Author: mc4119

9/17/22 Finally France

We’re in France. Successful trip on the Eurostar (chunnel) this morning, car service out to Trouville sur Mer. Checked into the Hotel Flaubert mid afternoon. Small hotel with charm. This is going to sound silly, but the keys are the big clunkers that you leave behind at the desk when you go out, and the room numbers are no more than 2 digits. Not sure what the word is, not homey, maybe it is charming? Anyway I like it!

View from our juliet balcony

Dropped our bags, went in search of mussels for Joe immediately.

Mussels and a quaff of beer

Very quickly we realized that Trouville is a fabulous country cousin of Paris or other large French cities, meaning no parler English. Madame Amiry would be proud of me, I am navigating us through everything from pickled peppers to music playlists. Entertaining to say the least.

Again today we wandered and watched. This is a coastal town, our hotel is right on the beach strand. We were in jackets, others had on jackets and hats, others had on bathing suits, others left their bathing tops at home. Like any beach town, there is that interesting juxtaposition of the locals and the tourists, but all seemed united in the quest for a glass of wine or beer with lunch. And to that end I observed my spirit animals; an older couple eating a late lunch that included a bottle of wine and an ice cream sundae each. Vive la France!

Tonight we wandered for a late dinner and settled on a small cafe, Tivoli something. We eschewed the snobby cafe that had no time for our language bumbling (and I cannot blame them, we were bumbling) and wandered into a small place that looked welcoming. Joe had an amazing Dover sole and I had my dream dinner, glass of wine, good bread, and a selection of 3 milder cheeses. Lovely.

3 cheeses and a glass of wine, mais ou!!

Tomorrow we switch gears and get going with the cycling tour. We are prepared to fake it, not make it, and have a grand time.

Talk soon.

Hope to see you along the way.

9/16/22 – Bonjour France… not so fast

Thursday night, 9/15/22 – Yippeee headed off to France to cycle for 5 days. Oh wait, what, no, say it ain’t so, flight cancelled, notification is via text, next available flight is Sunday night. We say shit, the French say merde.

It is now Saturday morning, 9/17, and we’re waiting for the Eurostar train to leave London and head to Paris. As is so true in so many travel snafu, what was SO dramatic, immeasurably awful at the moment, is now in the rear view mirror, and replaced with a fun story and unexpected experiences. In short, we bulldogged American Airlines until they found us something, that something was a flight to London. We booked the Eurostar (chunnel) from St Pancras Stn. in London to Gare du Nord in Paris. And then we splurged on a car service from Gare du Nord out to the coast. Did I mention there is a air traffic controller strike in Paris? A queen’s funeral in London? Planes, trains, automobiles at a premium. Oh and it’s 48 degrees in London and I seemed to think I’d be Fifi LaRoo and packed sundresses. But I digress.

We arrived in London Friday AM, still pretty unsettled as the plan to get to France was iffy and hopeful, but we were “stuck” in London for the day night. (See what I mean, how can you say stuck in London and not realize life ain’t so bad.) We found a hotel, dumped our bags, and started walking. Crisp, but clear and sunny, and all the world was also out walking. Due to the Queen’s funeral, London is closed on Monday and it seemed like many made a 3 day weekend into 4 days. Our hotel was in the area of St Pancras station and we walked south(?) towards Westminster to see all the action. The walk did not disappoint. The architecture alone is so fun, but throw in the people watching.. fantastic. Within many blocks of Westminster the crowds were crazy, and everyone was a variation of a tourist. An unusual energy that even locals told us was unique. It really was such a cool day. Lunch, was classic fish and chips. Delicious!

We finished the day out with a fun cocktail and conversation with a bartender from Budapest, and dinner with a waiter who was half Ethiopian, half Italian, who loves Scotch and insisted we close out the meal with an Amaro. I mean why not, it is a classic digestif.

Pictures to follow, talk soon.

Hope to see you along the way.

5/19/22 – Pulled Out / Put Away

No, not a sexual exploit to detail, far more mundane. It’s mid May, time to fold up and put away the sweaters and pull out the summer duds.

As I’ve acknowledged on more than one occasion, I’m a fan of anthropomorphism. No need to reach for your Merriam-Webster if you’re not familiar; its the attribution of human characteristics or behavior to a god, animal, or object. In my case it occurs primarily with animals (though its almost an insult to animals) and objects. Gods and me wave to one another periodically but that’s about it. So mostly objects.

During the bi-annual pull out and put away, there’s a lot of “anthropomorphing” going on. I bid adieu to the cold weather clothes, maybe say a small prayer (okay okay summon them there Gods) that we are both around in October to greet one another. There is a thank you for their service, apologies to any of them who did not get a good rotation, a promise for a re-look next season. And with that a crisp tight fold and into the put away bin they go.

Full disclosure, some do not make the journey. To those loyal friends there is a remembrance of the wear times, or possibly a recollection of opportunities missed, due to shape, size, or worst – bad positioning in the closet.

If we’re going Donny and Marie, the put away is the “twilight side of the hill” portion of the song.

And then there is Marie’s “morning side of the mountain”. As a summer gal, one who loves the morning, and would rather sweat than shiver, this is a happy time. 5 possibly 6 months are on the horizon – opportunities to bond with shorts and sundresses abound, but…

The conversation begins, hola cute top, is this the summer I lose the pudge and do you justice? Or maybe lose the inhibitions and just say fuck it, your style will carry us both. To relegate you to the back of the closet is just stupid.

And like the friends that don’t make the journey to the put away, some end their journey on the initial pull out. They don’t actually make it to the closet. Instead they go on to the home of slimmer, younger, sometimes braver, sometimes equally zany body via donation. And some are weary, they ask to be released of further service, no more bodies, but maybe hang around for a bit as a cotton wash cloth. As much as possible I try to accommodate

Whether a pull out or a put away, the process involves hope. Hope for what is immediately possible, hope for forward looking events. Hope can’t cure all, but it ain’t bad in your arsenal.

Lastly, this year, we had a rare occurrence, a find during the put away. Mr. Purple Smithwick had been pining for months for Mrs. Smithwick. He knew she had not left on her own accord, something nefarious had happened, but he too held out hope for her return. And there in the folds of a flannel sheet being readied for the put away, the Mrs. was discovered.

Mrs Smithwick

And for a moment, all was right in the land of Pull Out and Put Away.

Talk soon

Hope to see you along the way

4/2/22 – Day Late

What an auspicious start to my goal of being more intentional, and sticking to a plan. Good God Gertie… I’m already a day late for ‘starting April 1, I’m going to…’

But I’m here now and writing it down. Within these next 4-5 months I’m going to:

  • Read more / tv less
  • Embrace Spring and be outside
  • Less junk / more single source food
  • If my feet will allow me, run a triathlon
  • Re-engage with my Spanish tapes
  • Write… everyday… something
  • And for pete’s sake, learn more about this blog I pay for!!

Nov 1 2021 – yeehaw yippee ki-yeah, survived hot yoga

As promised, my report on hot yoga.

Loved the heat, loved the teacher. But yoga is still a bridge too far for me. Full transparency, much of that bridge is my own drama. Blah blah, have the wrong clothes, have the wrong look, have the inability to understand the zen. And what is not bs drama, is aptitude – good god gertie I have the flexibility of wood, and zero ability to understand directions on the fly.

In the other classes I can camouflage most of my spaz; in that quiet little sweaty yoga room, not so much. Even my mat was squeechy and squeaky.

Wait wait, back up, start from the beginning. I walk into “the studio” clanking weights, music, gym sounds fade away – quieter chatter rules, and by my tally everyone is 5′ 9″, 119lbs, and lithe. Not even a little bit true, but I’ve had years of practice with this flawed system of observation. So me and my garage oil mat I mean yoga mat look to escape to the back of the class – a trick known by all wishing to escape notice. Well damn it, the front becomes the back sometimes in yoga land. Strike One.

Strike Two – I could not hear, no no not the instructor’s fault, actual ear mechanics – almost fully deaf now in one ear and not great in the other – so even if I could put one hand behind, flip into a side plank and come out a crocodile on the other side, I could not hear her direction. Holy fuck I think she was saying dragonfly not crocodile…

Strike Three – Disruptive me. We all pay the gym fees, we all have a right to the classes, but do I want to be the jackwagon spaz disrupting the class? As mentioned, very quickly there was a lot of squeaky mat happening, and everyone facing one way, and me facing the other way chasing that damn elusive crocodile pose. But how do you leave a yoga class and not be disruptive?

Lovely teacher to the rescue – whatever she sensed, she nipped it in the bud. She came over, and I whispered (or at least I hope I did), this is a train wreck I’m going to grab my map and go.

And she said, No. No, this is your time, do something, find something in the pose or the directions that you can do, and do it. And so I did. And I tip my hat to that wonderful professional. We all start somewhere and even if yoga does not become my thing, it was an hour that I appreciated and just “did something” and I would have found an out if she had not come to my rescue.

Side note funny, walked out with a lady who said, “that’s a one and done for me” – and when I asked why, said I loved it in spite of my “limitations” – she said “too hot”. I laughed, we’re all batshit crazy am I right?

To quote the old ’60’s phrase, “Keep On Keeping On” and I hope to see you along the way.

10-29-21 Real Girl Fitness Quest

Full disclosure my friend Susan coined that title phrase, and its apt, and she said it was “stealable”, so voila.

It came about as I was previewing today’s class selection at my fabulous local gym. This real girl is slowly trying all the classes at the gym.. well the free ones at least, hahaha. Making myself step out of my comfort zone of long time runner / swimmer who gobbles cardio with abandon, time to work on the whole body.

Rather than lament the aging storyline, the woulda coulda shoulda, today is today. And who knew those ab muscles made you more stable?? (lots of experts). Apparently if you engage them, core muscles punctuate stability and balance – a couple of nice friends to have right? Cracked ribs, broken collarbone (2x) fully detail how I have not engaged those core muscles when running turned into tripping. And in each instance, there has been time to form the thought ‘shit this is going to hurt’, but missing was, ‘you hooo little core can you help me not hit the pavement’. Those core muscles are sticklers for the love connection, you gotta pay attention to them, for them to pay attention to you!

Which brings me back to the gym. So many classes, so many options to love up on my core.

Have steered clear of gyms for so many years; a) my chosen sport running can be done anywhere and a treadmill inside is this side of hell, 2) the age old stupid thought about looking stupid. Maybe this is the grace of age, maturing enough to say who the fuck cares, just get out there and be somebody. I give this advice to anybody about running. Who cares what you look like, how slow you go, how far you go, just get out there – but don’t we always give way better advice to others, than we ingest for ourselves??

Well not this time – I am a real gal in search of fitness. First foray was “Ringside” – cardio/strength class with boxing moves as the recovery. My Sugar Ray Leonard was on tilt! If I knew how to insert an emoji it would be the one with the hearts for eyes. Slight drawback for the people on either side of me, as it was not until the end of the class that I asked the instructor for a tutorial on jab/cross/uppercut/shuffle/duck – needless to say my classmates did alot of ducking with sugar ray on the move! And that class is fully in my rotation now. Fabulous!

Today is a real leap.. hot yoga. Visualize your Champion gym shorts, cotton t-shirt, mat that may or may not be used in a garage during oil changes – that is who is walking into the class today.

My trusted accomplice Susan has yelled from the sidelines – I look forward to reading the blog with the words Never Again. My super fit friend Toop said – “it is a strenuous class!” – exclamation mark FFS?? And my niece who is a yoga instructor said very encouragingly, go you, be a badass, oh and don’t do more than you can. What does that even mean as downward dog means I bend down to pet the dog!

Stay tuned. Noon class, update to follow.

Whatever your fitness journey, hope to see you along the way.

8-18-21 Random Swimming

I smell like chlorine, and that’s a good thing! Have been chasing the Lake George swim challenge. X number of miles in X number of days. All very attainable unless you procrastinate. Hello, please call me Procrastinator Plus. Queen of talk, less royal on action. Down to 4 days and have 5.5 miles to go. Oooph, my muscles and maybe mostly my tendons are screaming. But I am determined, and next year hoping that at least one of my swims will be in the actual Lake George.

Talk soon

Hope to see you along the way~~~~

29 March 2021 – Day Off

You know you have a day off when you take the time to wash, scrub, tone, serum and primer your face. And blog about it.
You know its been an insanely long time since you have written, when you have to reacquaint yourself with your log in credentials. Mon dieu!

But a day off it is and I can check off run, shower, freshly scrubbed face. Currently conducting an inventory of an insane amount of cosmetic samples. And of course making grand plans to start using them every day, regardless of their born on date. Can you say.. breakout??!!



So so much has occurred since we last chatted, but I’m determined to stay on point on the day: said inventory, clutter, groceries.

More later, no promises of when, but I miss you.

Must run, cannot avoid that hodge podge drawer any longer.

Hope to see you along the way.

7-27-20 A little mailbox treat

Picked up my mail today. Have a home address but also have a P.O. from years ago that I’ve never given up.

Peeked in this evening and saw 2 letters! Have no expectation of responses to letters I am sending but it was fun nevertheless to see mail with real stamps. Spoiler alert, one letter was a return, IA, Insufficent Address. Don’t fret, I’m chasing that address down as I liked my letter hahaha and I like the friend. The other letter has to wait, my treat for posting.

Been a little over 2 weeks, fun so far, and every day a “reason” presents itself. Birthdays, celebrations, and even a letter to an author of a book I finished and LOVED. Likelihood of that letter hitting the mark is slim, but that’s okay, fun to write it.

Okay – gotta run.

Hope to see you along the way.