Category Archives: Moving In together

Want to really test a relationship? Move in together

First: Have a Garage Sale!

Possibly the Most stressful, exhausting, taxing, demanding, unfulfilling event in a lifetime….

Organizing, planning, purging, pricing, promoting, staging, signage, paperwork, selling, smiling, haggling…for hours and hours.

 

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…One man’s treasure is another man’s Junk…Dopey, really?

If you can ‘get along’ and work together for the common good and still speak to one another after eight hours of looky-loo’s, weirdos, and harassing hagglers….

And, if you can sell a ton of duplicates (you have two blenders, two irons, ice buckets, dozens of wine glasses, bowls, plates, baseball hats…)           and the myriad “Won’t Need Its ” for the new house’ items – Bravo!

More power to you…crack open a bottle of really good wine – you deserve it…Have pizza – really good pizza – delivered.

Put your feet up. You Survived.

Put Dopey near the recycling bin…

 

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A Night Owl and a Mourning Person- Merry X-mas?

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Good Bye, California and Cashmere!

And turtle-necks, leather boots, scarves, and gloves, berets, blazers, and wool coats…

Hello Flip flops, sandals, T-shrts, sundresses, capris

and suncreen in December

(and January, February, March…)

To the land of No reindeer – lots of Pink Flamingos –

No Snow-flakes – Lots of Snow-cones…and Snow birds.

She was a night owl… he was a ‘mourning’ person.

They were polar opposites and very attracted.

She was peppy and perky and reveled in all the trappings of Christmas – from candy canes and wreaths, Christmas carols on the radio 10 hours a day, to red and white sweaters, socks and  warm hats, and mittens and mistletoe.

He was a Hanukah kind of guy. Not that merry – not that happy.

The six month sabbatical in South Florida was a meant be a lark – it turned out to be more of albatross.

She slept in – he was up very early, ran three miles and wrote the book, did research and taught the class. Went to dinner with clients. 

She wanted to explore, have adventures, hit the clubs, eat Cuban food and party. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. She found a passel of people who were fun, single and adventuresome. Bliss! Solo bliss…however, she was ‘sought after’ by kindred souls.

 

Bam! One day – December 25th – he was working – she met a soul mate. A 100% perfect match who was being transferred to The Bay Area.

She hitched her heart on that star and they have been happily ever after.

Christmas Miracle

 

Florida- where Palm Reading takes on a whole new meaning.

 

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/because-the-night/”>Because the Night</a>

Breaking News: Floods of “Liberals” slip into Canada

The following News Story was updated and improved.

No plagiarism involved. Well, maybe a bit, eh? 

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Breaking News: Hordes of “US Liberals” slipping into Canada!

News Update from Canada, eh?

 Floods of Trump-fearing/GOP TAX Bill loathing  American Liberals are disgusted  with recent events. Their rage is prompting an exodus of Americans who fear they’ll soon be penniless, be required to buy a gun, build a fence, read the president-elect books, and live according to the “new” updated My Way or the Highway Constitution.

Canadian Border residents say it’s not uncommon to see dozens of Singles, Families, Sociology professors, Medicare loving/Social Security fans and Global-Warming Believers, and “Green” energy proponents crossing their fields at night.

“I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer and his entire family huddled in the barn,” said Quebec farmer, Rouge Greenfield. “They were cold, exhausted and hungry, and begged me for a croissant and some French Fries. When I said I didn’t have any, they left before I even got a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?”

Something fishy? In an effort to stop the so-called illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the limber Democratic Liberals nibly scaled them. He then installed loudspeakers that blared Sara Palin and Kevin Bannon across the fields, but they just sang, “If I had a Hammer” and kept coming.

Officials are particularly concerned about savvy Canadian smugglers who meet The Liberals  just south of the border, pack them into electric cars, and drive them across the border; where the batteries die and they are are ditched and left to fend for themselves, “These people are not prepared for our rugged conditions,” an Alberta border patrolman said.  “I found one bereft carload without a single bottle of Perrier water or quinoa.  All they had was a nice little Napa Valley Pinot and some stale kale chips. When they are caught, they’re sent back across the border, often wailing that they fear taunting and persecution from Terrible Trump Trumpets and Pensive Pence Patrol.

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Whatta Zoo!

Numerous Canadian citizens have complained that these ” Democrats aka illegal immigrants” are creating an epic organic-broccoli shortage, are buying up all the Leonard Cohen CD’s and are overloading the Canadian Internet while downloading yoga and meditation apps to their iPhones. “

Rumors are circulating about plans using the many old, failed, Trump properties as re-education camps where Liberals will be forced to watch “The Apprentice,” buy a gun, patrol the  walls, deal with a flood of ‘bizarro world’ new – laws.

Threats of Hair-comb overs, mandatory orange hair dye jobs and tanning salons mandates are all over Twitter.

However, in recent days, Liberals have turned to ingenious ways of crossing the border. Faux SightseeingBus Tours – seeking new homes with entire households being shipped in weeks to come.

Some clever escapees have been disguised as Senior citizens taking a bus trip to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs. Not a new event. Post the phony Pharma act, scores of Americans seek housing in Canada.

After catching dozens young vegans in blue-hair wig disguises, smart Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed “Senior citizens” about Captain Kangaroo, Perry Mason, Chubby Checker to prove that they were alive in the ’50s. “If they can’t identify the secretary on the Perry Mason Show, we become very suspicious about their age,” an official said.

“Oh! Canada” said, “I really feel sorry for American Liberals who are escaping Trump World , but the Canadian economy just can’t support them.” “After all, how many English majors does one country need?”

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Zoo

He snores – she snores? Aw, come on!


They moved in together – Moon, Spoon, June: pure bliss?

Last May, Carly rolled her eyes and said that living with Don was bliss-perfection-more wonderful than she had imagined. Except for that one flaw. Flaw? Mr. Wonderful? Mr. tall, dark, handsome, highly successful and happy Don?   She whispered, “He snores. A little like a small water buffalo.” How bad was it? Move to another bedroom bad or just earplugs and melatonin bad? She was discreet in all their affairs, and merely waved her hand and tsk-ed, “Oh, not that bad.”

Flash forward to now-and Carly is no longer fluffing this one off.

She has dark circles under her eyes and the Bobbi Brown concealer barely hides them. And she will quietly share she just had the first good night’s sleep in weeks, because Don had gone to a meeting in Toronto.

She reveled in the nocturnal silence. She thought about taping “The Quietude of the Boudoir” as a meditation tape she could play back with her Bose headphones when Don returned.    She dismissed the idea as silly, but the night before he returned-she turned on her tape player to record three hours of white noise and pure silence. The next morning, she tucked it away in the bedside table.

Don’s return was highly anticipated. Carly shopped, prepped, and cooked his favorite meal to eat by candlelight, accompanied by Miles Davis and Keith Jarrett on their cool, old, record player. He was clearly exhausted. He had a three-hour delay in Denver, missed an airline connection and was beat. After dinner, they retired to the bedroom – within minutes he was out and snoring.

For Carly, the week of silence had been purely intoxicating and was now a distant memory as the cacophony of snorts, airbursts and coughs punctuated the night.

The tape!  Proud of her white-noise-invention, she found her Bose headphones and the mini-tape player and placed them on her side of the bed. She cleansed, toned, moisturized, and climbed into bed next to her amore as he belted raucous snores. Blissfully, she listened to her newly created, perfect, white noise tape. She could barely hear the muffled rustling of her satin duvet. As she was relaxing into silence, she heard a strange noise.

Something was wrong with the tape. It must be flawed. She heard a rush of air and a soft wheezing sound. The machine must be broken. Then she heard the pattern again. Louder.  Snoring! Had she taped Don and forgotten?

No, as she listened to the shocking snorting noise, she sadly discovered she, too, snored. Softly – but, she had a small problem. She would erase the tape in the morning and head off to the health food store for Melatonin. And, maybe soothing, sleep inducing  Belleruth Naperstek ‎ tape, earplugs might be good…brandy…her mind was whirling- while the love of her life was sleeping like a baby.

Damn him. Sweet dreams….photo_8735_20081228

What is your panacea? Tell me! myammy101@gmail.com

kiss 

Who Sleeps Where? Are you a Kitten or a Dog…

She just wanted a few diamonds

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Candy was a party girl. She lost interst in school – she got a job as a waitress -then became a cocktail waitress and was having the time of her life. Tips were flowing and there were parties all the time.

She met men ( both single and married) every day of the week and created a network of fellow “Fun Devils.” She claims she was never bored.

And then, the boredom hit the fan. Never in 1 million years did Candy ever think she would be bored with serving drinks and smiles. One of the old guys- a regular- once said if she ever needed a real job to contact him. Bingo.

In one week’s time Candy went from serving drinks- to a receptionist job in small law firm. it took a while to learn the names of the partners, and to become acclimated to the many machines she was using a daily basis.  She rose to the occasion – everyone in the office appreciated her bubbly personality and her diligence.

After several months, she was both liked and respected by everyone. Unbeknownst to the people in the office, she and Bradley J.  were dating very quietly, very surreptitiously. She knew he was “the one.” She also knew that she wasn’t getting any younger and was hankering for a diamond ring on her left hand.  She had dated enough to know Bradley J was a keeper.

And so it began, Candy created a very clever campaign to win the Bradley J. over and get that diamond ring of her dreams. She started with subtle comments about 14 carats.

Soup Kitchen Lines

After two months of no response-Candy decided she had to be more clever.

One day she sent her secret beau text message saying she was Craving 14 carrots.  (Spellcheck wasn’t working.)

That afternoon, Bradley J, put a brown paper bag on her desk. She was thrilled. She open the bag only to find the large, economy-size bag of pre-sliced carrots.

Frustrated-a little angry-she decided the panacea to this dilemma was to be more forthright.  That evening as they were walking towards her apartment, she steered him to the window of the famous jewelry store.

Staring at the tiny galaxy  of shiny diamond rings, she said, “Guess what I want?”

He said, patting the bag,  I know “Minestrone, Chianti and fresh French bread with melted butter. I’ve got it all right here.” 

Bradley J. was super book-smart and very slow when it came to Life 101. It took Candy  another two months to get him up to speed. Voila!

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Panacea

My Life, Time: Look!


My Life and Time…magazines that define us

A creative writing teacher once asked the class to summarize our life-time with magazine names… I grew up in a classic 1950’s small town in northern California. It was very Sunset magazine.

  • The 1960’s were Beach Boys, Beatles, Rolling Stones and it was very Seventeen magazine.

  • The 1970’s meant college in  California, the  Temptations, the  Four Tops, Santa Cruz, Peace marches in Golden Gate Park, living in Mexico; and it was a Time magazine, National Geographic meets Mad magazine with Travel and Leisure, thrown in for color.

  • The 1980’s meant multiple careers and reading material went from Modern BrideWine SpectatorFamily Circle, and Parenting to Juggling 101.

  • The last decade has been that whirlwind of the Sandwich Generation- on wry- caring for aging parents and teens. Coming to many forks in the road and taking them…  Coming through divorce-land with a very bright light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s been a decade of How-to-Books: How to find the perfect assisted living; the perfect high school & colleges, the best family-law attorney and finding new paths to happiness and fulfillment. New Chapters – living and writing a whole new life time.

So far so good!

It’s been very Charles Dickens: best of times worst of times…and

I’m Still Here

Good times and bum times, I’ve seen ’em all And, my dear, I’m still here Flush velvet sometimes Sometimes just pretzels and beer, but I’m here I’ve run the gamut, A to Z Three cheers and dammit, C’est la vie I got through all of last year, and I’m here Lord knows, at least I was there, and I’m here Look who’s here, I’m still here

As performed by Elaine Stritch

 

Living on the Avenue of the Giants

 

 Are we home yet?

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The Stunningly Beautiful Redwoods of Northern California

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Another Type of “Giants” Fan

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Living on The Avenue of the Giants

In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.

John Muir
Finding Your Place