What’s Holding You Back? This question IS quite the challenge, but in order for me to be an honest writer, I have to accept it. I need to question why I’m being held back and I need to find the reason for what is holding me back.
You want to really, truthfully, and honestly know what is holding me back?
I am holding myself back.
Yup! That’s right. I am my own worst enemy. Oh…I’ll write my blog posts on a regular basis..and I love writing them. I really do. It gives me a chance to write about what goes on in the gray matter between my ears and underneath my beautifully blown out waves.
I love engaging and having a good time with the friends to like to read my words.
Overall, I’m a happy little thing. I love to laugh. I love to make fun of myself. It’s what I do. But I suffer from anxiety and depression, and aside from those two very intense maladies, I’m happy. Unfortunately the anxiety and depression take over my ability to do things and both these little critters add to the mix of me holding me back!
Oh.Physically, I’m more than capable of doing. That’s not even an issue. It comes down to a matter of being able to bring my mind’s emotions and state to work together with that physical. For example. Today is a lovely day. In my mind, I know that I should be able to go outside and take my dog for a one to two-hour walk. But I can’t. I swear to you, I just cannot do it.
There is something inside me that won’t allow it. That something sometimes won’t allow me to get dressed or even leave the house on any given day.
That something in me says “You have your lady parts exam next month” “What if there is something wrong with you?” “You can’t go out–there may be something wrong’ “You can’t visit your friends. There may be something wrong with you”. “You cannot reorganize the garage because there may be something wrong with you”.
That something will also say to me ” Is that really a headache or a bloodclot or tumor?” “Is that really a stomach ache or do you have pancreatic cancer?” “Do I have a bad thyroid?” “I think I have fibromyalgia.” “Hey, just what IS fibromyalgia anyway?”
If I see a medical commercial first thing in the morning. It affects me to the point I can’t do anything because that particular disease will float around my complete being and, like war, I’m good for absolutely nothing!
I literally had to stop watching the republican debates last week because listening to those idiots got me into a mental frenzy of unreachable limits. It upset me so much that these sick and controlling men and that one wack job of a woman, want to defund Planned Parenthood and they speak of wanting more war and their hatred and bigotry is so evident that I could not sleep for two nights.
I allowed them to get to me. It’s my own doing.
I feel badly for my kids that they have to have a loser for a mother. A loser because I’ve not been a financial success. I’ve not been a professional success. All three of my children have friends who’s mothers are so successful. They are attorneys. They own businesses. They are perfect. I ain’t.
And I have nobody to blame for that but me. I have allowed my laziness and lack of self-confidence to take over my efforts to try to be a professional writer.
Coming to the harsh realization that I have no income scares the shit outta me. Then I fester upon that. Before I know it, I’m worried that I will lose home number two.
I feel like a complete slacker because Bonaparte shouldn’t have the onus of supporting the both of us and it makes me feel like shit. Then I get angry. Angry at myself. …and the cycle continues.
Seriously, if you read this, please don’t be mad at me because this post isn’t humorous. Just realize that sometimes, I’m lazy and I hold myself back. It hasn’t affected my ability to laugh!
I need a huge dose of happiness right now to help me from holding myself back. Oh well, the good thing is that I own what holds me back. I’m not blaming anyone else but me! I point the finger at myself!
In the meantime, here’s one of my favorite movie songs. Shirley Temple. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. “Come and Get Your Happiness”. I think I will replay this a lot today. Then I’ll get my happiness back and I won’t hold myself back! XOXOXOXO!!!
Ya know, Bonaparte is so good to me. He always makes the best cuppa Joe every morning. He treats me like the pretend royalty that my delusions have me believe I am.
I really am lucky! Bonaparte makes sure I have my morning cawfee, princess style. In bed!
Come and sit with me while we share a cup!
The past few days were busy. Bonaparte knows that I’ve been feeling ridiculously sorry for myself, wallowing in self-pity, being quite a pain-in-the ass , a bit depressed lately. I miss New York City something awful. I just don’t have an emotional connection with the Philadelphia area nor do I have a connection with the people. Each day becomes more and more crippling for me, but I do struggle to make the best of the situation! After all, I’ve got Bonaparte, my kids,Chippy, and a great home!
Seriously, I may be office poison and can’t get a job due to my age, but I have a nice life. I’ll bitch and moan, but between my kids and Bonaparte, I’m only lucky lady! Oh..and Adam blew my hair out on Friday. Lovin’ my waves!
Anyway, yesterday Bonaparte decided to take me into New York. Jake and Roman met us for a nice brunch at Les Halles, Anthony Bourdain’s restaurant where we had a most enjoyable time.
Hey, would I lie to you? Trust me, if you are in Manhattan any time soon, have lunch or dinner at Les Halles. It isn’t “haute cuisine”, but the food is consistent in being good. It’s easy simple and non-complicated French bistro stuff. Nice ambiance too–and the wait staff is great! It is our “go-to” NYC place! Can’t go wrong here!
It’s just very comforting when I’m in New York and with the kids. Its amazing how one afternoon spent back in New York City, for just a few hours, can bring my spirit back up to a good place. It’s even better when the boys are able to meet us. If only Oona were back in New York……….
We had good food, good conversation, and the weather was perfect for driving and walking around!
The skies were overcast as we entered the city. But….
By the time we finished brunch and headed downtown the sun and blue skies took over!
We dropped Roman off at the new WTC site. I think I’m almost ready to venture and explore the “new” downtown.
It’s always fun to go to the City because it’s also an excuse for me to get dressed a bit.
Do you like my outfit? I got to wear my new J. Crew Regency blazer and my new front-zipper Pixie Pants also from J. Crew. The Repetto ballet flats I got for a steal of 93 euros this past summer were so comfortable. THE perfect shoes for walking in the City!
It was just one of those really great days. Traffic was on our side, no wait to get through the Holland Tunnel in both directions. It was a nice way to finish the summer!
Oh wait. I didn’t tell you? I had an interview with a staffing agency last week. I just about had a full-blown anxiety/panic attack about it too.
They “tested” me on my Excel skills! Excel—that unforgiving little program that Microsoft changes from year to year. Microsofties think that they do us a favor by revamping and “improving” the program. They aren’t—they just make it easier for rocket scientists and MIT students. Your average administrative and executive assistants just become frustrated and stressed.
Anyway, I had to deal with Pivot tables, charts, formulas, page layouts, workbooks, sheets….question upon question upon question and I thought the small amount of gray matter in between my ears would burst! Then my anxiety peaked in anticipation of my “Word” skills test immediately following this Excel judgement. So I finished the test, my confidence was in the sue-ah (that’s NY talk for sewer). Then I heard an announcement. I had a perfect score. 100% correct! Because of this perfect score the “Word” testing was waived!
That was pretty cool, I have to admit. My confidence was rising…
Oh! I almost forget. Saturday evening brought about a great dinner dish! “Poulet a la Provencale”.
This recipe is amazing and so easy. I’ve altered it a bit though.
I altered the recipe just a bit–mostly in the procedure of cooking it. Have a click and let me know if you try it! Poulet a la Provencale
See this book?
Take it from me, if you EVER see this book in a store, grab it and take it home. It will be invaluable!
Hands down, it’s the best French home-style cookbook of all time. My copy is so dog-eared and so filled with spills and crumbs. I picked it up at the now-defunct “Borders” book store for about six dollars maybe eight years ago. Bonaparte says it is the most realistic French cookbook ever!
Serve with a salad and a nice wine and you’ve got a nice light dinner! Perfect for the end of summer and into early fall!
It was a nice few days. Not overly ambitious, and not boring. Fun but just enough to fill those last lazy days of summer….
..which fits in well with today’s song? “Lazy Day”. Spanky and Our Gang. I loved Spanky!
Oops! Our cawfee is now iced because I tawked too long! XOXOXO!!!
Or should I say “High” Society? Seriously society, what the hell has happened to you? I mean, you used to be so classy and proper and cultured and intellectual!
Baby, you used to care. You had high standards! You used to be somebodies! You used to be contenders. Now you are all but washed up. And you did it to yourself.
Maybe 60 years isn’t very long to be on this earth to give you some constructive criticism, but I’ve seen so many changes in you. Trust me, the good changes are few and the not-so-good changes are plenty. I need to understand. I need you to explain.
Society. I need you to examine your conscience.
There was a time when you were a better people. I remember it well. I can remember being a child and going shopping or out and about or visiting others in the company of my parents. Before making sure I was neatly dressed, I would be reminded on how to behave in public. This was a time when people smiled at each other. Men would give a tip of their hats. Women would smile and give a polite little wave. People acknowledged each other. People actually liked each other and enjoyed each other’s company.
People don’t acknowledge any more. They either ignore or text. Or eye roll. What happened to conversation?
Society, you used to be very aware of what was going on in the world! As young students, we had to watch the news each night because we never knew when we would be “pop” quizzed on current events. The nightly news on TV reported the news and told it like it was. There was no pandering or dumbing down. We saw hard footage of the troops in Vietnam. We saw protests. The news was delivered by serious and real hard-news journalists like Walter Cronkite and Chet Huntley and David Brinkley.
Now we have “fun” news. Politically correct newscasts with a various number of “friendly” anchors who are botoxed, hair extensioned, toothy veneered and smile and laugh through even the most dismal of news. Oh…and Society, since when is your idea of “World News” only news that is contained within the borders of these 50 States? There’s a whole ‘nother world to report about. Stop looking at your belly button. Why does every news show have to end with a touchy-feely human interest story? That isn’t news!!!!! Go back to news reports the way they should be!
Hey, Society—here’s a good one. Do you remember engaging in real conversation? Well, I’ll tell you, I can remember those days. You were fantastic at both small talk and intense debate. You could show your charming side by talking so eloquently about the weather, and then change gears to flow into an intense and intellectual debate about the Vietnam War, hippies, or the housing issues in major cities!
Instead these days you engage in shaming and hating over the internet. Fat shaming. Ugly shaming. Gay hating. Trans hating. Black hating. White hating. Yellow hating. Magenta hating. Blue hating. Candy Corn hating. You don’t come out from hiding behind your computers or phones. Oh you faceless bullies—aww you make me so scared.
There was a time, Society, when you would love to read a book. Libraries were popular in the not-all-that-distant past. There was something special about perusing through the shelves of books. Those shiny plastic covers that the Library books were clothed in made them sparkle in the fluorescent light of the building. Opened books gave away their age, not by the copyright date, but by the distinct scent of the binding—sometimes a bit musty, but nevertheless enticing. Books were food—food for the brain. Growing up, going to the library was practically a social event. Friends would meet to do homework. People would become frustrated if they had to be placed on a waiting list for that new novel. Some seeked solace from their noisy families.
Society. When was the last time you applied for a library card?
Society, there was a time when your politicians were a bi-partisan bunch. Politicians may have not agreed on everything, but they all had a clear and concise vision of what was needed for the American people. They didn’t have a personal agenda. They weren’t sleeping with insurance companies and lobbyists. They were not filled with hatred. They respected. They were passionate. They wanted to help.
Instead, now we have a bunch of politicians who are filled with the vilest of hate and bigotry. They don’t accept differences in people nor do they accept different lifestyles or ideologies. Today’s politicians want to bully women. These men have already started their policies to lower funding to Planned Parenthood because they want control over women. NO MAN EVER HAS THE RIGHT TO TELL A WOMAN WHAT TO DO WITH HER BODY. PERIOD! Listen to me Society. I’ll show these bozos what Planned Parenthood is. I’ll castrate those men. THEN we’ll give you, Society, new meaning to Planned Parenthood!
Society—can you answer me this. When did God join the presidential race? I mean, I remember when there was an exact boundary line between Church and State. All the politicians today are speaking about bringing God into politics.
Hey. What about the people in our good country who are not of the Christian ideology? What about Jews? They don’t count? What about Muslims (and no. Not all Muslims are terrorists) or Hindus, Taoists, Sikhs, Shintos, Buddhists and Atheists? What about them? They vote. They pay taxes.
My God, and his cute son, Hipster Jesus, have too fucking much on their plates to worry about the politics of this country. Let God do his damn job without having to be involved in your politics. He wants nothing to do with it. He told me so!
Hey, Society. Do you remember when celebrities were talented actors or singers or all-around entertainers? These were people who could do everything. The days of TV may have been younger, but programming was far superior. Variety shows showcasing these talents of the many versatile stars ruled. We watched well-written drama and westerns. We had smart comedy. “Reality” TV consisted of quiz shows like “What’s My Line” or “I’ve Got a Secret.” I remember when Broadway was “The Theatre“..and not a bunch of rehashed Disney films set to a stage production.
These days you have turned network TV into a garbage bin of infantile comedies featuring annoyingly precocious children who turn adults into idiotic buffoons. Less time is spent watching the show and more time is spent viewing the five-minute commercials about various prescription drugs. Those commercials cover every nuance of the drugs because people can no longer afford to visit their doctors—the co-pay is too expensive. The commercials do the job instead. That is pitiful. I would rather see a commercial for laundry detergent or perhaps watch The Marlboro Man take someone’s gun away from them.
Society—do you not know the meaning of talent? You have a reality star that has become a super celebrity all because she made a sex tape and went pee-pee on her man. Yes. She is now a gazillionaire because of sex and pee-pee. But yet, a woman who breastfeeds her child in public is considered a filthy pig by some. Am I missing something here? I’m not processing!
Society you are making people who refuse to do their job famous! We have, in one corner a government clerk who refuses to administer a marriage license because of her “Christian” beliefs. On the other end of the spectrum, we have a flight attendant who converted to a “Non-Christian” ideology and she refused to serve alcohol to a passenger on a flight. Don’t make these people famous. JUST FIRE THEM! End of story. Over and out! Grow some balls and stop being politically correct!
You were once gentle, my dear Society. Guns used to be something that only the military and police officers used. Oh. The hunters had their ammunition too. And others acquired licenses to carry. But, where you were once gentle, your dark side took over and now gun violence seems to be the norm. Society, you believe we all have the right to bear arms because “guns don’t kill”. Well, you’re right. Guns alone, sitting on a shelf, without bullets, don’t kill. Put some bullets in that gun, hand it to an overemotional person filled with rage and anger and that gun is gonna murder. How about we arm everyone with water pistols as a better solution? You’ll still be able to bear arms, only those arms are going to spit water and not bullets!
Society, you need to change your ways. You believe we need to be the world’s leader? I think you are incorrect my dear. We definitely need a leader—but your arrogance in stating we need to be the world leader is way off.
I’ll tell you why.
How can you, Society, be a world leader when you cannot even provide your citizens with the proper healthcare? How can you be a world leader when the entitled one percent of this country, evades paying the maximum amount of taxes when a lowly paid clerk ends up paying 30 percent of their wages to your government? How can you be a world leader when you allow the banks to rob people with high percentage rates—and those very banks sit on their monies collected? Remember, the banks caused our economic demise just a few years back—and not a one paid for it. How can you be a world leader when our public education system is inferior? Society, you cut funds for the arts in school. You cut the funds for the space program. These are important programs. Important to not only our society, but our global society.
How can you be a world leader when we have Americans who ARE refugees? Refugees in our own country who go ignored. They are the homeless. They are the un and under employed. They are without health insurance. They are without education. So Society, I say to your do-gooders, take a look in your own backyard. Charity begins at home!
Please, Society, don’t be alarmed at what I write. You don’t notice how your personality has changed. You don’t realize you were once a strong, feisty, intelligent, talented people. You’ve regressed.
It isn’t too late. I still have hope. Just return to being caring, and genteel. Realize that others are not the same as you. Realize that hate can be cured without going to war. Realize that our world is smaller and we need world leaders. Not a world leader!
Realize that you have a country full of beautiful people. That beautiful group is the middle-class. They are all but extinct. And it’s time to bring them back and become the true Society you once were.
One of my blogger friends, Bun Karyudo, made a great comment:
“It’s funny, there was a time when wearing boots was a man’s thing, but nowadays they only men who get the chance are ones appearing in historical dramas.”
Dingo Bingo! I had an epiphany!
Some men need to be thanked for their contributions to women’s fashions.
I’m writing a thankful post today to some of the men who have made women more beautiful by foreseeing fashion trends.
Louis Quatorze. The great King of France, Louis XIV. Now there was a man who truly loved women! Louis was a man way ahead of his time and he wasn’t afraid to show his feminine side.
Look how regal Louis Quatorze stands. Note the huge ribbon to tie his hair back with. Note the boots. I think Tory Burch copied his boot look! Note the flow of the scarves. It’s so Boho.
I want you to take a good look at the bigness of his hair. This man has been a huge inspiration to the hair of Texan women and Long Island woman and this former Long Island woman fondly thanks him.
He danced the ballet—in the female roles no less!!
Oh. Let me tell you something. Not only did Louis XIV inspire fashion for everyday life, but take a look at today’s Irish Dance Champs……
..that’s right. Look at Oona’s wig. Look at Oona’s crown. Look at Oona’s incredibly expensive dance dress I bought that she only wore twice. Even the Jig shoes were inspired by French royalty. Forget Michael Flatley. The Irish Dancers should be indebted to Louis XIV for their “look”! Am I right???
He and the men of his court influenced women of all centuries with his dress and hair and makeup!
Check out the flushed cheeks, pale faces and that beauty mark on the guy on the right. We know where Marilyn Monroe and Cindy Crawford got the ideas for their beauty marks now, don’t we??? ( I only HOPE that is a beauty mark and not something else…..)
If it weren’t for ol’ Louis, we would not be wearing heels.
This is Louis XIV’s ballet slipper. Need I say more? Who do you think inspired Christian Louboutin?
He also invested in great real estate for his woman! He even got her a fashionable home!
I died. Died when I went to visit the chateau that Madame Maintenon received from Louis. It’s soooooooooooo much more intimate than Versailles.
Napoleon Bonaparte holds a special place in my heart too!
I took this pic of my man Napoleon some years ago when we were at Les Invalides. Napoleon’s sense of style overwhelms me with happiness.
If it weren’t for the fashion sense of Napoleon Bonaparte, we women would never have the cool military-inspired clothing that we can wear today!
I almost broke the glass to try this military jacket on. It spoke to me. I want a Bicorn hat just like Napoleon’s. I want that jacket.
The boots. The military uniforms. The pants tucked into the boots. The hats, which, in my opinion were to-die-for! I tell you, Napoleon Bonaparte is my fashion icon.
Be still my heart! Is that a CHAMBRAY military jacket to the left? And the Winter White uniform on the right? Who says you can’t wear white after Labor Day?
I could not resist taking pics of these cute little military dolls when we were at Invalides in Paris. It’s the coolest place. Plus, it’s chock full of fashion inspiration. What would Barbie do? (Hint. She’d have a field day with THESE guys!)
Napoleon inspired all the money spent on my blazers and boots!
My Napoleon-inspired weekend look makes me want to give orders to MY Bonaparte!
I’ll definitely have fun Napoleonizing these blazers when the weather cools off!
Lest we forget, I dig his taste in outerwear….
Napoleon–don’t look so sad. Waterloo was just a loss. Look at the winning way you’ve inspired so many women with your taste in clothes. I would kill for that coat..and the boots too. I do so think today’s fashion models were also inspired by your miserable pout, though. They always look so pissed off–thanks to this guy!
Napoleon also had a touch of whimsy! Where do you think Hippies got the idea for leafy and floral wreaths in their hair? Where do you think “Ladies-who-lunch” got the idea for little fur stoles and coverlets?
What a whimsical fashion multi-tasker. A pleasant mix of hippie and ladies-who-lunch. A leafy crown and an ermine coverlet. A true trendsetter ahead of his time!
He also invested in excellent real estate too! I”m not crazy about the home he purchased for Josephine after their divorce, but I do love Fontainebleu just outside of Paris. It’s my HGTV dream home!
Hey. Napoleon needed someplace to store all that military clothing! I impressed myself with the quality of this photo I snapped!
For modern day dresses, I would love to thank Andre Courreges.
To me, Andre Courreges personifies simplistic and chic fashion.
Andre brought a simplistic and comfortable style to the way we women dress today. Chic. A nice fit that isn’t tight yet not matronly. A flattering way of dressing for women of all sizes. He, along with Mary Quant were the parents of “Mod” fashion!
The only label I own that is this impressive….
It’s a hand-me-down from Bonaparte’s aunt, Daniele. I’m not proud! I think Chippy wants to eat the hanger.
Merci Monsieur Courreges!
Also, thanks to my very own Bonaparte.
The OTHER Bonaparte. Emperor of our home!
Thank you (sometimes) for being brutally honest with me when my fashion sense is just a bit “off”. Sort of thank you for telling me that I’m past the micro-mini stage of my life too.
Thank you man, I feel like a woman!
Now can you get me a coat like the other Bonaparte’s?
Did you really think I would post any song other than Shania’s “Man. I Feel Like A Woman!” XOXOXOXOXOXO!! Sing it Sista!
“I swearda God I’m gonna boot yer ass from here ta kingdom come”
Thomas Wynne
Quoted on a Friday evening in the Fall in 1975 when two Thai sticks fell out of my brother’s back jeans pocket.
My brother’s biggest mistake was getting caught. That’s what younger sibs get for not listening to me!
Ahh. Fall! It evokes so many warm and toasty memories. Like the one above. I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face when those sticks fell out of my brother’s pocket. It was hard to fool my dad. He was a NYC police officer.
If only I had a sign that read: Stoner Lives Matter.
And no. My dad did NOT boot my brother’s ass from here to kingdom come. He did worse. My brother had two tickets to see Elton John at the Garden. He was going to take a girl he liked.
My dad ripped the tickets up. Talk about Police Brutality and Tough Love!
The scent of burning cannibus leaves in the Fall has been replaced with Pumpkin Spice Lattes!
Starbucks Spiced Pumpkin Latte is now the recreational drug of choice these days!
How warm and fuzzy.
That quote by my dad reminded me that I needed to assess my “BOOT” wardrobe from last year.
Everything always comes back to me!
My closet floor was a mess. Shoes and boots everywhere. Being depressed isn’t easy you know—it just creates mess and clutter. And then I have to clean it up.
I have no idea how that gym shoe got on top of that pile. I haven’t worked out in over a year. That’s right. I own my laziness.
Ugh. In order to get to my boots, I knew I would have to start by organizing my shoes.
I had to tackle this mess too.
Oh damn. Bonaparte is gonna freak out if he sees the mess Chippy made! Well, at least he knows well enough to not eat any more of my sandals or shoes!
I also had to tackle Chippy’s handy work…
…while he completely ignores me…
Then I did something that I have been dreading since the late spring and my enormous weight gain.
I tried my Tory Burch boots on to see if they fit.
This is where the struggle began. I had to muster all my strength and shove my fat calf into this boot. I broke out in a sweat. (maybe I lost an ounce in the process?)
Let me tell you a bit about these boots. They are the bane of my existence. I purchased them….four or five years ago at Nordstrom’s huge semi-annual sale.I got them half price.
When I tried them on, I was wearing tights. That means there wasn’t any extra fabric from—jeans to get in the way. I zipped the boots up—just barely and they fit OK, but felt weird in the foot. I just figured the odd fit was because they were new and a bit stiff.
The next time I wore the boots, it took a bit longer to zip them up. I was wearing skinny jeans and the fabric from the jeans—albeit it stretchy, made it nearly impossible to zip the boots up. But—I was determined and won the war.
The boots were the most uncomfortable boots in the world. Big score for Tory Burch. At least she only got half my money.
The thing is, I love the color of the boots. I love the hardware. I wish the boot was taller because I love a super tall boot.
I also cannot stand the “foot” part of these boots—they make my foot look huge!!!!
See how big the foot part is of this boot? My feet look massive.
Anyway, I squeezed my ever-widening ass and ever-thickening thighs into one of my favorite pair of Skinnies: Gap 1969 Legging Jeans. Even though I’ve grown into a 10, it’s really important to size down when it comes to skinny jeans with stretch.
Luckily, over time the boots stretched out in the calf area and I was able to zip them up. Big but (or shall I say “butt”) here. One of my calves is thicker than the other. My left leg was killing me because it was so tight. My blood circulation felt completely cut off. I could not wait to get these things off.
That is not a smile on my face. It’s a grimace because my left leg’s blood circulation was cut off! Do you like the blazer? J. Crew Regent blazer. 30% off. I’ll be in trouble when Bonaparte reads this blog post today.
Solution? I’ll either take the boots to be stretched professionally, or I’ll do it myself.
Those boots were the first—and last Tory Burch boots I will ever purchase!
In the meantime, I’ll keep wearing this pair of over-the-knee boots from Chinese Laundry. Got ’em maybe three or four years ago—under $100. They are comfortable as all get out and look great. They’ve held up incredibly well for an inexpensive boot!
The fake leather is super comfy. Oh…I just realized these boots are Vegan. I feel even more good about these boots now. Seriously. I really like these boots so much and they are very calf-friendly.
I’ve always loved the Stuart Weitzman 50/50 boots, but just cannot justify spending $655.00 on them. Besides the price, I would be petrified to wear them in the extreme winter weather and ruining them.
Miranda Kerr can afford Stuart Weitzman, but the majority of us cannot. Although I must say, these boots are beautiful–but unaffordable.
Last year, I spotted a great dupe at DSW for $49.99. I ended up purchasing a pair for my daughter, Oona and a pair for me.
Sure—they are on the “cheaper” end, but they look great and wear very well. Oona said they actually held up better in the messy NYC winter than she could have ever imagined.
These Unisa knock-offs come in various colors too and are extremely “calf friendly”. Muscular, wider, athletic calves won’t have any issue wearing these!
This photo sucks. My apologies. But look how decent the Unisa dupes of the 50/50’s look. For the price, not bad at all.
A year before discovering the Unisa knock off, I found a Nine West dupe at Lord and Taylor. They were $149.00 and I had a coupon for 40% off. It was a deal!
Nine West boots on the left. Unisa on the right. Trust me, both pair look much better on a set of legs than on the floor.
The material is a bit on the shinier side, but these look great with skirts and dresses. I like the tallness of these boots too and they have held up amazingly well!
This is the great surprise about cleaning your closet out. I forgot about these high dark brown boots by Hinge. Again, I purchased these at Nordstrom’s semi-annual sale at the end of summer 2014. They are tall, they zip up with jeans. I like the rugged look and they make my feet look small.
These are another favorite of mine (even though I forgot I had them). They are slightly rugged looking and imperfect.
See these Vince Camuto booties below? I love them and they are comfy. I’m hoping I get some decent use out of them this winter. They are perfect for office wear. But what office am I going to wear these in? My home office???? I may just give them to Oona—she’ll get more use out of them!
It would be nice to have a job to wear these cuties to. Oh well, I can dream, can’t I?
I love the Sam Edelman boots that lace up. I call them my “nun” boots. They are pictured below on the left. The Enzo Angiolini boots on the right are a favorite of Bonaparte’s. He loves the way they look on me! He’s going to have to clean them for me though because I have salt marks from the snow on them.
See how bunched up the jeans are? I cannot stand when that happens. That’s why a belt is needed when wearing skinny jeans and boots.
Now look at the pic. I put a belt on.
See what a belt does? It keeps my jeans up and then there’s no bunching. Nice and smooth.
I need to rest now. It’s hot and I should be in shorts and a loose t shirt instead of the clothing changes I made with all these boots. Hot flashes! I’m gonna cool off.
So long for today folks! I’m going to get an ice cold drink and chill!
Hopefully it’ll get cool enough to wear these boots soon. Very soon.
Oh. Before I leave. Here’s the end result of my boot pile. It should stay like this at least until the weekend.
Since the topic is boots—here’s some Bootsy Collins. “Bootzilla” Time to get funked up!
Shhhhhh…..quiet. Ok. Listen. I have something to say.
I have fallen deeper into the abyss of Blogging School Duncedom and I need to revisit.
Why do I have to have goals and gain a larger percentage of readers? Am I a dunceable failure because I don’t? I thought this stuff took time?
Maybe I just wasn’t honest with myself when I started my blog.
I was just a teensy, weensy bit delusional.
Let’s revisit. Again.
I lost my job and I needed something to occupy my mind. I always loved to write and was good at it. Mind you, I’ve always been good. Not great. I can get a simple thought across in an uncomplicated way. I don’t like using a lot of SAT words because it isn’t my nature. I like to tell it like it is—but with humor.
It was my “vison” (or since I’m cross-eyed, shall I say double vision?) to have a blog geared toward the “over 55 crowd”. You know, fashion talk for women who are older but like to dress nicely and sometimes a bit on the more youthful side?
I thought it would be fun to have recipes scattered throughout.
Yes. I made this easy summer vegetable dish. Now that the cooler weather is back, I’ll be able to add more recipes!
I also thought it would be cool to talk about cosmetics and makeup….
One of my favorite things to talk about. BTW, the MUFE HD foundation just doesn’t seem to be working for me anymore. I’ll have to write about that!
….and address the mother of all “ism’s”. Ageism.
Oh, I will NEVER stop writing about THIS ism! Mick Jagger and Ray Davies haven’t gotten back to me about my Age-Aid concert yet. I’ll keep trying!
But—as I started to write, and continued to write, I discovered the focus to be more on my life as an unemployed, anxiety-ridden, American-living-with-a-Frenchman, mother of three grown children and a rescue dog, “stuck in the suburbs because NYC, the home that I had for so long is no longer affordable to middle-class people” woman with absolutely no purpose in life. Let’s get that pity party rollin’ my friends!
WAIT! Then I realized that I DO have a purpose in life!
Like Steve Martin, I, too, have a special purpose in life! I just didn’t realize it!
And that purpose is to write about shit that people may think about, but don’t necessarily talk about. Um…like lady baldness and lady whiskers. Or….people who like to “hide” behind their religious ideologies. Or….bringing back memories of loved ones who left us. Or…failures as well as successes. Or….how being that slightly unkempt person who just isn’t perfect is a perfectly fine way to be!
I’m the one who will be completely honest and tell you. I haven’t taken a bath or shaved my legs or pits for four days. I stink. No. Literally. I stink. I smell. And that’s ok because I know there are others who do the same thing—but won’t admit it. Instead, you can read my blog and admit it to yourself. Nobody else needs to know!
I have no issues showing you what my messy fridge looks like before I clean it out. I’ll even show you the mold on the three-month old strawberries. Why? Because that happens to the best of us. We’ll place something in the way back of the fridge, we’ll forget about it and months later, we’ll realize what we did or didn’t do. And it’s ok!
I’ll write about my travels in France—but not in a pretentious “I’m-ajet-setter-and-you’re-not-and-I-know-everything-about-the-French-and-you-do-not” I try to write about my experiences just basically having a great time and realizing that I am fortunate enough to have these experiences that I just want to share.
I see things just slightly different than most travelers!
Although I’m no expert on film and music, I still like to write about my thoughts on what music and films I like and love. It’s all subjective.
Basically—I write about nothing and everything! I’m comfortable with that. It’s the way I roll!
Granted—I had delusions that someone famous would see my blog and recommend my little blog to all their friends. My delusions then took me to a place where I had millions of Twitter and Instagram followers (Ugh. I friggin’ despise the word “followers”—can’t it just be changed to “friends”?).
Whenever I see or hear the word “followers” I am reminded of Follow the Leader from Disney’s Peter Pan!
I had visions of me guesting on the Today Show—but only with Kathy Lee and Hoda! We would drink wine and talk shoes and go on and on about meaningless trivial matters! It would be awesome.
Hey ladies. Don’t forget to make a drink for ME! Kathy, can I borrow your earrings?
My visions also took me to the Jen Lancaster universe.
I thought I could be the next Jen Lancaster!
That universe of someone who writes a blog—then becomes “discovered”, then builds a crazy-ass fan base. Then writes books—but about herself.
I’ve read all of these–and more! I”ve even left some of her books behind at the apartment in France so others could discover her. I’m SUCH a giver! Her fiction isn’t as good as the books about her though!
OMG. I could be like Jen Lancaster and write best-selling books about my favorite subject. ME!!!!!!
I could write about little me…
And (skinny) mommy me….and
….old me who seems to be gaining weight at Superman’s quicker speed of light.
And time marched on. And I didn’t gain any famous “followers’ friends. I didn’t get a call from Kathy Lee or Hoda.
My blog’s Facebook page goes virtually unnoticed. I’m not popular like Jen Lancaster.
I’m not the blogger eating lunch with the popular blogging queens or kings.
I don’t have 23,000 “followers” or rather “friends” thank you!
Instead, I’ve become a realist.
I’m writing my blog for myself but I’m also writing to those friends of mine who stop by regularly to read about what I have to say for that particular day!
Yes, I sometimes scratch my head in wonder about just how the fu….Oops—I wonder just how does anyone acquire thousands upon thousands of readers or followers !
Then I pause and smile just a bit wider!
My eyes can’t get any more crossed but my smile keeps getting wider and wider because I love my blog and I love my friends who read and enjoy my blog!
I love my little blog! I love writing about absolutely nothing and yet everything!
I love that fact that there are a little over 500 readers in my little club! As long as my reading friends are happy and enjoy what I write about—that is what matters most!
It is far more important to stay true to myself and who I am.
My goals are simple– just keep writing and writing and blogging and blogging.
I’m like the Little Engine That Could. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…WRITE!!!!!
And I have no expectations. Never expect and never be disappointed!
My habits will remain the same. I write in our home office. I write listening to music or nothing at all.
With that, I give hugs and kisses to my friends who read my blog and like it and continue to read! You make me happy. You have given me purpose!
You really Like me.
I feel so….so… Sally Field!
NEW YORK, NY – JANUARY 26: Actress Sally Field attends the NBC Entertainment & Cinema Society with Volvo premiere of “Smash” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on January 26, 2012 in New York City. (Photo by Stephen Lovekin/Getty Images)
Yes, Sally, I really like you. I liked your Gidget wardrobe much more, but I still like you! I like your glasses too. Can I borrow them?
I’m also quite happy that I haven’t been sued…………….Yet!
And with that, I will try to continue to write at least three posts a week—but it’ll probably be more because I have so much to say about so little!
Well, I really should get dressed. Bonaparte is becoming more and more concerned about my not wanting to leave the house. But my reasons are so shallow that it’s shameful.
I don’t want to leave the house because I may become tempted. My temptation comes not from Satan, but it comes from the King of Prussia Mall and Home Goods and TJ Maxx. It’s because I’m a giver! I’m such a giver that I don’t want to give any of these stores Bonaparte’s money!
Enjoy the Monday! I think I will go out after all. There is zero humidity and my hair needs to take advantage of this glorious good hair day!
XOXOXOXO
Speaking of music, I’m posting “The Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats. I heard it the other day and cannot get it out of my mind. Plus—the weird guy who sings the song is cute!
I’ve had enough and I’m not gonna take it anymore! That’s right. I’m talking about the new “ism”!
AGE-ISM!
I’ve designed Tee shirts for my Age-Aid concert! All funds will be donated to the fight against ageism!
We older, wiser and more sage beings of this earthly universe have basically been put out to pasture like a pack of old cows!
That’s right my little bovine friends. We are all the same! We’ve been put out to pasture too!
Here’s a good example of older women, in particular, being persona-non-fashionable-grata. I received this Fall style guide by the editors of “In Style” Magazine.
Elle Fanning is a beautiful 17 year old actor. HTF does a 17-year old become an expert on style? WTF do fashion magazines INSIST on ignoring older women?
Apparently “style” is only worth it if you are under 21. Where’s the love for the older women? We don’t buy clothing? We don’t use makeup?
Yeah. That’s right!!! We older women need a spokes person like Helen Mirren! Who needs a MILF when you have a great GILF????
What about the politicians who are all planning their strategies to win the competition to be the next President of these United States of America?
Hillary is 67. The Donald is 69 (giggle). Bernie is 74. All seniors. All should be strategizing to gain the votes of their peer groups as well as the younger votes. What about Social Security? What about better healthcare? What about employment for the over 55 crowd? You are all part of this group–take care of your own!
Most of them are older. But wait!! I have yet to hear ANY of them speak of ensuring a better life for older and senior citizens? How come? They want the vote of youth, but don’t want to acknowledge the needs of their peer groups!
We need a revolution! We need a revolution against Ageism!
That’s right. Keep calm–by having peaceful protests, demonstrations and…a concert!!!
Our revolution woud be a bit more peaceful than Eugene Delacroix’s vision! But hopefully, we would have a change for the better!
We need a benefit concert! Just like Farm-Aid, Band-Aid and the infamous Live-Aid, we need a concert for “Age-Aid”!
Naturally, we would need a Master of Ceremonies…and my vote would be for Mo Rocca. He loves old people—especially very old people. Three words: My. Grandmother’s. Ravioli.
Mo’s gray locks also give him that older, more distinguished look!
If you haven’t seen the show “My Grandmother’s Ravioli”, I’ll clue you in. Mo visits grandparents and they cook meals—just like Mo’s grandma used to make. Too bad I’m not a grandma!
An added bonus is that Mo is only 46 years old—he’s a baby, but he can draw support from the younger adults! Am I right????
Anyway, Peggy, from one of the episodes would be great for organizing the food stands. She volunteers in a local church-run soup kitchen. Plus, she could make a ton of scones and soda bread!
Peggy would be a fine choice to run the food stands at the Age-Aid concert. She helps run the church soup kitchen–she knows how to organize!!!
Just think. I can get the Rolling Stones. These guys are as old as dirt but they be bangin’!!!
Mick can run around the stage without assistance! The Stones would be just perfect for Age-Aid!
Can you picture Mick Jagger singing to the tune of “Satisfaction” a new song entitled “Health Care Action”
I can’t get no-o health care action
I can’t get no-o. Doc reaction
And I tried, And I tried, And I tried, Almost died!
I can’t get no….no no no…….
What about the rockstar love of my life, Ray Davies?
Ray Davies is still a heartthrob. Wait. I just MAY need a defibrillator to calm my heartbeat down!!!
He can change “Lola” into “Olda”
I met her at a bar down in North SoHo
Where you drink champagne and it tastes like fiber filled cola
C-O-L-A Cola
She walked up to me and she asked me to dance
I asked her her name
And in a raspy ex-smokers voice
She said Olda
That’s ’cause I’m just Older
O-L-D-A. Oldaaaaaa
What about BRUCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bruce still puts on a great show. I’ll make sure there’s plenty of strong Starbuck’s cawfee for the performers backstage to keep ’em moving!
Here’s a guy who can change the words to “Born in the U.S.A” to this…
Born in the USA
But-I’ve been thrown Away…..
For obvious reasons, it would be of the utmost importance to bring Bob Weir of “The Grateful Dead”.
Bob would bring the “Dead Heads” into the concert. Hey Bob–I’m “Grateful” I’m NOT “Dead”!
And change the “Truckin” lyrics ever-so-slightly!
Truckin’ got my chips cashed in. Keep truckin’, like the ambulance man
Together, more or less in line, just keep truckin’ on.
Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street.
Chicago, New York, Detroit and it’s all on the same street.
ATYPICAL60 involved in delusional daydream
She doesn’t give up. She sees what tomorrow brings.
Hey man, SOMETHING’S gotta be about ME! I like the new “Truckin'” lyrics. And if the concert is outdoors, I have to wear a protective hat these days. Old People! You know I love ’em!
I can get Joni Mitchel and Judy Collins to team up for a medley of duets. They can sing my FAVORITE Joni Mitchell song of all time!! CAREY!!…but the lyrics can be changed from:
It would be awesome to have Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins sing a few duets!
Carey get out your cane….
To
Carey throw out your cane!!
I’ll try to book Neil Young. He can do a rendition of “Cinnamon Girl” but change it to “Medicare Girl”!
Maybe Neil Young will use me as a muse for “Medicare Girl”! I can dance around the stage!
Oh I think I’m onto something great and wonderful here!
We will also need songs of protest. Protest against large corporations for not hiring older people. We need songs of protest against health insurance companies!!! Older people DO need better entitlement programs because, dammit—we helped build these corporations and insurance companies and now we are getting a slap in the face and a shovel to dig our own graves!!!!
I’m working on some posters to carry for either protesting or the Age-Aid concert!
We demand the respect and love we do so deserve!!!
Perhaps Jefferson Airplane can come onboard and sing their infamous lyrics. Oh wait. They are now Jefferson “Starship!” Fuggedit. I’ll just have to pry Grace Slick out of retirement and beg her to sing “Volunteers”.
Grace doesn’t want to come out of retirement to sing old rock songs..but I KNOW I can convince her! I think if I threaten her with MY rendition of “White Rabbit” sung at my annoying nasal and high-pitched voice, she’ll agree to perform–only if I shut up!
One generation got old
One generation got sold….
We could get the cast of the great “Grace and Frankie” to make a speech about having more programming about the lives of older adults!
That’s right! We need more great programming geared to Seniors–we should NOT be stereotyped as old farts! Fonda and Tomlin rock their roles! And they look fabulous!
Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston as both the women’s ex-husbands and an attractive older gay couple make the show hysterically funny and touching! Age-Aid could use a speech from this cast!
It would be such a beautiful and wonderful world if we could get together to stop Agesim. It would be great if all of us old people were definitely guaranteed those Social Security benefits that we worked so hard for—even if the tightie righties are trying to stop us from receiving those benefits.
Here’s another poster I created! I AM “Old and Bold”!!!
Let’s DO this! Let’s start an Ageism revolution!!! Old lives matter very much so.
Without the seniors of our country, who would the younger generations turn to for advice? Siri can’t help you with logical, emotional, or sage advice!
Hey. Youth. Siri can’t solve all your problems! Sometimes you need a human who is older and wiser!
Wouldn’t it be great if there was no ageism? It would be a terrific existence if all ages could get along together and work together and not hate each others’ generations…..if only..
Today I’m posting Phil Ochs “What Are You Fighting For?” Still as relevant today as it was years ago. RIP Mr. Ochs. We could use you now!XOXOXOXO!!!
I started writing a post last night about home decorating and improvement from my “empty nester” point of view. But when I woke up this morning, there were reminders of this horrific event that is now 15 years old.
Back in the late 1970’s I worked in the WTC. While I have good memories of working there, I never felt fully “safe” there–the elevators shook and swayed and the building seemed to be a Tower of Babel of sorts.
Probably the most intriguing memory was the morning when Philippe Petit took a highwire stroll across the towers. We all agreed he was a friggin’ nut! But we all wanted him to make it across safely.
Nobody could have imagined the horror that would take place in the future. The mass murder affected many of us. I still get emotional when I see the view of Manhattan from across the river. She never looks as “long” anymore.
To date, I’ve not gone to the memorial. It’s hard because I can visualize the faces with a good number of the names. I don’t want to have a visual of their last moments. It’s too much.
Today, 15 years later, I still get weepy over this. We simply cannot forget. I’m not going to politicize this. There is no need. I just want to repost what I wrote last year without a change.
Thanks for understanding. My humor will return tomorrow!
Anniversaries are reminders of special days. They may not be great reminders and they may be fantastic reminders.
Today is an anniversary of sorts. It has been 14 years since the catastrophic event of the Twin Towers in New York City.
My then-husband was out of the United States on a business trip.
My oldest son, Jake, had entered into his Freshman year at University of Texas in Austin.
Roman was a Sophomore in high school and Oona was in seventh grade in middle school.
I was home, I was getting dressed and just about to sit at the computer.
Ruby, my Yellow Lab, and Dorothy, my Bassett Hound was at my feet.
The TV was on.
I was not watching the TV, but I heard that a plane crashed into one of the two towers.
My first thought was “Holy shit. I used to work in that building”.
I could not for the life of me, figure out how that could have happened.
Then I thought about how nervous I was working in the WTC to begin with. The elevators drifted from side to side because they worked at such an incredible speed.
The building itself seemed to sway in the winter’s wind.
Then—it happened again and we all knew that something was not right.
The Pentagon exploded.
The plane went down in Pennsylvania.
America, as we know it, changed from an innocent and idealistic child of a country into a geographical and historic grown up. We were violated and we were wounded by extremist hatred.
Videos and images of bodies jumping from the towers, videos of the crashes, videos of a destroyed downtown were constantly aired to keep us informed.
Those images were horrific.
Worse than that, were the videos of the extremists who were living in these United States of America, celebrating these horrific events. Celebrating because they are filled with hatred. Celebrating because they are bigoted against Western society, yet they seemed to enjoy living in this society.
I remember losing people I grew up with. Losing people who lived in my neighborhood in NYC.
I remember one of my former playground moms having a son who was a waiter at “Windows On The World”. A while later his arm was found. He was identified by his tattoo.
His tattooed arm was closure.
Another young neighborhood kid was a fireman who went into the building and never made it out.
One of my cousins, a battalion chief for the NYFD, took the morning off so that his wife could go to the doctor. His entire battalion was killed. My cousin, Patrick, died seven months later.
That day, it seemed that the world was on our side.
That day, it seemed like our entire being as Americans were bound together.
We aren’t though.
We still have hatred and bigotry in our own back yard. We have hatred toward the LBGT community.
Hatred and bigotry still live within the confines of our borders in the form of politicians and “Christian” extremists.
People get pissed off because security measures at airports are too strict and those measures cut into their selfish time.
People get pissed off because, in trying to make our beautiful country a safer place for her citizens, they don’t want stricter gun laws.
People get pissed off because they don’t believe that others should be able to love who they want to love.
When will we learn?
I haven’t forgotten. But I certainly am not yet ready to forgive the evil that still dwells among us.
THIS is the image I chose to remember the anniversary of 9/11 with. The cross is hope. It is of a cross that was found at the site and taken to rest at Good Shepherd Church–my old parish in Inwood. Many parishioners were murdered that day…..
There are no words………….
Hope that one day, we will all be able to accept others as they are and the world will be a better place.
Listen. Hope is great…and I always attach a song. Today, I’m still doing that, but it’s a happy and hopeful one. “High Hopes”—because that is what we all need! XOXOXOXO!
We also need to go back to innocence–just like the kids in the video!
You know..I can be quite the social animal and I love being that way. I enjoy trying to make people happy—and that is because I want to make people happy. It’s just really important to me to try to make things a bit more pleasant. Plus—it’s really, really, important to have a positive outlook. I mean, look at the world around us. There’s so much hate and violence and really unkind people are becoming more famous by the minute!
I want to make the world a better place!
Like “Liberty Enlightening The World”, I want to welcome everyone and make them happy too! But–on a smaller scale. If I keep eating I’ll be wider than Lady Liberty herself!
But there are those times when I just want to take my physical being, turn myself inside out, and zip myself into my soul—I need to visit my invisible spirit so that nobody can see me.
It isn’t that I want to hide. I really don’t want to do that. Sometimes, I just want to be alone.
I’m older now, but ever since I was young, I found that the sandy beach offered such a peaceful and glorious sense of solitude any time of year. An empty beach with the view of protective dunes is a great place to reflect!
Plus, if I’m alone with me, I can listen to my thoughts. I can be the center of the little universe that belongs to me. I can shut everyone and everything out.
Sometimes Bonaparte, my kids and other loved ones just cannot figure out why I close myself off in my own little universe. Shhhhhhh–come closer and I’ll whisper in your ear..”I can’t figure it out either!!!”
It doesn’t mean I don’t love my family or those close to me. Nor does it mean I don’t value my friends.
It also doesn’t mean I need to be alone because I have to go to the bathroom for a while with a newspaper or magazine! (Ohhhh…last nights’ dinner!)
It just means I have this need to work some stuff out on my own.
Solitude can be welcoming and greet me with a gentle hug.
Solitude can warm you even under the coldest of conditions!
I can cry without anyone seeing me.
I can hurt without bothering.
I’m not bringing anyone into my personal drama.
Sometimes my spirit is hurt and needs to heal.
It isn’t a Pity Party that I’m celebrating either.
It’s just that I don’t even know the full reason as to just why I need to be alone.
I’m not lonely either. I’m surrounded by love and wonderful people.
One of the reasons I loved living in a large city was that I could blend in my aloneness.
As crowded as it can seem, being in a large city is actually wonderful for being alone. Millions of people are alone together. Blend.
I could be like vapor and evaporate into the atmosphere of the loners!
It’s true. I could be like cloudy vapor and evaporate–or at best feel like a lone hawk drifting in the skies!
So to my loved ones and family and friends I say, “Please don’t become impatient or angry with me because I’ve closed up for a while.” “Please understand that it’s harder to bring my words and thoughts into the spoken word than to write them!”
Then—after I’ve entered into emotional closet of shutting myself off, I’ll come out when I hear my father’s voice shouting down at me from that big poker game in the heavens…
“Hey”. ” Katie!” ” Whadarya??” ” Some kinda Pineapple for chrissakes?” “Jesus H. Christ get off yer ass and look out the winda” “It’s a beauty-full day”. “Get dressed and enjoy it!” “Ya crazy gallute!”
It’s true. One of my dad’s more creative terms of endearment was to call me..and my siblings “pineapple” when we just weren’t “on”! For some strange reason it worked. Try calling someone a pineapple and their faces will light up. They will smile then laugh!
And I can feel his breath..and that slight tap on my shoulder and I know that I will never fully be alone!
So today, I will end this with a fun song by a very funny Frenchman, Jacques Dutronc. The song: Et Moi, Et Moi, Et Moi…because it’s all about ME!!! XOXOXOXOXO!!!
Oh…and, well–Thank you for letting me be a bit deep today!
Home is a place of extreme comfort and home is the place that you can return to when you are having a bad, bad day.
Alexander was smart! He knew home was the best place to return to after a bad day!
Home is a place of memories. Some memories are not good ones—but, the good memories usually outshine the not-so-good ones.
Home is the place you long to be when you are not feeling well!
Poor Oona! She had such a bad case of the flu–but turning the family room into the sick room makes it just a bit better!
Home is the place where you can be happy.
Ain’t nuthin’ like seeing your kids happy–it gives you a sense of home!
Happy kids equal happy mom!
I lost this house when I got divorced. Before losing it, this house was home.
This was my home before I got divorced. I couldn’t even pass by it for a long, long, long time without getting all weepy!
It was filled with kids, and celebrations and comfort and love. My children spent most of their childhood here. They established great friendships. This was the place they came home to after a long day at school, and after the victories and defeats of their various sports games. It was the toasty place they came back to after a day of fun in the snow! It was where they ate meals and watched TV and slept and got in trouble and were hugged and loved.
Snow play in the back yard!!! After that, hot cocoa and some warm soup!
I even held parties for the neighborhood dogs! Dorothy and Ruby LOVED being the hostesses!
After losing it, my home became just a house to me, but a home to someone else!
This is the first house I lived in. Ozone Park, NY. When I was young, the house was covered in vintage shingles…and once you entered through the front door—the house became a home.
This was the house I lived in until I was six years old. It was, a great home!
My very first Christmas was spent here! Santa was good to me that year!
This is me in front of the home that we lived in when we were in Ozone Park. My mom and sister Sissy are on the stoop. That’s me–looking mighty pissed off. It was most likely because I was no longer the center of attention. Even as a child it was all about me!!!
Oh look! I’m in a much better mood here. Most likely because I’m the best dressed girl in the crowd! My mother had the fashion sense to dress me in a beautiful coat and beret! I love the Mary Jane shoes too! The front stoop was a very social place!
My grandparents and aunt lived on the top floor and we lived on the bottom.
Shiny, waxed hardwood floors with inlay strips sparkled throughout. My sister and I shared a bedroom. We had twin beds covered with chenille spreads and the walls were covered in pink wall paper with cute illustrations of little boys and girls.
I loved my ballerina bedspread!
We didn’t have a basement. We had a cellar. And in this cellar was a coal heater and a coal room. In this cellar, my grandmother had an old wringer washing machine.
The landing on the top of the steps leading up to the back door housed a milk box. And the Dellwood milk man would leave fresh, cold milk in that box.
In really cold weather, the cream would rise to the top of the milk bottles. Kind of like me. I’m the cream that always rises to the top!
I am that old!
It was fun to go upstairs and have a cuppa tea with my grandparents each day.
Nothin’ said home like a cup of tea that my grandmother brewed–and the matching slice of Drake’s pound cake!
This is the place that I came home to after having my eyes operated on, and where I was in quarantine when I had Scarlet Fever. It sucked too, because my parents had to get rid of all my toys due to “germs”! Well, it was not all that sucky because I got new toys!
When I started school, my grandfather would pick me up from the bus stop and walk me across the street to Novotny’s bar. He would have a boiler maker and I would have a “shot” of cola and a bag of Wise potato chips. People called my grandfather “Gov’ner”. I honestly thought he was the Governor of New York City.
New York will always be home for me. I mean, the entire expanse of New York City and Long Island will always be home for me. That’s where I’m from!
THIS is home and no matter where I end up, New York will ALWAYS be my home! I’m in a New York State of mind!
When we moved to Long Island, we moved into this house in Bay Shore. It was home. We did our homework here. We played for hours in the finished basement. We celebrated holidays here. We played in the backyard and the woods next door. And in the woods we would pretend that we were on an imaginary island or in a forest. We never had to worry about safety. Then one day, the woods were cleared to build another house…..a part of our home left us.
This was our first home in Long Island. Ohh…if my mom were alive, she would be very upset to see a pile of stuff in the window! Windows are meant to look out of and see the beautiful view–not to be obstructed!
When I became an adult, I moved back into New York City. I’m far more comfy in the cocoon of a city apartment than in the suburbs.
I’ve lived in apartments in Manhattan…and they were homes within my home of the city I still love!
214 Riverside Drive. My first apartment in NYC. This building was GREAT! It was like a dorm! A place of endless weekend parties!
It was always comforting to return to my apartment after a challenging day on Wall Street, where I worked. Sometimes the ride on the Subway could be filled with delays and other surprises.
But when I returned to my apartment, I could shut the rest of the world out and enjoy the peaceful calm of my little private world.
After the boys were born, downtown Manhattan was just starting to get pricey. So—we moved to the Inwood section of NYC, just above Washington Heights.
This apartment waa s GREAT home!!!! Many, many great memories with the kids when they were younger!
Look to the left. See the windows underneath the windows with the a/c units? That’s my home! These steps, otherwise known as “The City Steps” led from Park Terrace East down to Broadway. Now I know why I was thirty pounds thinner when I lived here! I climbed these steps at least three times a day! Who needs a gym?
Real Estate people now refer to this neighborhood as “Hudson Heights”. Really—what a crock of shit! I guess to pretentious people “Hudson Heights” sounds better than Inwood. I’ll keep calling in Inwood because that is where my home was!
Uh oh! Was Roman predicting the future when he was playing in this box as a house? Was he trying to tell me that I would eventually lose a home? Ouch!
When I’m in Paris, Bonaparte’s Aunt Daniele’s apartment is my home. And when we’ve been out and about all day, we’ll say “Let’s go back home”—and we mean to the apartment. It’s warm. It’s cozy. It is my Paris home away from home.
My Parisian home away from home! Thanks to Bonaparte’s aunt, Daniele, she’s always made me feel this IS my second home!
When we are in Theoule-sur-Mer, this is the terrace that is part of our vacation home. We’ve rented the same place for many years. For two weeks out of the year, this is “home”!
This is our two-week-a-year home. And it becomes more comfortable and familiar with each new year! It’s definitely got a home vibe!
These days I live in the Philadelphia suburbs. This area will never, ever be home to me. I don’t have that same warm and fuzzy feeling living here. I don’t have that “hometown” feeling….but…
When I open the door to the house that Bonaparte and I own in these suburbs, the house becomes home.
This is the entryway to the house we’ve made a home! Oops! time for me to get a new doormat. That one is FILTHY! Remind me to have Bonaparte take that disgusting pink towel off that hook. He insists on wiping Chippy’s paws with it. Can’t he just move it into one of those baskets??????
This is a home that Bonaparte and I have worked hard to build. It is our home.
A comfy family room adds to the coziness of home!
It’s the place of new Christmas traditions!
I got a lot of banister to decorate these days! Oh…I’m getting dizzy!
Part of my new tradition is decorating the home with pillows….
…lots of pillows. That one pillow may say “eat, drink and be merry”, but if you spill that drink on my white slip cover, merry may be leaving!
When the kids come to visit—it becomes their home too.
You know why?
Because home is where the heart is.
Doesn’t matter where you live. If your heart isn’t with you–it’s just not home!
You can live in a box, or a mansion or a high-rise or a teepee or a tent or a boat—and if your heart is there—it’s your home!
This is NOT my home. It WAS the home of Madame de Maintenon. She was married to Louis XIV. She turned THIS little chateau into quite the home, I might add!
Home is the best place! Here’s Dusty Springfield with Burt Bacharach to remind you that “A House Is Not a Home”! XOXOXOXOXOXOOOO!
