Don’t Wine, Have Some Pinto

Tonight Patrick and Walker devised the menu and our wine choices were between Cabernet and Pinto (which is either horse meat or some obscure galloping wine branded in the Midwest. ) We were unclear as to our choices. We later learned that pinto was meant as Pinot. Lobster tail was on the menu. Patrick: is it a fish or a crab? Me: it's a crustacean. Patrick: it is pretty … [Read more...]

Praying as a Family

We are up in ol' Virginie for the Christmas reunion. Tonight we dined as a big family at Vito's Italian restaurant.  Then we returned home to my parents' circa 1886 federal home, with the addition of little cousins Patrick and Andrew, joining Walker.  The adults gathered in the bedroom to say prayers for the kids before they tucked it in for the night and it went like this: Dad led things off … [Read more...]

Cack-tastrophe on the Path Less Travelled

We were late to the beach. Everyone else was down there. But I wasn’t ready yet and I hate to be rushed. Especially on vacation, because that would be wrong. So, Walker and I had a quest to find the family because they were down there tossing the Nerf and strolling the surf. I was new to Kiawah Island and didn’t know how to get to the beach from the house. So we crossed the paved road and … [Read more...]

Directional Sense and Trip Travel

(Walker is my nine-going-on-forty year old muse. She keeps me firmly upward, skimming the top of life's floatsam....) Walker. We ARE are taking the convertible for the trip? Me. Yes. Party! Woo hoo! Walker: So...if it's warm we can put down the top? Me: Yeah! Walker: But...that's not going to happen is it? Me. (Kinda dejected) No. Probably not. ***** Walker says that if I was a … [Read more...]

Ho-Ho is a No-No

I need a good picture for this site.  Something that sums me up.  And I just don’t have one. Well, I kinda do, but I was a mere puppy back then and now I’m more of a middle-aged bitch. In that photo of olde, I was sitting on an unfolded lounge chair, senior year of high school, wearing my boyfriend Travis’ huge gold class ring, sporting my Glenn Close tightly-permed, look-alike hair.  (I … [Read more...]

It’s Not Me. It’s You.

There is a teacher at Walkers school from… let’s say Britain.   Her name is a joy to say if you were to exaggerate it and draw out all of the vowels in a very English fashion.  In fact, I cannot ever convey--in font-- the joy I derive from saying her name repeatedly, using my awesome cockney accent. Let's just say that I might have overdone it, as is my tendency. Walker has forbidden me to … [Read more...]