Follow my blog with Bloglovin

 

I am not living the life I imagined. I think a lot of people can say that.  For some, that’s a good thing. Or, it can be not so good.

Specifically, I’m contemplating the price of “paradise”…and if I want to pay it.

Tropica is in the news as the perfect place to live, work and retire. Real estate porn – colonial houses, pools, hammocks, low cost of living are why baby boomers are pouring into town. While the press extolls the beauty and virtues Tropica I’m thinking of going in the other direction.

[Read more…]

 

Eating out of a bowl is nothing new.  Asian cuisine and many others, have been served out of bowls for centuries. In 2017, bowls have become a cultural and gastronomic moment. If you’ve ever eaten a bowl of ramen, or a burrito bowl at Chipotle, you’ve had a bowl.

The millennials appropriated bowls into a lifestyle. It turns out millennials don’t want to sit at a table and use a knife and fork. They want easy, attractive, fork food that you can pick up and carry to the couch and watch Netflix, or to the computer and keep working or Skyping.

[Read more…]

 

In keeping with my 2017 theme, The Year of Living Passionately I’m adding another goal, years in the simmering.

This is going to be the year that I find my dream jeans. The year of my perfect fabulous jeans. I’ve had it with skinny jeans, jeggings, bootcut, high rise, low rise, mom jeans, bell bottoms, stretch jeans, cropped jeans, et al.

[Read more…]

 

In Tropica it’s always guest season. Living in a vacation destination means a lot of houseguests. I enjoy picking people up at the airport and having the stimulation and fun of visitors.

Being a good houseguest is an art, but it can also be a learned skill. If you have friends living in interesting places, and you are lucky enough to be invited to stay, it means you can travel all the more. So it behooves you to treat your hostess like the treasure she is.

[Read more…]

Jealousy sounds so much nicer in French, doesn’t it?  Romantic. Poetic.

In another twist, jalousie in English refers to a “blind or shutter made of angled slats.”  Go figure.

As a femme d’un certain age, I’m mortified to admit that I’m prone to occasional whiffs of jealousy envy. How embarrassing is that? It’s true that life is always like high school over and over again — same cliques, same emotions.

[Read more…]

 

I’m adding three new things to my life this year, to explore and develop, and if things go well, adopt as official passions.  I made this decision because I find being a beginner so invigorating! Since no bridge player will teach me bridge (Don’t get me started. Bridge players hate to teach beginners and don’t want to play with them.) and golf will never be a thing for me, I landed on my new learning challenges quite naturally.

[Read more…]

Photo c Elisabeth Carol

 

Uh oh.  The stores are filling up with red stuff.  If it’s one thing I don’t like its red roses.  That means my “favorite” day of the year is approaching. Grrr. Don’t need to repeat it, so you can read all about it in the link.

Then my uber cool millennial daughter told me about Amy Poehler’s Galantine’s Day.  Now I’m inspired to celebrate!

[Read more…]

toast

 

First of all…I’m back.  I was in Chicago taking care of a toddler whilst her mother (my cousin) was on a business trip.

Well. That. Was. Exhausting.

My friends warned me, but I thought, oh I can do this, I raised my own children didn’t I? Ahem. Within minutes of my cousin’s departure I was drawn back to the days of not being able to think a complete thought, to finish a cup of tea or read the newspaper. And: Not just a toddler, but a “missing her mother toddler.” Use your imagination.

[Read more…]

Mine does.

I recall my father saying to me when he was in his 70’s and 80’s: “My skeleton hurts.” I let it slide by, not understanding, not caring to understand.  That’s the arrogance and breeziness of youth.

Now I understand.  My skeleton hurts.  I guess I inherited it from him.

So, in addition to this being the year of living passionately, this is also the year of the bod.  My bod.

[Read more…]