Author: Rene

That’s the way you spell “success.”

It was a great Super Bowl game. Since most of the party attendees had no vested interest in the teams, we cheered for good plays and excellent strategies. We ate amazing appetizers provided by all. We paid little attention to the ads, and though we tried to appreciate the half-time entertainment, we all enjoyed chatting and catching up with friends we hadn’t seen for weeks or more.

The Turkish chicken wings were a hit. My husband successfully adapted the recipe and I am sure we will have many iterations going forward.

I hear the pitter patter of carpet installers. On to the next successful venture!

What would you see out of your window while chatting with your sis?

My go-to spot while confabulating with my sister is the soon-to-be-painted room where I sit on the bench overlooking the street. As I did so last evening, an unknown red car came up our driveway and must have turned around, leaving the opposite way it came. I witnessed the departure while speaking to my riveted-with-the-details sister. We live on a dead end.

Someone was lost. My husband drove out to rescue the driver, an older woman, who obviously was in the wrong ‘hood. It’s happened before. The sad part of this tale?

We apparently have nothing better to do on a Friday evening.

Who had two years plus of a pandemic period to paint a room? Who waited until two days before a carpet install to actually achieve said goal?

As I was moving that boatload of music I pondered. “Shouldn’t I repaint this room before new carpet is installed rather than after?” At least I had the intelligence to answer, “yes.” This should be fun as I don’t have the paint, and really, I’d rather have more time.

Apparently I had to travel to a foreign country and purchase a hat to be inspired. I’m going with a 50’s throwback pink tone. And when I play the piano after it’s reinstalled I shall wear my pink hat. I think the theme for this year should have been “pink.” Then we could have celebrated by attending a Pink concert.

I guess we still can!

The site was experiencing turmoil and I almost couldn’t post this amazing revelation – I have way too much music in my paper library.

Beginning the move of music books and papers from my piano room, I am sifting through years of acquired tastes: Old sheet music from the 70’s, music from the 40’s and 50’s which my mother bought because she wanted those tunes, church accompaniment books, antique pieces my father got at auctions in the bottom of boxes no one wanted, musical scores from Broadway plays, old voice lesson pieces, Christmas music for every instrument including sing-along books, the “Tipsy Trio” binders. I’m going to be ruthless and maybe even organize it in the process.

The theme for this actually popped into my head yesterday at 6:30 am. I awoke singing, “Over hill, over dale, as we hit the dusty trail and those caissons go rolling along.” Seriously? That in my head? I knew it was merely inspiration because the first book I opened to see if I should keep it was “Tom Glazer’s Treasury of Folk Songs.” And which song did the book open to? The Caisson Song. I am not kidding.

Some of my music will be rollin’ along.

It’s nice to have a day or two of nothing. And then – wham! It all happens at once. Of course, these are first world problems.

We returned home to a dead car battery. Fixed yesterday. (A dead watch battery was fixed, also, but that doesn’t really count.) The carpet installers called and will be arriving Monday after the Super Bowl party. We might be asking guests to help us move furniture as they leave. The piano movers have to come this weekend to do their job first, so that’s scheduled, too. A truck with my husband’s mother’s furniture will be arriving this afternoon and will have to be stored somewhere. It just sounds like a lot of manual labor will be involved from here on out.

If you’re planning on visiting us, please come the following weekend when we will be putting everything back in its place. We could use your help.

This is my new writing style.

When my husband and I meet reluctantly at 3:30 am for coffee and early morning reading, we don our new chapeaux and get to work. Half the time I find myself closing my eyes and drifting off. I was hoping the hat would inspire, but alas, my thoughts and heart are with the people of Turkey and Syria. Perhaps this tragedy will remind them of their commonalities and brotherhood, forged so long ago.

I’m wearing my hat in honor of them and to keep me warm before the thermostat kicks in at a later time. Just relishing the transition and holding on to the memories.

Where is my morning selection of olives, dried fruits and nuts, peeled and sliced oranges, pastries and desserts? Fresh squeezed pomegranate juice? My chauffeur? My ultra-clean vehicle attended to every time we stopped for a break?

It’s always a woozy feeling returning to the time change as you sort your clothing and glance at the clock every ten minutes, wondering when you can finally go to sleep. Laundry will be a lengthier process as my husband’s luggage stayed an extra two days in Germany on a sightseeing adventure of its own. It’s a good thing he bought those air tags so he could track the bags on their journey. Gave him something to do as he counted the hours to an early bed time.

We have a phrase here for when we return to the way it was. “All of Me,” with Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin?

We are “back in the bowl.”

Yesterday we drove through a Turkish blizzard (teeny compared to ours) and were diverted from the main highway twice due to accidents. (Snowplows could have been helpful?) We stopped at a lovely roadside “driver reviver” (My Aussie accent is kicking in) and ate lunch by a crackling fire before heading into the city.

While there we did a loop in the attached grocery before boarding our chariot. I was waving to my mate to let him know I was heading out to brave the flakes in case he couldn’t find me. He was oblivious. Fortunately the shopkeeper paid attention to me and informed him, “Your werf,” with finger pointing.

The werf is heading out and waving farewell to Turkey. Now that I am perfectly synced with this time zone and have my daily prayers in line with the muezzin-in-the-minaret, I will boldly face the readjustment period to MST. Güle güle.

Oh, so many things! Sign language is still alive and well and interpretations are always creative.

It’s near the end of the tour and I find myself looking at many things differently. This local display was fun. I want to confirm that my children will not be receiving this item and neither will other friends and family. As amazing as this product sounds, it will be safe with the residents of Turkey.

Though it has only been two weeks I can finally say “good morning” and “thank you” in Turkish. That’s one word a week! Happily my sign language skills have improved. And what doesn’t get translated properly gets a good laugh from both parties.

Farewell. Adios. Adieu. Arrivederci. Wiedersehen. Güle güle. Three words! Enjoy your Friday. It’s looking fabulous!

It occurred to me as I typed it, this phrase is irrelevant these days. Plugged in? It doesn’t seem to matter where we go – cell phones are entertainment for all.

Bored shopkeepers or waiters will be on the phone – gaming, I assume. Friends on the bus will be on the phone – editing photos. We aren’t really “getting away from it all” as we can send and receive texts, FaceTime, and of course, communicate by email. This gentleman was having his morning tea fully absorbed with his device. (Isn’t this guy great? I bought a hat like his, but of course, it’s pink!)

Even the fabulous rock house we visited has Wi-Fi and a lovely television. This home from the third or fourth century is fully modernized electronically, and the inhabitants shared their story of life in this fairy chimney abode. I could stand erect in the “family and dining room,” but my husband could not. We won’t be considering this real estate market.

The blending of old and new, recycling at its best, and friendly fellow passengers in time. Travel tribute.