I finally got an opportunity to take one more thing off of my Bucket List this week. Denn and I were in Buffalo so we decided to grab lunch at the famous Frank and Theresa's Anchor Bar. Believe it or not, I have never been to this famous place. So, I got my first test at their famous Buffalo wings, created for the very first time in their kitchen by mom, Theresa. It seems she was ready to toss some chicken wings into the soup pot when her son came in with a few friends and asked if she had anything different that she could cook up quickly. She looked at the wings, looked at the frier, popped them in till crispy, pulled them out and smothered them with hot sauce and her secret ingredients. She added a few celery sticks and blue cheese dressing to the plate and called it close. The rest, my friends, is history. There probably isn't a place in this world that you can't get some form of chicken wings. And to think the craze started in my own home town! Gawly!!!! So, here's me taking one from Theresa's (?) plate.

What was fun for me was to look around the walls and identify many famous/world famous people whose photos line them. I asked the waitress if they were all fed at the Anchor Bar and she said yes. I have my doubts, though, because there was a huge painting of Marco Polo mixed in with the rest of the photos, and I honestly don't think he was a customer. But, there was a huge blown up picture of Buffalo's own Tim Russert on the cover of Buffalo Magazine, a magazine I wrote for extensively while it was published in Buffalo. Very cool!

Tomorrow I'll head out early to visit with a dear gal pal who is vacationing in the area.  We'll eat lunch and catch up on things happening in our lives.  We'll laugh about the time she froze corn with me in my kitchen, while tediously cutting the corn off the cobs and grumbling about the amount of work it took.  She kept asking, "are we having fun yet?" Covered with corn kernels and surrounded by a mountain of bowls, cobs, husks, and boiling pots, we both laughed.  

I like her a whole lot even though we are very different souls.  She's no-nonsense, painfully direct, pragmatic, impatient, and unemotional (at least on the surface.)  She married well and has never had to work a day in her married life, has one son and several step-children, grandchildren she adores, and leads a charmed life with her very handsome, ambitious, and successful husband ... until now ... 

A little over a year ago, her almost perfect, Hollywood handsome, and physically fit husband was showing signs of Alzheimer's. Recently, he has been formally diagnosed.  He is in his early to mid seventies, finally enjoying retirement from the successful business he created, has positioned them to live in a beautiful, new home that they built themselves where they can do all of the things they love ... and today occupies himself with washing his hands, shaving, and sleeping.  They have a pool he must enjoy only with supervision, his boat and gear sits idle or is used by other family members, and his wife, my friend, can no longer leave him unsupervised for even a trip to the local grocery store.

Family members are providing respite relief for her so she can fly here and check out for a week in a world she enjoys.  A truly bitter-sweet time for her, I'm sure.

  

As I consider her circumstances and look at the calendar to confirm the date for our visit, I realize that one year ago my nephew's wife, aged 52, died of lung cancer.  They had fourteen months between diagnosis and her death for them to try to come to terms with her illness and make as many memories as possible for their family.  My friend and her husband probably had the same amount of time to live fairly normal lives and prepare for the inevitable.  Time ... so precious, so taken for granted until the sands in the hourglass run at breakneck speed before our eyes.  It waits for no one and it cautions us to use it wisely.  So, when someone asks, "are we having fun yet?" one can only hope that the answer would always be "yes."  It is up to each one of us to make it so. 

   

A Remembering Ritual

It's 2:50 in the afternoon.  The alarm on my cell phone just reminded me of the time, which is a daily ritual. The picture on the screen of my cell is that of my sweet and funny mom who departed her earthly bonds at 2:50 on a sunny afternoon in May.  Some folks think I'm a little off kilter, while others think it's very sweet.  It's not like I need a reminder to remember this bright light of my life, but it's nice to have a little tap on my shoulder every afternoon to nudge me to take a minute and remember her.  Now, it's not just that I think fun thoughts of her, but in bringing her to mind,  I re-member her back into this world.  I join her back with all of those who loved her.  She comes back into the circle, if only for a moment.  I only hope I'm not disrupting a favorite activity she might be involved in when I call her back every afternoon!
You know, it's just so easy to let one day run into the next without giving specific thought to those we no longer see or have an earthly connection to.  I take great solace in knowing that at 2:50 every single day, I welcome mom back into my life in a very tangible way.  Is there someone you'd like to keep closer to you?  Try my little trick and see if it works as well for you.

Nature's Gifts

It's August - a typically hot, humid Western New York summer day.  Luscious!  That is, as long as I can retreat indoors from being on deck cooking to a turn while delighting in my flowers.

Even with all the political fracas on TV and other airwaves, I find myself calming down and forgetting the nonsense and fear-mongering that has been a constant for the last many weeks.  I'll save my political opinions for another blog site, should I decide to create one.

Meanwhile, I'd like to introduce you to a steady visitor to the blooms on my deck.  She is a hummingbird moth bumble bee, according to my research thus far.  If you are interested in what she looks like, take a gander at this u-tube video that someone was lucky enough to film.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdyape_1Js8

Every time I see her, I have my camera indoors and hate to leave because she seldom stays very long.  If you cannot view the link I've attached, just Google her and you should find information.  To me, she looks like a flying, miniature, hairy lobster!  Most intriguing.  Loves my phlox, roses, and petunias.

Meanwhile, life is good on the hill.  The rains have come and nourished the plants and trees.  Lawns have quite a recovery ahead of them, but they always come back.

I worry most about the giant maple that sits in front of my home, graciously offering welcome shade in the driest conditions, and shelter for the birds and climbing wildlife.  Denn said he thought it was great that we own such a magnificent tree.  I'm not convinced we own her.  I believe that this majestic maple, along with all of life's gifts, is on loan to us and it is up to us to nurture and protect her for as long as we live with her.  This home is about 100 years old, so who knows how old she is.  It would take quite a few of us with joined hands to circle her perimeter.  She is taller than my two story home and almost as wide across in full leaf.

I'd love to tap her in spring, but that would mean boiling her sap down in my kitchen, 24 hours a day until it becomes syrup.  Now, there's a very funny story in my life about doing exactly that, and I promise I will tell you shortly, after I discuss it with my son who ends up being the spotlighted character of the very funny (well, to all of us except him!) episode.  Do come back and look for it.

Meanwhile, it's always a pleasure knowing that my little missives might bring a smile to your face, curiosity to your mind, or seeds for growth to your spirit.  Later......