I’m no decorator, I have to admit that right off. But when we bought our lake cottage, I had a clear vision of what I wanted it to be. “Beachy” was the word I kept using to describe the style I was going for. I wanted lake cottage casual, beachy fun, you know…comfortable furniture, laying around looking like it doesn’t care. Gracious friends and family all helped supply us with things for the new place–dishes, pots and pans, canisters, sheets and towels. We were literally starting from ground zero, so we accepted any and all contributions to the cause. We also discovered the Wal-Mart home store. Wow! Husband swears the…

…so posts this week will necessarily be short and sweet. This “sister trip” started out a little rocky with flight delays/cancellations, during which I got booked on completely different flights from PJ and Kate. We ended up in airports about 1,000 miles apart for a few hours, but finally we reconnected and arrived at our destination only twelve hours later than we anticipated. All is well now. Sisters are at the grocery buying all kinds of lovely goodies for our stay, and tomorrow I get to see Son and Daughter-in-Law–YAY! In addition, I’m not working at all on this vacation because well, it’s a vacation. I may write some if…

…and tonight, I’m pretty whiny about it. Generally, I’m fairly mellow about the weather, but we’ve been in the midst of a sticky heat wave for almost two weeks now and I’m ready to be done. It’s sultry here–I’m talking Tennessee Williams sultry. All that’s missing is Blanche DuBois being surprised by the kindness of strangers and Stanley Kowalski bellowing, “Stella!!” Frankly, the heat is putting me in the mood to bellow something much worse! We’re just back from the lake and somehow, the heat seems easier to take when we’re there. Although it rained there this weekend, we still got to go for a lovely cruise at dusk last…

I read once that that in the Chinese language, the term for “crisis” is represented by two symbols, one for danger, the other for opportunity. This is the message I want to give to dear Son, who feels haunted by crisis right now–crisis can be both danger and opportunity. This past weekend, it did seem like for him, in Roseanne Rosannadanna’s words, “it just goes to show you, it’s always something.” Although he enjoyed his time with us and loved getting back to fishing and being at the lake, life at his house 2,000 miles away was in a bit of chaos and he, necessarily, had to be present on…

…really. I’m going to tell you a big fish story. We’re at the lake–the three of us, Son, Husband, and I. It’s Son’s first time here and we were thrilled he could do a fly-by (of sorts) on his way home from a business trip. He seems as pleased as we are with the new lake cottage–driving up with him was a treat. He began the short journey back to his childhood when we were within twenty minutes of our new place, recognizing old familiar landmarks like the bakery in town, the huge sign for the amusement park, the big lake cruiser, and the drive-in theater. He’s enjoying the water…

I’m wondering if as I age, my give-a-shit quotient is diminishing. Here’s the deal: at the moment, we are without AC and our well is acting up. We have water, but one of us has to go out to the garage and keep an eye on the breaker so that if it trips while the other is in the shower, we can switch it back and the water will continue to flow. Our AC is part of a geothermal heat pump, so no water, no AC. It’s a typical Midwestern summer here, so heat and humidity are the order of the day. In spite of all that, I’m happily working…

Okay, I’m prefacing this post with a disclaimer: I love the Interwebs, I’m crazy about my blog, I work electronically from home, my cell phone is always on my person, and I read on a Kindle. So this mini-rant doesn’t come from a place of dial landlines, a typewriter, and snail mail (although I do love to receive letters on pretty stationery…). I don’t get the need for constant communication and contact. It irritates the crap out of me to sit with someone at a restaurant or even at their home or mine and have them constantly eying their smart phone. They set it next to them on the table…

I talk a lot about words on this site—probably because that’s how I make my living and because language is my passion. My mom insisted that we all have strong, extensive vocabularies, so word play is inevitable whenever we have a family event. We are voracious Scrabble and Boggle players, and we just discovered Apples to Apples, a words and definitions game that is loads of fun. So you see, I love words. I collect them the way other people collect Hummel figurines or coins or antiques. But I’ve always been of two minds about profanity—you know, the bad words. I used them in college because I was away from…

…is, interestingly, how I think of Bucky, my friend, Patty’s horse. Bucky died on Friday, after living with Patty for 32 years—and in case you don’t know, that’s a really long life for a horse. Mostly their average lifespan is about 25 years. Bucky was a buckskin pony—almost tall enough to be considered a horse—that babysat anyone who rode him and always moved out with unflagging energy. Patty and Bucky grew up together, riding in 4-H horse shows, trail riding in the hills and hollows of southern Indiana, and later riding the GBRA (Girls Barrel Racing Association) circuit around the Midwest. I loved to watch Patty make a running leap…

This weekend is our first holiday in the new lake cottage. PJ and my brother-in-law have spent a couple days with us and yesterday, we floated and swam in the lake, drank good wine; and cooked out. The neighbors are coming by regularly to introduce themselves and Husband and I are enjoying ourselves immensely in this new place, this new life. It’s so much fun to get to know all these good folks–everyone’s been warm and welcoming and incredibly generous. “Hey if you need any tools, feel free to come up to my workshop, I’ve got anything you need…” or “Hog Roast on the Commons on Sunday, hope you’ll come…