying low and trying to get well before the mayhem here ensues.  Wish me well and please send me some white, healing light.

See you all next week!  xo

It Runs Through Me...

Greetings from the sunny Keys where I am definitely NOT frozen stiff!  After our usual journey I am now on Keys time where everything moves soooo much  slower-even me-hence a later than usual blog post! 
Driving down, I was amazed to see the re-opening of various restaurants and resorts that have gotten back on their feet since hurricane Irma.  I mourn the 'death' of some of our favorite places that are just holes in the landscape.  Detritus and such that were in giant roadside piles on our last visit have been (mostly) cleaned up and hauled off.  Foliage shows new green (mostly!) and is starting to fill back in, but I miss the colorful Bougainvillea that used to add such brilliant color.  As I went for a morning walk, I noticed that you could scavenge just about anything if you wanted to pick through the mangroves.  I noticed a tee shirt hanging in a branch and someone's beat up jeans.  I appears some poor soul actually gave true meaning to the unfortunate 'blew out a flip flop' as I saw a random one. Dog dishes, lawn chairs, coolers, etc. were all visible as that stretch had not yet been handled by the vigilant, but overworked road crews. 
And my heart goes out to dear friend Rose, who just recently lost her nephew a boy who's life ended tragically and premature.  His family is heartbroken-a pain I understand.  But as I see the Keys gradually coming back to life, I realize that nature perseveres and survives the unthinkable, somehow.
Time will never truly heal and nothing will ever be exactly the same but we must live and trust that the sun will come out and our souls will rebuild-slowly but surely.  Peace to that family who will live in their own hell for some time. 
Have a wonderful week, stay warm, and count your blessings.  xo

Oh, Mickey...

Oh Mickey you're so fine....

MICNICHOLS F. CONANT

 02-14-2004 TO 02-27-2018

REST IN PEACE LITTLE BUDDY.

Approximately 4 years ago my son called me with the exciting news that He got a puppy! Dog lover in me got squelched while Mom in me said, "What? Your apartment does not take pets!" Minor detail. He went on to say that he had "rescued"--read stolen-this puppy from a short life of abuse and neglect from Detroit's inner city. Seems that the said pup had been spotted at a local party store feasting on pizza crusts and chicken bones, hardly the approved diet by Purina and others! There was also an occasion where it was witnessed that an accident was almost caused by said pup happily and cluelessly wandering down the middle of Conant. Upon his "rescue" he was appropriated with the rather royal moniker of McNicols F. Conant, honoring the area of his birth. We'll call him Mickey. The F. can be left up to your imagination. Freebird, on good days. Now if the stats can be believed, there are 1 pit bull dog to every 2 residents in the city of Detroit. That seems crazy but even if the number was 1 to 5, it would still seem like an unbelievable ratio. Pit bull and their mixes have been a big problem, and can be seen roaming in packs in areas of the city. Most are bred for fighting and for use as guard dogs, others just abandoned. So back to Mickey. He is a smallish brown pit bull mix with sweet brown eyes and a 1 ear up and 1 ear down thing going. Probably hit in the ear at some time, but He seems to hear just fine. Especially when the refrigerator door is opened, or the treat box is shook. It gives him a perpetually quizzical look that is totally endearing. Coupled with his five o clock shadow, Mickey is the epitome of Ghetto Terrier, which we lovingly have coined his "breed". The apartment manager was a softy and generously bent the rules for his newest little inhabitant. Who could resist such a tale of woe? Three years later The Mickster is TEMPORARILY residing with me in the big house and taking his strolls down the Metro walking trail. A real George Jefferson is he. And I couldn't love it more. Mickey guards me like a hawk, but would only lick to death any real danger. The bond with Black Betty was immediate and He loves riding with the wind in his fur. Mickey has proved himself very tolerant of children and other animals. Since Lola kitty is the queen (no offense Aretha) around here, it was imperative that He learn his place. That place being curled up with her in front of the fireplace or any sunny spot on the carpet!! Bliss to be sure. Everything that I have ever heard about mutts (ouch!) temperament, loyalty and such have been proved over and over with our Mickey. Guess all I can say is please don't hesitate to adopt a pet from Humane Society or where ever. You won't regret having such a loyal and loving pet. P.S. Prescription strength Singular alleviates those pesky allergy symptoms!!! xoxox

Dedication...

This gray and rainy evening suits my mood tonight.  As I try to make sense of life and mourn the senseless  killing of 17 students and faculty brought down by a fellow student that was undoubtedly mentally ill.  Tragic, incomprehensible and heartbreaking.  Innocent lives forever altered.  From the very air that they now breathe, to the colors they now see-life will never be the same. 

To the families that now must try to go on through an ache that will never go away, I share your pain.  To the parents that have lost a piece of themselves, I pray for the day the sun shines on your soul once again.  XO 

My Obsession...

Just a little Monday 'Moanin' for y'all this week.  Forgive me, I am sun deprived and have cabin fever.

Did you hear that McDonald's is trying out table service?  Yes, while eating the least nutritional food known to man, you can now have it delivered to your table.  It seems that shuffling up to the front of the line, getting your tray and gathering your own straws and napkins have just become too much.  At the risk of burning a calorie, you can now have your '$1.00  heart attack in a bag' delivered to your booth, making the event even more convenient, with less of a strain.  In my humble opinion, you should have to at least walk laps around the golden arches and maybe pop off a few jumping jacks in an attempt to counteract the sodium and fat.  What's next-a quick angioplasty at the door and you are good to go. Thanks McDonald for looking out for us all.

And did you see that too much video gaming has now officially become an addiction?  Yep, Gaming Disorder is the official name of this disease.  Who didn't see that coming?  No other amusement can come close to the stimulation provided by these high tech games with their graphics and sound.  Can you imagine how horribly boring it would be to say, read a book, draw something or actually engage in conversation?  Way lame.  But an actual disorder?  Put the control down and get some fresh air already.  Maybe walk to the mailbox or look at the newspaper.  As a person who has studied addiction, I can't wait to see the way the brain now has to be retrained.  Do you gradually cut back on your gaming time or go cold turkey and just PUT DOWN THE CONTROL!  Do you get a sponsor and attend meetings?  Is the traditional 12 step the favored method to get you back into a society that doesn't involve staring at a screen? 

AND I nearly forgot the Tide Pod Debacle.  Please.  The pods are for laundry.  How about a dare I recently read about-throw it the washer and do your damn laundry!  Sheesh...

Good gravy, we just keep digressing.  Are we all destined to have a small head and a big body?  Just say 'NO' and be done with it.  One day at a time.  Next thing you know, McDonald's will probably offer 'sofa service' to the gamers and the circle will be complete.

Now that I sound like a crabby old lady, I wish to say Happy 21st. Birthday to my nephew Steven Race.  Auntie loves you very much.  And a quick get well Mom, who has been struggling with some kind of Hoogala Schmoogala that has her down-flu shot be damned.  The rest of you darlings have a great week.   XO

What's Going On?

So on Sunday four 'total blondes' braved the snowy weather to get together for Super Bowl  silliness.  Happy to see each for any occasion-we caught up on each others lives.  We ate, we drank, and we got down with Justin Timberlake.  We paid little attention to the game and a little more attention to our betting squares.  I won 80 bucks!  (But had to be notified of my windfall while chatting it up with the chickies!)

On cold medicine, I tapped out and called it an early night.  With a foggy head and a full tummy, I snuggled in.  I smiled as I thought about our get together and with a contented sigh, crashed out to sleep.  I just love Super Bowl Sunday!

Upon waking up this ayem, I turned on the news and went out to get the paper-had to see who won the game.  Oh wait... I won the game.  A good time with friends is always a win.

Even if you don't collect 80 bucks!

Thanks to Kristin and Bob for again hosting the annual party.  It was a blast! xoxo