Author: Rene

It’s been a whirlwind of travel in the last 24 hours for our household! First, we were in Maui last night with my pineapple tablecloth. That was a short visit as someone spilled a beverage when the brief tornadic activity hit. So, we had to fly to Italy. That tablecloth survived the elements.

Thankfully we had stopped off in Alaska for salmon, and friends were able to hit Californian and Argentinian vineyards before arriving. A foray to the Midwest brought us delicious corn-on-the-cob. We flew to France for dessert, making it home in time to rest up for breakfast at Katz’s in New York City. Mmmm. Bagels with lox and cream cheese. It was nice to stroll around Central Park after that with my daughter.

The afternoon brought a tour of Busch Gardens and some inspiration for my own habitat. It is just so lush and wet here, right? Everything will grow just fine. I then flitted over to London and the Camden Markets where I bartered for a new winter coat. Luckily, they had one in the same olive green color as the last coat I managed to destroy.

It was quite the adventurous day. And to top off the travels, I threw away a pair of underwear for old time’s sake.

Driving home from Mass this song popped into my head on this beautiful Father’s Day. Now, Bobby Sherman was my guy, not Eddie Fisher. Apparently somewhere along the way my sister and I learned this tune because we would regale my father with a dramatic rendition. I learned it was originally a German song, “O Mein Papa.” Just thought I’d give you another chuckle as you recall the wonderful gifts your fathers brought to your lives.

If you want to hear the song, just google it and listen to Eddie Fisher sing it. Apparently you can’t copy this wonderful work, but rather must purchase it. Enjoy your day, Papas everywhere.

Now, sentimentality is not too strong on my end, but I found that yesterday’s ramblings about patterns made me think of my files. I have three boxes of sewing patterns. Some of the patterns aren’t even mine, they were just rescued from a certain fate because I liked them: A-line dresses, jumpsuits, bell-bottomed pants (mine), fringe jackets, caftans, pajamas. It was like a little fashion history lesson rummaging through there.

Then I found these “within-the-last-20-years” numbers. Apologies to my daughter.

Yes, I made the blue coat with the pink floral buttons. Apparently that chapeaux design was not adequate though, as I had to buy a hat pattern to make the cute little business on the right. I’m certain she wore the hat at least once?

Thankfully, this was all before she could argue about her clothing options – or should I say – “costume” choices?

Rows and rows of beautiful selections, a fabulous world of opportunity! I loved the fabric store. Buttons, 7” zippers in every color, the perfect shade of thread for your needs, interfacing for the collars, and of course, a new pattern!

Back in the day, my mom would take us to the city clothes shopping, and by that I mean, the fabric store. It became the highlight because it meant a new wardrobe! We would spend hours in there, my sister and I sharing a pattern and choosing our fabrics with parental approval. The best patterns were the ones with at least five different garments you could manufacture from the tissue paper pieces. Often my sibling and I sported the same style in different colors.

My mother was a masterful seamstress and knew how to glean every inch of useable fabric from the yardage. I don’t know if we ever bought the full amount required on the pattern because we knew there was always waste. Or better yet, we knew how to properly place the pieces to utilize the fabric. It’s why we’re all good at puzzles in my family, I swear!

Now, as Earl Pickles in our comic knows, the fabric store is sometimes best avoided. I can imagine him having to sit at the pattern counter with his wife Opal for hours, waiting for her to peruse and choose. It’s akin to when I would fall for the line, “I’ll only be a minute,” when my husband went to Best Buy. I spent enough time in those recliners watching television waiting for my spouse to make his careful selections with all of the other toys in there for distraction. Earl was just hoping the store was closed and he wouldn’t have to go in. He was never choosing to go there of his own accord, for heaven’s sake!

So there you go, America. That is the proper explanation of “Pickles” for those of you contemplating what it meant. Now you have it down pat.

Remember reading the cereal box? It never changed, but you’d read and reread it until it was empty. The best part? The plastic 45 records you could cut out from the box and play on your little turntable. That’s how I got my Bobby Sherman copy of “Seattle!”

I’m guessing we pestered our mother to buy a cereal based on the prize, not the flavor, although she wasn’t much for the sugary breakfast choices. There were all sorts of joys to be found with a box. You could cut out games and trading cards from the cardboard, or find a cool toy like a decoder ring, car, plastic doohickey. Alpha Bits! An attempt to emphasize spelling with the gadgets.

Now, you get a barcode to scan for a phone app. On the bright side, it’s keeping plastic out of the landfill. I wonder if it’s providing musical inspiration, too?

Peace, love and Bobby Sherman.

Of course, you can’t enjoy lunch in the mountains, on the deck of your friend’s house, without the umbrella properly positioned. Furthermore, when your friend remembers that the umbrella needs bolstering – all MacGyver skills are called into play.

And just how many MacGyvers does it take to prepare the luncheon site? Three. One to climb the step stool and apply the chip clip, one to hold the person on the step stool so she doesn’t topple over the deck, and one to pass the bungee cord and begin a novena for the safety of the other two.

This was not our finest hour. However, it did work. Lunch was observed in proper fashion.

My inbox often contains tempting travel ads from Melia` Resorts. When I get this particular mailing, I’m reminded of the time I went to Greece with my sister and we signed up for their newsletter. (We were enjoying the rooftop amenities and were easily swayed to join.) I get a kick out of seeing the alluring travel packages, even if I can’t go. Today, I’m just traveling in my mind – and to the hills. This cuteness comes from “Pabs,” and aptly describes the year for all of us.

The neighbors installed an above-ground pool yesterday after replacing their deck. Across the street the dad erected a zip line for his kids, as well as a huge water slide. Other neighbors are incorporating a bar into their garage – a hang out for the ‘hood. Along the road to our house two homes were just painted in the past month and a beautiful corner garden planted. The lady with 1,000 gnomes added more fixtures to her landscaping. There is a lot happening with people being sequestered at home.

And you thought we were building a deck! It turns out we constructed an Athenian temple.

You have participated in the experiment of “Heyrenejtoday.com” for one entire year! This endeavor could not be possible without your cooperation. Actually, there were three weeks without internet in there, so we could say that you have three more weeks to tough it out.

When I first began, I wondered how I could possibly have enough inanity to consume an entire year’s worth of observations. I figured I wouldn’t be writing daily, just frequently. Who knew I had this much hot air?

My other experiment was to write a poem a day. I did miss a few, but mostly got it done. Now I seek another feature once my Haiku library is emptied. Glassware comes to mind.

Furthermore, I assumed I would be traveling and able to write about the world from that perspective. As you know, travels have been rather limited to my backyard, books, grocery and hardware stores, as well as my somewhat quirky imagination.

So, in light of the fact that I do have enough hot air available to me, I renewed my domain and will continue to move forward with the famous words of inspiration from the Lindsay Holy Family class of 1955: Onward ever, ceasing never.

In between finishing the deck surface yesterday, (insert the “Hallelujah Chorus”) and visiting a friend recovering from surgery, I managed to weed the yard and plant two perennial hopefuls up for the challenge of surviving my gardening skills. Then my son asked, “Can I help you do anything, Mom?” I responded.

Approximately four hours later we had the out-of-control Russian Sage uprooted, as well as some ugly grasses that just wouldn’t cooperate in my landscaping scheme. However, the sage presented my son with the opportunity to create smudge sticks. Did you know we could sell them for $6.95 each? I had enough to provide for a small country! They are advertised as “perfect for banishing negativity.” However, the online sticks have been positively charged under a full moon. We were off by a week.

I enjoyed reading the benefits of using a smudge stick in smudging. (aka cleansing the negativity from your space.). “Cleansing is a wonderful thing to do when moving into a new home, after an argument, after illness, if you suspect a haunting, or just to revitalize your space. Also makes a great housewarming gift.”

I’m thinking I should replant the stuff and realize a profit.