Author: Rene

Yesterday we toured the fortress and lighthouse on the most southwestern edge of Europe, as they say here, “the end of the world.” I have felt more desolate in other lands, but that’s probably what was thought in the early navigational world of exploration. Anyway, we drove up to the huge site (over 5,000 steps walking its perimeter) and parked right in front with about five other cars and four motorcycles. Then we saw the throngs of visitors walking up from the parking lots. We remained unmoved.

There was room to park – no signs saying we couldn’t? Additionally, we parked in the first “lighthouse” spot, and immediately in front of the steps leading into our hotel room. We also drove along the pier, bothered by none. These are all benefits of traveling in the off season, as well as being ignorant. They are also bold moves based on the first hotelier who told us, “just drive the wrong way on the one way and you’ll get that first spot on the end of the road. If the police stop you, speak English.”

We usually find out about ignorance four months later, when foreign governments send their tickets for traveling in improper zones, or parking where we shouldn’t. This is clearly the origination of the phrase, “Time will tell.”

Off we go to explore other new worlds and to see what time will tell!

Nights of sleep deprivation can assist you when traveling great distances! I am still able to maintain a fairly sleepless night, even in a foreign country, as well as need a nap in the middle of the day. Even the handsome seminarian giving his talk at the end of Mass in Portuguese couldn’t bring me to sleep. (And it was a rather lengthy chat, but hey, I knew right away what he was saying!) “Rambo” on the television didn’t do it either. I had never seen this incredible icon of filmmaking, so perhaps it was just too interesting to lull me into uninterrupted dreamland? Whatever the reason, I remain groggy, though sun-drenched this morning.

My other achievement is to drop my first article of clothing in the first hotel. I even hand-stitched the little tear I had near a seam pre-travel. However, I discovered a new opening in my trusty linen shirt, so it is now going to become a Portuguese cleaning cloth rather than an American dust rag.

As the sun shines brightly while you delve into REM mode, I vow to give the local cuisine a chance tomorrow. Like sleep patterns, my dining schedule needs some adjustment!

Wonder what Lisbon is like? Stay tuned.

Wednesdays are my “Full-Tilt-Grandma” days. Here is our loosely based day in brief:

1. Arrival and departure of the maternal parent
2. reacquaintance with the floor exercises
3. nap
4. “Tummy Time”
5. bottle
6. ”boingy” thing until boredom
7. piano lessons – as they occur in the same room with “boingy” thing (she is a prodigy, of course)
8. nap
9. ”Big Girl” – she sits in the pink chair and tries to eat the attached toys while Grandma cleans up the kitchen and folds laundry
10. bottle
11. weather permitting – stroll or shopping with Aunt “Pann” (never to early to learn to spot a bargain!)
12. begin again with any one of the previous activities until paternal or maternal influence arrives

Yes, she has me trained, and I love it.

Who has this kind of time? Maybe someone sitting on a long boring airplane trip? I’ll see what I can come up with!. Thanks for the inspiration, “Pabs!”

Yesterday, with the lovely 70 degree weather, I hung ten strands of Christmas lights, swept out the garage, chopped and pruned plants, and then stared at the mums. I was exhausted. I suddenly recalled my sister’s thoughtful meme, sent last week. I almost got the spray paint and went for it, but that would have required a trip to the basement. So, I just considered this option.

Passing along useful gardening tips as we saunter towards winter.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for the zit I received Sunday morning, prominently placed on my cheek before our one-and-only professional family photo event. I haven’t had a zit in years. I only know you meant for me to remember how “youthful” I really am.

Thank you, additionally for concealer, which did a fairly decent job of hiding the blemish.

Thank you for blessing me with a humble experience, though I respectfully disagree with the opportunity I seized upon to mess up the opening song at Mass. It was a pretty cringe-worthy error, heard by all in attendance, as I was the cantor.

Thank you, though, for the fact that the Broncos were playing and Mass was thinner than usual.

For these and all my blessings, I am grateful.

Heyrenej

Yes, this is my new shag. I had a little facial work done, too. Thanks, “Ponna,” for taking the photo and confirming that I am “hip.”

Happy Saturday!

I’m not referring to the titanium replacements I sport, but rather my “new” hair style.

While fending off squirrels, I did manage to express the boredom I had with my hair style on Monday. My stylist told me the young girls were now asking for this new cut. It’s called “the shag.” She and I laughed, because we were both of the shag era, emulating Farrah Fawcett or the shorter style. So I said, “What the heck. Go for it!”

I would post a photo, but really, I’m still trying to discern how it’s different from what I had.

Perhaps I’ve just been hip and with-it since Junior High? No need to comment, friends or family.

Add a load of laundry prior to the package delivery at 7:30 a.m. (Grandchild). When the washing is done, initiate drying. Turn on the weather channel. Child will be so bored, she will fall asleep easily for two hours. Nothing exciting is happening here.

End of day – squelch all excitement that may be happening for the afternoon nap. Run the dishwasher. Sorry, “Pois,” my friend who stopped by. This child doesn’t want to miss a thing!

Whose grandchild is she?