How would you like to find one of these in your bathroom?

My last few posts have been introspective and heavy….so I thought I’d entertain you this week with a story that will make you happy you don’t live in Tropica.

You all know about my love/hate relationship to Tropica.  I’ve written several posts on it…and that my idea of hell is having a toloc in the house, which happens several times a year.

So, imagine my surprise dismay shock! disgust! when I walked into my bathroom, which is the furthest room away from the walled-in garden of my house it could possibly be, to find a f***ing toloc hanging out behind the toilet. [Read more…]

The bronze Spirit Warrior Sculpture by Ogala artist Colleen Cutschall at the Indian Memorial. Little Bighorn National Monument, Montana.

 

I can hear the followers of Camp Liza canceling their subscriptions as I write.  Because who wants to read about death?  The fact is, if you think about death, like the Buddhists do, you will live ever so much a more beautiful, rich life. And we all want that.

So today, let’s think about death.

This post is inspired by the accidental death of a friend last week. It was a day like any other. An artist, he went to work. A big machine fell on him. Yup.

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What’s missing from this idyllic picture of the Ile St. Louis? Me, walking it! Soon!

 

On Tuesday it will be three weeks since I had my hip replacement surgery. How to give you an update without sounding all boring about medical blah blah, when there is so much more in life to think about.

And that’s the point. Get on with the health and recovery but put your attention on the delicious stuff of life that awaits.

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Why do we love hospital shows so much when the reality is so not nice? That’s putting it mildly! For as long as I can remember there’s always been a medical show on the air — because doctors and hospitals bring on the drama. Unwanted drama.

I won’t dwell on boring medical blah blah, but here’s what’s happening. After five years of pain that I ignored because, who wants to pay attention to pain…I’ll be having a hip replacement this week. Not how I planned to spend the Easter hols.

[Read more…]

 

You all know that I love to cook and bake.  I read food blogs and websites.  Cookbooks as bedside reading are a given.  Cooking is not only how I nurture and delight my family and friends, it’s how I explore, travel and taste the world right in my own home.

Lately, people have been after me to compile a book of the recipes I’ve cooked over the years that have become family favorites.  Now I’m not a recipe writer.  Whilst some of my recipes have come from my mother and grandmother…other family favorites have come from famous chefs, cookbooks and websites.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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