The Big Apple: Day 5, Leaving NYC --There's No Place Like Home

[Sidenote:  As you know, it was almost a year ago -- October 2011 -- that I went on this trip, so I figured with the one-year anniversary coming up, I'd better darn tooting get my butt in gear and get this posted.  So here it is.  The last stop in my big adventure.]

I can't believe it!  It is actually Day 5 and it is time to go home.  This has been such a wonderful, memorable trip for me, that it is almost too hard to put into words -- oops -- except for the (probably) thousands that I have already shared with you already! LOL!

Well, what would this journey be if I didn't include one more post -- so let's giddy-up and take it home, folks!

Getting up what we thought was early enough to catch an 8:00 flight sometimes isn't necessarily early enough.  Did I mention I went to bed at 2:00 last night (this morning)?  I got up at 4:30 and laid there for a few minutes. Then by 5:00 figured I had better hit the shower.  I was going to try to do some packing last night - well, we all were but we were just too plain tired.  It has been a wearing week.  I have kept everyone up late at night by me just being up; I got everyone up earlier than they are accustomed to by getting up early and turning on the light (even if just to read) or go on my computer; and, poor Casey, has had to work through all this, too!  Not to mention that Nika is probably sick of being confined with me in the gotta-keep-going mode that I shifted into once we landed in NY.  Good thing when we got home last night that I had Casey run and get me some OJ to have by my bed.  I certainly didn't want to have to hit our wetbar -- too expensive!  But I suffered another low this morning -- not good timing, but, I'm sorry, sh_t happens!

Yep, and it sure did this morning.  I was running around trying to pack and get everything together, making sure we (I) didn't leave anything behind ... chargers, clothes, shoes, shoes, (did I mention shoes?).   When I finished getting ready in the bathroom, I literally pushed everything into my toiletries bag and then we were shoving shoes into anything that would hold them.  Ugh!@!

We loaded up (yes, I am not being slight here when I say loaded up --- Casey and Nika will attest to that -- poor things).  We are headed downstairs to catch a cab and drat, I'm afraid I'm going into a low again.  I told Casey to run across the street quickly while we hailed a cab -- okay, we had to have a SUV cab -- so he could grab me some orange juice.  I was extremely afraid that during our ride to the airport, we would get stuck in traffic and I would start to bottom out.  So we needed to take the time now.

The cab ride to the airport seemed to go quickly.  We paid the cabbie, jumped out, unloaded and here is where I get extremely lost. Once we enter the airport terminal, I’m not sure where to go.  Casey and Nika have been here dozens of times, so I’m leaving this part up to them.  I’m just following behind.  Earlier this week, Casey did some finagling with our seats, so we ended up with seats in the emergency exit section.  I didn’t quite know what that meant but they seemed happy, so I was, too. 

Next, we bolted off to the TSA checkpoints.  At O’Hare, I had sailed through with flying colors.  I was hoping for the same this time through, too.  As we got in line, I realized that I hadn’t pulled out all my diabetic supplies which I had done in O’Hare.  I was starting to panic a little thinking I was going to cause a problem and delay us.  Casey started saying quickly take off your shoes and put them in the bins, give me your IPad and laptop and we’ll put those in here, too.  Nika and Casey both said don’t worry about your jewelry because Nika never takes her’s off and she never gets stopped.  Okay, again, I am just here to listen and keep moving the line forward, especially when we had a group of big guys behind us who looked (and sounded) like they were off to a weekend trip to Vegas.  I didn’t want to be stomping on their parade. 

Everything went through fine ... that is until I started walking through.  Beep!  “Step back ma’am and walk through again.” Beep!  Oh crap! “Ma’am, please come over here so we can give you a full body cavity search.” Okay, no, they didn’t quite put it that way, but that was what was rolling around in my mind.  Casey and Nika were quickly slipping their shoes back on, gathering up our stuff (again, mostly MY stuff), snickering a little while watching me beginning the pat down.  All the time I was thinking the underwires in my bra and imagining having to strip that off in front of everyone – yes, I know, wild imagination.  I was sure they would make me go behind some x-ray machine while I was taking it off and so all the world could watch from the other side ... yep, still wild imagination.  A very nice, female TSA worker started working her way down through, carefully patting me down.  After she was done and while I was explaining to her that this was my second flight on a first-time flying experience, she whispered to me “I thought I would tell you that it was your necklace that set it off.”  Couldn’t help it but my evil eye popped out and immediately went to my traveling companions!  They, of course, thought it was funny.  Not funny enough, though, if we were going to miss our flight.  So off we flew with our luggage weighing us down (okay, again, yes, mostly my luggage as we each had a carry-on bag).  That doesn’t include, of course, the three checked bags which were all mine. 

Once we were on the airplane, Casey and Nika settled in for sleepy time.  Not me.  I was going to savor these moments as best I could.  And, on this return trip, I was doing it with plenty of leg room.  Now, heaven forbid that something would happen, and I would have to be “in charge” of the emergency exit.  But the leg room sure was nice.  I was able to twist and turn, and stretch the whole trip.  The return trip did, however, have another first for me.  Using the airplane bathroom.  I drank quite a bit of coffee which I was afraid of doing because my bladder does not bode well with coffee but it is a necessity so we ... pardon the pun ... go with the flow.  This meant I now had to "pay the piper" and witness first-hand the horrors of what I was told from others about “don’t use the airplane bathroom!”  From “it’s too cramped,” “you’ll get claustrophobic,” to imagining getting sucked into and stuck on the toilet – yes, I was a little phobic about this next adventure.  Surprisingly, though, it wasn’t as bad as I thought.  I didn’t get stuck, I didn’t get sucked in and I didn’t go manic from being enclosed in a broom closet big enough for a mop and two brooms. 

All in all, the flight back just wasn’t too bad.  I got “felt up” in front of God and everyone, had a potty break that didn’t go terribly wrong and was able to stretch out and nod off for a couple minutes, too, all the while taking in the scenery from down below and up above whenever there was some. 

Once we landed at O’Hare, we caught a cab, loaded it up and headed back to Casey and Nika’s apartment where my car had sat for a few lonely days.  The kids were tired and I know longing for another nap and I, too, just wanted to get home.  So, I said my good-byes, thank you’s and love you’s, jumped in my car, hooked up my GPS and set out for the Wisconsin countryside.  Getting to Casey’s apartment always seems like it takes longer than when I leave.  Chicago was kind to me on my return trip and didn’t make me wait on the freeways.  I made it as far as the Belvidere Oasis rest stop and knew it was time to fuel up the car and my body.  I am one who usually only drinks coffee in the morning.  (Remember my mention earlier that it goes right thru me!)  But I needed caffeine, so I went inside and got a large Starbucks to go.  I knew it would last me quite awhile which was good to keep me awake.  But no matter how much caffeine you have, sometimes you just need to move around a little more or the stagnant position you are sitting in makes you sleepy.  When I realized that I had missed my turnoff at Rockford, I took the next one at South Beloit.  Once I had driven through that burb and was in the country, I pulled over, got out and walked around the car a couple times.  Yes, it was 2:00 in the afternoon and I was tired.  I jumped back in and got to the other side of Monroe before I had to repeat the same act.

Here, is when I clicked my shiny red shoes (okay, not shiny, but they were red slip-on tennis shoes!), and repeated, “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”  Before I knew it, I was pulling in the driveway.  I was tickled to see Bob, Pongo, Wolfie and the cats and they all greeted me graciously, too.  Bob, of course, was wondering what foreign country I had traveled to and it seemed like I had only been gone a few days so how could I come home with all this luggage.  Men -- they just don't understand what women need to have with them so they are prepared at all times. 

I have to say -- it is fun to travel, it’s fun to fly, it’s fun to see and experience new adventures, but yes, Auntie Em, there’s no place like home. 

The Big Apple: Day 4, Part 6: SoHo Shopping and Dinner in Little Italy

Nika, me and Casey at Il Picolo Bufalo in Little Italy

The final part of my last day in New York City is about to come to a close.  What better way to top it off than shopping and Italian dining.  

After leaving the American Museum of Natural History, Nika and I hopped back on the subway and headed back to the hotel to freshen up.  There we met Casey, just finished with work, and off we went to my next big adventure – shopping at Soho and 5th Avenue – and then dining in Little Italy.  

I have to say that Casey was certainly right when he kept instructing me to not, not, not pack much for clothes, etc.,  when I made my trip to New York.  He said the shopping was out of this world.  I strongly (in my mind) disagreed, thinking that the prices would be "out of this world" and that I would find nothing.  Huh! Well, let me be the first to confess -- I was wrong, wrong, wrong!!! He kept telling me that we would head out to Soho to do some shopping and that I would be fascinated with what I would find.  Okay, again, I was wrong, he was right!

When we stepped off the subway at Spring Street I immediately fell in love.

Trendy shopping, it's cobblestone streets and cast iron buildings.  SoHo is called the heart and soul of New York City.  And with its prominent place in being the backdrop for many movie locations, fashion shoots, and one of the best places in the city to catch a glimpse of famous stars, many of whom live in SoHo, I can certainly see why.  

SoHo is shorthand for south of Houston (pronounced "how-stun"). It is the first official acronym given to a neighborhood in NYC.  The official historical district from 1973 together with Houston to the north, is north of Canal Street, and between West Broadway and Crosby Streets.  The history of SoHo dates back to the early 1600's when it was just grassy meadows where Indian Tribes settled.  This neighborhood has gone through many drastic changes over the years to get to what it is today.  

Nika and I

We strolled down the streets of SoHo taking in the many shops and storefronts while browsing about inside to find some great deals.  We did some haggling with street vendors and with ethnic shop owners.  I snagged a Coach purse, some (5) shoes, some gifts, some clothes.  While we were “negotiating” on a price for my Coach purse and a Louie Vitton purse for Nika, a group of guys gathered close by to anther street vendor located next to our salesman.  I think he was thinking the same thing we were – something might be brewing and neither he nor us wanted to be witness to or in the middle of whatever transpired.  It worked out well in our favor, as his expression was continuously, “hey, you are killing me here” all the while aware that a storm might be brewing to his right.  But, he has never dealt with a Wisconsin girl who has learned Garage Sale Haggling 101 from her mother.  They have never published the book, but it is lessons you pick up when you are young and handed down from generation to generation – you might be embarrassed to see your mom do it, pledge you would never, ever do the same thing, would never, ever attend a garage sale, let alone be caught dead “bargaining” on a price – but yet that day comes and the next thing you know, you look in the mirror and, yes, you've grown up and you are looking, acting and sounding just like your mom trying to snag a deal.  Man, those genes certainly don’t fall far from that family tree, do they!

My new short rainboots

Casey and Nika had both forewarned me that haggling was allowed.  I told them to step back and let Momma into the front line with her assault rifle.  I was going to snag a deal, come hell or high water.  In this case, it might be a neighborhood (or gang, for that matter) brawl, so either the vendor or I was going to have to kneel down to the other.  I was determined it was not going to be me, and I triumphantly walked away the victor for both Nika and myself.  The guy didn’t know what hit him! Huh!  I am told that is may be why they pack up shop and go running when they see (or hear) a Wisconsin girl coming down the street!  Hah!

Having pulled off enough deals to satisfy my shopping craving (well, that and I was being told we were going to have to start shipping things home if I didn’t stop), and the fact that my feet were starting to hurt for all the walking that day, a mutual decision was made that it was time to get some grub. 


Loaded down with packages, we strolled off to Little Italy to have dinner. Eccentric Little Italy in New York City was once the energetic home of most of NYC’s Italian population.  Now it is the top tourist destination in Manhattan.  The narrow cobblestone streets, located on Mulberry Street between Broome and Canal Streets, lay beneath decades-old fire escapes lined with Italian restaurants.  It is said that these cosy restaurants serve up some of the best Italian food outside of Italy.

Two pairs of brown heels, my black/white shoes and my furry (ugg-like) boots.

We were headed for Il Picolo Bufalo - a quaint, little Italian restaurant with fantastic food, where Casey had eaten before a few times and remarked at the start of my visit that we had to go there.  This place labels itself as the "Taste of Naples in New York -- in the Heart of Little Italy."  And it certainly did not disappoint.  It truly was fine authentic Italian cuisine. 

After stuffing our bellies, it was time to think about heading back.  Since my feet were now thinking they needed a vacation and, as I said, we were loaded down with packages from our shopping excursion, I made the executive decision that we were not going to try to take and juggle all this stuff on the subway (okay, maybe I was a little frightened about taking all my "priceless" treasures on the subway), so we hailed a cab and off we went back to our hotel.  The original plan, of course, was that we would try to do one of two things at this point -- go up the Empire State Building (too many packages to carry up that) and/or carriage ride in Central Park (it was raining, so we nixed that idea, too).  Life is so hard when you have so many options, but dang it, my feet were hurting from so much walking, and since they were protesting (quite loudly, I might add), we figured it best to head for home (or, in this case, our hotel).

Some chocolates I picked up for Bob at the Willy Wonka store in Times Square.

We arrived back at the hotel, saved from the rain by taking the cab ride, and I began unpacking my "finds" for the evening.  As we got ready for bed and I rummaged through my purchases, then crawled into bed with my laptop to download the pictures I had taken that day plus make notes of the adventures we had taken, too, that day, I reminisced about the day. I got to do a lot of shopping. I got to do a little wheeling and dealing on prices.  This was fun.  It was almost like not even being away from home – somewhat akin to garage saleing in Wisconsin! Ha!  You can take the girl out of Wisconsin, but ... you can't take Wisconsin out of the girl.

So, here we are.  The last night of my big adventure.  I have to say it -- what a perfect ending to a perfect trip.  

But now it is time to get some ZZZZZs because in the morning "I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane."

The Biggest Apple I've Ever Seen -- Day Un (1)

Holy Cow! Did I not tell you about my trip to New York. How can that be? It was the center of my universe for weeks – before and after. Naughty, naughty, naughty. Well, let’s not make that trip and its sensational sights be all for naught. Let me share some of those wonderful events with you now. I have to grab my notes (and go back into some of the blogs I started back in October about this trip but never finished). So time to get them done and out so you can see and hear about it. Here we go -- It's Day One of My Big Adventure, 10-11-11.

Up, Up and Away. First off, remember me telling you this was my first airplane trip. Well, Tuesday morning brought anxiety before we even hit the tarmac. Nika and I hopped a cab to O’Hare, picking us up at the corner by their apartment. A nice gentleman who, one pressed for conversation, joined in. The one thing he did say that stuck in my mind was “this is the worst I have ever seen traffic” – oh, no!! Oh, yes! He quipped he thought it was all because this was the first business day after a holiday. Monday was Columbus Day and apparently they celebrate that more in Chicago than they do in Madison. Traffic was knee-deep and slowing down every second. The minute we thought we were out of it, back in the thick of it again. Thinking that we were leaving in plenty of time (by Nika’s “watch” as she has driven Casey to the airport many mornings to catch his flights to New York), we hailed the cab at 6:15 a.m., hoping to be at the airport by 7:00. Our flight was leaving at 8:30. Finally breaking through the traffic jams, our trusty driver pulled in and let us off at 8:00. Scramble, we did. And me with all my suitcases! (Evil look from Nika!). I still needed to stop at the bathroom (too much coffee was drank on the ride there), get some water for my cup (to ward off getting dehydrated which pushes me into a low), get some orange juice (to stop a low in case I go into one) and get through — security. Yes, as I mentioned before, my real anxiety was getting through security with my insulin, needles, etc., etc. I had everything packed so it was easily accessible to be pulled out and explained. Needless to say, that went fine. My two suitcases went bye-bye and off on a run we went. I found a bathroom and Nika grabbed our two carry-ons and was off to find me some water and orange juice. I quickly came out of the bathroom but couldn’t find Nika. I ran around looking more for my red bag carry-on instead of her. Ultimately, she found me. She had already deposited our bags with the airport ticket-taker (smart move, Nika! She, of course, travels more than I do!). In through the tunnel we went to board the plane. The last to arrive! Whew! Got our seats and settled in. [Yes, that is Nika in the picture up above making faces at me when I am trying to take her picture!]

Next worry was airsickness. Nope, skip that – next worry was passing out. Once we got into our seats, the overwhelming heat in the plane was almost forcing me into a low. I quickly grabbed my water to make sure I was hydrated and our traveling companion in the third aisle seat assured me it would soon be cold. Once the plane started up and the A/C kicked in, she was right. I hastily unpacked my camera so I could take pictures of us taking off and the sights below and the clouds. Nika made a point of showing me where my air bag was in case I felt the urge to dispel some of my breakfast around the airplane.

I was filled with the sense of adventure and having been awake since about 4:00 a.m., it was hard to subdue that feeling. My motor mouth started and I know all Nika wanted at that point was peace and quiet so she could sleep. (She will admittedly tell you she is not a morning person). She impulsively pulled out the headphones. I have since found out that in the “Air Travel Etiquette Book” this is a sign to the person next to you to “shut up.” Haha! No one hands you this book, some things you just have to learn. I mean I already knew about the Golden Rule #1 – never say the word b-o-m-b; never, never, never. Not talking about a Hail Mary pass, a cocktail, or a project that fell apart. Never, never, never. So that wasn’t hard – it was already ingrained in my brain, because I didn’t want TSA throwing me in an airport cell for being a suspected terrorist or something. Nevertheless, I was to still able to keep myself busy by taking pictures of tiny little hills and trees below, the layout of the land, the clouds, and even snuck a few in of Nika (to her dismay -- again see her picture, above). [The second picture above is when we were leaving Chicago O'Hare and I snapped a few of Chi-Town from up above.] I read a little and then she wanted to play with my IPAD. Now this is when she began to get giddy from lack of sleep. She took my IPad and started to take pictures of herself with the photobooth. This app can distort your face, expressions, etc., and can be quite comical to play with. It occupied Nika’s time. I spent some time messing around with my laptop in between taking pictures.

Landing in the Big Apple. Then out of the blue, things seemed to be getting a bit closer and the pilot said we would soon be beginning our descent. I could feel my stomach making leaps – not from the descent but for the thrill of what was in store for me the next few days. A little kid in a candy store wouldn’t even come close to what I was feeling! [The picture to the left is of the Statue of Liberty as we were flying into New York. She looks like a grand old gal from even high in the sky.]



Once we hit the airport, we grabbed our bags and set out to get a cab. [Nika got me back and snagged a picture of me standing in line for the cab as proof that I took may bags along -- yes, those are all my red bags. At least I was able to readily identify my bags. Color coordinated--even on a trip! Nika's one bag is the pink carry on. And see the next picture below -- it is called tit-for-tat. I snatched a picture of Nika standing in line behind me. She was boxed in, so she couldn't run from the camera! Hello, pretty girl!]

My Big Adventure Starts to Kick Into High Gear. In the cab and heading to our hotel, we unfortunately hit a snag – caught in a traffic jam in one of the tunnels (I think it was the New Jersey tunnel). Darn! No good views here. After a few frantic phone calls from Casey (as we were supposed to be meeting up with some of his coworkers to go out to lunch), we finally made it to the hotel. Casey popped in just in time to get us up to the room, dump off our stuff and out into the streets of New York we went.


Lunch at Frankie & Johnnie's. We were meeting his co-workers at a place Ron (co-worker) picked out called Frankie & Johnnie’s Steakhouse. My kind of place, too. I absolutely loved the architecture of the inside of the building. [See picture to the left of us at F&J's. You can even see in the mirror the waiter taking our picture.] As many may know, Frankie & Johnnie has been the longest running show on Broadway, and this restaurant is also one of the city’s oldest continued dining establishment, having first opened as a speakeasy in 1926. Ron noted that this was also at one time the home of late actor Douglas Fairbanks. I did a little extra reading on this establishment and found that legend has it that to gain access to the original speakeasy, patrons knocked on the unmarked door and used the password “Frankie” when a small peephole was opened. If it was business as usual, a confirmation reply of “Johnnie” was heard and admittance was gained. Hence, the Frankie & Johnnie moniker. And now you know the rest of the story. Following the repeal of prohibition, the restaurant became a steakhouse and an institution famous for its steaks and chops. Gotta love a place with lots and lots of history. It almost wanted to quietly utter the word “Frankie” to see if I would receive a ghostly reply. If you ever make it out to New York City, you have to schedule a visit there. Big kudos to Ron for being such a fine host!

After devouring a delicious lunch of burgers and fries, we all sauntered up the street a few blocks to their office building. While the others went back to their respective offices, Casey took Nika and I on a tour. Nika had been there before, but this was my first time, so he had to introduce everyone to Momma. Here I was introduced to Casey’s creative world at the office. His office buddies were super fantastic people.

Planning Strategy Session. After that, Nika and I strolled back to our room where we unpacked, rested for a moment and then tried to do some planning for the coming days. When we our master laid out, I hooked us up with tickets for the Grey Line tour and we mapped out our days.

Times Square Here We Come. With that completed, Casey returned after work and we headed out to Times Square do some sightseeing and shopping. [Picture to the left is Casey and I in Times Square.] Nika was looking for a dress to wear to the play the next night, so we headed to Forever 21. I had always avoided the store before, because, well frankly, pushing 21 was a little hard for me to pass! Haha! But I quickly found out that is not necessarily true. I bought a shirt and sweater and a couple pairs of shoes. 21, huh! Maybe I can be 21 Forever.

We also took a little stroll through the famous Times Square Toys R Us. I wanted to ride the three-story high Ferris wheel, but couldn’t get anyone else to join me. Since I didn’t want to look the senile, old Momma, I opted to stay off it, too. Instead, we headed to the other side of the ferris wheel to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory store. Mmmmm, mmmmm! Lots of chocolates there. Nika, having a sweet tooth, made Casey buy her some chocolates and I decided to do the same for Bob. (I was just hoping that they would survive the rest of the week and the trip home before some little mouse --me-- would start nibbling on them!)



Where's Waldo & the Dancing "Wanna-Be Cowboy." Next, we roamed around some more taking in the sights and sounds and faces of Times Square. Outside Forever 21 we crossed the street to other side so we could see ourselves up there on the big screen plectron in front of God and everyone. That was neat, so I took pictures of us on the screen.

[Picture to the left is the close-up shot of us sitting across the street from the plectron where the camera picked us up. The next picture is the "far away" version, what we liked to call sort of a "Where's Waldo" type of pic. Can you find us?]





Right behind where we were sitting was an insanely funny guy who thought he could dance along with the girl in the advertisement on the plectron (that was for real on the plectron in an advertisement) so he jiggled and swayed to the loud music. Quite hilarious! [See the picture to the right. Remember, this is October and he is half-naked. Kind of funny how he was shaking his arms so to the music that in this pic, it looks like he has none. And no, this was not the naked cowboy -- just a poor imitation of it.]

It's 10:30 -- Time to Eat. Following that we headed over to (attempt) to eat supper at the Hard Rock Café but it was a 40-minute wait and it was now getting to a point after walking (and shopping) for four hours and so many blocks, that I soon needed to eat. We shopped a bit at the Hard Rock and then sauntered over to Planet Hollywood. The wait there was much shorter, and since it was already getting to be around 10:30 p.m., it was definitely time to eat. (Not in terms of NY time, though. People out there eat late and go out late). This supper time was beginning to crouch in on my usual bed time. [See the picture below of Casey and Nika eating at Planet Hollywood.]

Day 1 Winding Down. Again, we enjoyed great food and what more could you ask for. A safe trip, time with my family, I was having the time of my life. We arrived back at our hotel room around 12:30 a.m., Casey headed right to bed since he had to work again the next day. Nika was tiring out also, and so was I. At least I thought, I was. Instead of heading underneath the covers though, I pulled out my laptop and started downloading my pictures. Once downloaded, I quickly started transferring them over to my Facebook page. I had told family at home that I would try to keep them up-to-date daily and I wanted to make good on my word. When the last of that was done, it was after 1:30, so it was definitely time for me to hit the hay. (And, remember, we were now an hour ahead of time from what I was used to, so come morning, that was going to be a shocker, too.)

So much for Day 1 of My Big Adventure. Stay tuned for Shari Hits the Big Apple – Day Deux.

Shari' Bucket List: Check One Off for New York City

I have a confession to make – okay, now that I think about it, I think I have started out this way before in some of the other blogs. I’m beginning to sound like a repentant Catholic in a confessional or a politician caught with his pants down ... so maybe I should change my discourse and instead say ... I have a statement to make.

I have never flown before. Hmmmm...maybe I have mentioned that before. It all pertains to my paternal grandfather’s untimely death in a small, single-engine plane crash in 1968. I was young but still remember the catastrophic event very well. Because of that, I have been somewhat afraid to fly. So most of my travels have all been by car.

In less than two weeks, I will change all that by hopping on a jet plane and flying to New York. Another checkmark on my bucket list.

Now bucket lists have become a familiar term since the movie, “The Bucket List” with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholas. I think that it made people become more aware of their mortality and what they want to accomplish in their perusings of life on this Earth. Many may not actually sit down and write out a detailed list of their bucket list, but most merely do what I have done – grasp a mental picture of the things you want to do and put it on that imaginary roster of things to tick off once you have accomplished them.

On this trip, I intend to grab my imaginary pencil and check off quite a few things. Those that I know for sure are: (1) Flying, check; (2) New York City, check; (3) a Broadway play – in this case, I’ve already bought tickets for Wicked (check); which will be playing at (4) the famed Gershwin Theater, (check). Now to accomplish a few more checkmarks, I am hoping that our schedule fits in (5) Statute of Liberty, (6) Empire State Building, (7) 9/11 Memorial – I know that since the Memorial inside is booked up for that week that I may not be able to get inside to see that, but I will be able to at least walk around and view the outside areas, (8) Central Park. Now I have a few more things that The New Yorker and New York Magazine have suggested, so that will be just a little more frosting on my cupcake if I get to those, too.

I’m hoping that I can spend my time wisely but still be able to gawk and ahhhh over lots of other things. My mental plan for the plane trip is already the following: (1) first-and-foremost, hopefully, not to get air sick, (2) to take pictures flying out, flying in and the clouds, etc., along the way, (3) I’m taking my IPad so that I can do a little reading of any books I may have downloaded that I have started, (4) I’m taking hardcover books that I have bought and want to read – Son of Stone by Stuart Woods and my new memoirs of Jacqueline Kennedy book by Caroline Kennedy, (5) my laptop is coming along so that I can download my pictures along the way to document my trip and share with others, plus I can write some new and finish some old blogs along the way. A bit ambitious for vacationing, but I am never one to sit still too long, unless, of course, I am reading or writing.

Now, having said all that, my camera intends to be my best friend on this trip. I am thankful that my son Casey and his girlfriend Nika will be there to guide my along the way and share the wonderful memories I hope to incur.

My biggest fear – is not really flying per se – but getting through security at the airport. I bought a new suitcase that will hold at least half of Manhattan (if not all) which Casey has not seen yet but I could hear the wince in his voice when I told him about it. All his fault, though, really. He is the one (aided with a few comments from Nika, too) that said I need to pack less going out, leave more room in my suitcase to bring things back after shopping out there. I am never, never, ever a light packer, so my compromise was – (you guessed it) get a bigger suitcase. I also purchased a matching carry-on bag that will fit my laptop, my IPAD, my camera, some food, my jewelry, one book, my diabetic supplies, and other “necessities.” I know that once I get through security I need to get a bottle of water and a bottle of orange juice. I’ll pack some candy bars and fruit for the possibility of a diabetic low while on the plane. The orange juice is always my “go-to” but I want to have a backup plan.

I’ve already viewed and noted the TSA’s list of what-to-do’s and what-not-to-do’s when going through security. It was noted that since I am a diabetic, I need to have all my diabetic supplies (which by the way are not limited) displayed in a quart-size see through baggie and that I must tell the first security officer at the beginning of the line that I am a diabetic and have diabetic supplies items that need to be viewed. So I know it will take me a little longer to go through security. Casey will have already flown to New York the week before, as we will be going out during one of his weeks working in New York. So, Nika drew the short straw and will be my flying companion on the way out. I’ll start to experience anxiety the minute we get out of the cab at O’Hare Airport, unless Casey’s friend, Blake, drives us – then it will be probably before I get out of his car because I am sure he will have to tease me a little on the way. So, the possibility of going into a “low” while standing in line, the odds are highly in favor of a yes on that subject. Having said that, I’m not even out of the car or standing in line yet, and I’m already anticipating stress. Next will come making sure I have my e-ticket info with me. (Better get that put on my checklist right now – yes, I am very, very anal – I have lists upon lists for packing, etc.!!) (Hmmm...now that I am thinking about my lists, I better make sure I also put down my e-tickets for Wicked too – list is getting longer!) Okay, where was I – oh, yea, at the ticket counter. Getting my ticket, then going to stand in line to go through security. This is where I hope I don’t run into any problems with my insulin, etc., because if something gets broken there, I’m in a world of hurt. Now, I understand that the TSA workers are not the Gestapo. In fact, we have represented a few, but it is what you see or hear on TV, movie, etc., that always puts a little bit of apprehension in lining up for the TSA firing squad. It may not hurt at all. Maybe better to expect and be prepared for the worst, that way I will be wildly surprised and appreciative.

If I make it through security with no mistakes in my packing, etc., I will be a happy camper, errr, flyer.

When I first was planning this trip, I wanted to take the Amtrak train out. Only because I love to see the country. I’m in a car driving around almost every single day of my life. I love to look around and see what is out there. Probably comes from growing up with a father who loved to take Sunday drives, drive at speeds not exceeding 30-40 m.p.h. because he was always looking out the window admiring what this farmer was doing, what the weather was doing, and what amazing things God had created to see on each trip in the car. I’m the same, so that apple didn’t fall far from the tree. But since it would take a day-and-a-half to get out there by train, I decided to forego it this time and do the plane both ways instead of just on the way back. I’m hoping that by looking out the plane window, I can see some of the little things we take for granted while standing on the ground and looking up. This will be exciting.

I’m just hoping that while I’m climbing up the air ladder a little closer to God, that he doesn’t come up with anything too exciting – because, frankly, I’ve put that to the back of my subconscious mind. I’m looking forward to trying to get through a few more items on my bucket list first so he better not mess with that.

A man never wants to mess with a woman’s list – not a good idea at all!!!

That's Amore!

"That's Amore" is a 1952 song by composer Harry Warren and lyricist Jack Brooks. It became a major hit and signature song for Dean Martin in 1953. Amore means "love" in Italian, giving a general translation in English to "that's love.” Through the years I remember hearing Dean Martin sing this song and it always brought thoughts of soothing thoughts and romantic scenes running through my mind like a corner Italian bistro with a table set for two, a bottle of wine and two lovers holding hands, gazing starry-eyed into each others eyes. Ahhhhhhh....

Well, so much for my daydreaming! Today, I take Valentine’s Day as a chance to show my love and appreciation to those I love, and to be the recipient of same! If it isn’t said every day, then V-Day is as good as a time as ever to say I “HEART” U! So, I look forward to this day, when I know that I will receive flowers and a well-thought-out card from my husband; Bob knows he will get candy, some well-thought out gift, and a well-sought-after card; my boys (and their girls) will be getting something special from me, too.

I posted on Facebook yesterday that Bob has not failed me in the last 20 years with “surprising” me with flowers for Valentine’s. It is usually always red roses, but in the past he has changed it up some. One year it was white roses, one year white calla lilies and red roses and even a mixture of different colored roses. He doesn’t want to get too predictable, and I do like that. I may be selfish, but I love getting flowers for Valentine’s Day. I don’t need the candy or anything else. But the flowers – they warm my heart. It also helps get the through the Winter blues; gives me hope that I will soon be out there tending to my rose bushes and other flowers in my gardens. Call me selfish if you want, but I would have it no other way. And, again, this year he didn’t fail me. When I got home I found a beautiful display of a mixture of a dozen roses with colors ranging from red, pink, white, yellow. It, of course, warmed my heart.

This year, I was doubly surprised because the boys, Casey and Brady, their girls, Nika and Jenne, and their dogs, Pongo and Paris, surprised me with red roses and a card. I was able to meet up with Brady and Jenne outside of a Madison hospital where Jenne’s dad had surgery yesterday. Not the typical location for an exchange of gifts, but it works. Brady and Jenne were able to open up their gifts and they presented me with the red roses. Casey and Nika are coming back this weekend, so they will have to wait for their’s until then.

I always try to change things up every year. In the past, sometimes they have all gotten the same thing. One year, I gave them all a large bowl (which I called their popcorn bowls), filled with candy and chocolates and a little something special to each. Some years they have gotten clothes, CDs or DVDs. Bob’s gifts this year were lots of candy and a couple Packer Super Bowl t-shirts (which he wanted and I was holding off getting for me). Brady got a Brewer’s zipup and Jenne got a Packers t-shirt, and of course, they also got candy. Casey and Nika . . . well, I guess since I am posting this before they arrive home, I can’t tell what I got for them. But I hope they like it.

Jenne told me that after two-and-a-half years together, she finally got flowers from Brady. That makes a momma proud that he has finally stepped up! Way to go, Brady. And on my way home, I talked to Casey and chastised him when he told me he hadn’t gotten Nika anything but a card that he drew himself. Of course, he was joking with me just to get a rise out of me – which the boys know they can do! But he stepped up, too, with flowers, candy and a card. Hmmm . . . maybe they HAVE been paying attention through the years.

One thing Bob and I always traditionally do, too, is we go out to eat. Since we are farmers and I also work off the farm, sometimes our Valentine’s Day dinner date might not necessarily coincide exactly with Valentine’s Day itself. This year, we went out to eat at Longhorn Steakhouse on Sunday, the day before Valentine’s. We were able to get away for a few hours in the middle of the day, to enjoy a meal by ourselves, and hold hands at the bar while we waited for our table. Not anything too fancy or overly romantic, but it works for us. Many years ago, Bob and I had started a little tradition where we always got a heart-shaped pizza for Valentine’s Day. We hadn’t done that for awhile, so last night when I left work, I stopped and picked one up on the way. It was late when I got home, after 8:30, so this was just right for us. On Sunday after we got home for our date lunch, I made, frosted and decorated some simple Valentine Day cookies. I found that one cookie cutter I did not have was a heart-shaped one, so after lunch we had a couple errands to run and I looked for one, but alas, couldn’t find one. So round I went with. That works just as well, too.

Everyone has their holiday traditions and starting a Valentine’s Day one isn’t too bad of any idea. We live in a fast-paced world today and taking the time out of one day of the year to show your love and appreciation for those that you love isn’t too much to ask. And everyone has their own way of showing that love. If it is untraditional or unorthodox, who cares – if it works for you, that is all that matters. It certainly works for me.

Mothering Never Stops - Especially on Mother's Day

Happy Mother’s Day to all my female family and friends out there! Whether you are a mother or have never experienced being a mother at all, I still say Happy Mother’s Day to you. Being a mother does not necessarily mean giving birth to a child. I think being a female puts “mother” in part of your job description. There is hardly a female that I know that hasn’t at some point in her life taken on the role of care giver, mothering someone whether it be a younger/older sibling, parent, another relative or friend. It is in our nature.

And, Happy Mother’s Day to me, too, if you don’t mind if I say so. My Mother’s Day has not started out as I wanted, as I am writing this from the early depths of the morning of Mother’s Day, awaiting a call from a doctor one-hundred-and-sixty miles or three hours drive away from me. I have been told to stay put until I get that call. That is hard to tell a Mother Bear to stay put when there is something wrong with one of her cubs. I have packed my insulin and pills, my G.P.S. is set to go, I have researched, but I am told to sit and wait, so I decided to write. It is 3:00 a.m. on Mother’s Day, but let me go back to Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day to fill you in on how my Mother’s Day weekend started.

It is Saturday, and untraditionally, today is my Mother’s Day. My boys and Bob are taking me out to eat today as both the boys will be gone on Mother’s Day – Casey back to Chicago for his football game and Brady off to play Home Talent baseball. Casey and I had to take a quick trip to pick up the boys’ present to Bob for his birthday (which was last weekend). When you have one son out of state, you learn you have to wait on gifts sometimes. After milking and chores are done and Bob comes in, he opens his gifts – two glazed donuts, a bag of peanut M&M’s, and a new chain saw. Happy that he has another new toy to play with, he jumps in the shower to get ready to take me out to eat. Casey and I are showered and ready to go. We are now waiting on Brady, who has been golfing since 8:30 this morning. It is cold, rainy and windy — not ideal weather for golfing, but it is a fundraiser for one of his good friends who has cancer. People learn to tough it out when it comes to doing special things for people close to us. Nine holes later, Brady is at the house and we are all off to eat at Longhorn Steak House in Madison.

Back at home again, after eating and I have a new addition to my gardens. For Mother’s Day the boys bought me a gorgeous blue stone/ceramic bird bath. It adds a little extra needed color to the dreary day in my gardens.

Brady headed back out to the golf course to help with the rest of the day’s fundraiser and Bob headed to the barn. While waiting for some of Casey’s clothes to dry, we decided to watch one of the Netflix movies I had recently gotten in the mail - Brothers. Casey initially said he would only be able to stay for a half hour, but probably a half hour before it ended, he headed out. It is now between 7-7:30 p.m. After the movie finished, the rest of my non-traditional Mother’s Day evening was spent working on my recipe books. I grab something to eat. Bob, in from the barn, isn’t hungry. It is now 10:00 p.m. and Casey calls to say that he is now home in his Chicago apartment, safe and sound. So tired from the day, I head to bed.

At 11:30 p.m., my phone (charging on my bed stand and after the last four months with my Aunt, never far from my reach) starts to ring. It announces the caller, saying “Casey.” I wonder as I quickly grab for the phone, why he is calling at this hour. The caller speaks, “This is Bobby, Casey’s friend. He wanted me to call you right away to tell you that I just rushed him to the hospital.” I “calmly” shout into the phone, “Bobby, what happened?” Bobby say, “I don’t know. I only live five blocks from Casey and he called me and said he felt like he was having a heart attack, he couldn’t feel his left side and he had been vomiting black stuff for 20 minutes before he called me. So I ran over and got him and we are at the hospital.” “Which hospital,” I inquired. He said, “UIC (University of Illinois Medical Center).” I quickly told Bobby that I would pack up and be out the door in just a few minutes and would head right down. He said he didn’t know how long he would be able to stay and I said that is okay, I will get down there right away. I’m packing my insulin and pills, chargers and speedily getting ready. I tried Brady, but to no avail, so left a phone message and then texted him. I started texting his girlfriend, Jenne, (knowing that she was out at a bachelorette party, but maybe she had caught up with Brady by now), when Brady called me back. I told him I was heading to Chicago and wanted to know if he wanted to come along. He said Jenne was just meeting up with him and he had been out at the bar next door to his house with his friends after the golf fundraiser. I said that is okay, and I could pick him/them up. Then my phone rang again, the phone calling system on my phone announcing Casey’s phone. This time when I answered, I was greeted by still another new voice - the charge nurse from UIC. She immediately told me that Bobby had mentioned to her I was going to head down. She said, “I don’t know exactly where you are at, but I understand you are a few hours away.” I confirmed that I was about three hours from the hospital. She said, “Can you just hold tight until we get a diagnosis, because I know the weather is not conducive to travel and we don’t need you out on the road in inclement weather, if you don’t need to be. I should be able to let you know something in 45 minutes”

Okay, as I grit my teeth – you want me to wait almost an hour while you diagnose my son which would then put my ETA at almost four hours. Hmmmmm....pretty brave to tell a Momma Bear to put away that maternal instinct of run to take care of a situation or just to be there, if need be. “Okay, a compromise of sorts then,” I said to Kathleen, the charge nurse. “Tell me what exactly what you are thinking is a possible diagnosis. I know (1) he is in a lot of pain, (2) that he didn’t have feeling on his left side, and (3) he was vomiting up ‘black stuff’ for almost 20 minutes before coming into the ER. Are we looking at possible appendicitis, something worse, or what” She paused for a moment and then said, “Kidney stones. My gut reaction at this point is kidney stones, but we won’t know anything further until we get the pain under control and we run some tests. Give me 45 minutes.” Okay, I conceded, “45 minutes.” She ended with, “here is the number at the ER and if I don’t call you back in 45 minutes, call this number and ask for me.”

Forty-six minutes later, I called the ER and asked for Kathleen. She came to the phone and said she was working at the moment in a different part of the ER and would put me on with Casey. Casey, in a raggedly painful voice, said, “they are 99% sure it is kidney stones, but I can let you know a little later. I just need to sleep so I don’t feel the pain.” Kathleen then got on the phone and said, “I would suggest that you don’t travel tonight, if you want to come down, but wait until morning breaks and then we will know more.” Morning breaks? Isn’t that what happened at midnight? Okay, then I will do what I do next best, research. Okay, if this is what they think it is, let’s find out what kidney stones have to say about themselves...

Well, a half hour later and I am now up to full speed on everything I needed to know about kidney stones, that I didn’t know before. I’ve never been up close and personal with kidney stones before, never had to research them. But what I did find, perplexed me (and later I find out has perplexed Casey’s doctors, too). Kidney stones are most common in men. More so, men in their 40's and up. Casey is today, one week shy of his 26th birthday. Hmmmm... Kidney stones are more prevalent in males who drink beer and pop. Casey does neither. He has never drank any alcohol and does not drink pop. Hmmmmmm... I have now learned how you treat kidney stones that are passable, how you treat those that are not passable, and that it is more than likely once you get a kidney stone, that you are going to get another.

It is now 3:30 a.m. and Casey calls me to say, “my phone is about to go dead, but the CAT scan showed that I have two kidney stones. They say that I can go home shortly, so I called my friend and co-worker, Kimberly, and she is going to pick me up and take me home.” Casey then went on to say that he felt so sorry for his friend, football comrade and hero, Bobby. Shortly after they arrived at the hospital, Bobby got a phone call saying that his best friend since fourth grade had just passed away from an overdose. Casey said he felt so bad, because this big guy who has Casey’s back on and off the field was crying and there was nothing that Casey could do for him at the time. He went on to say that apparently Bobby doesn’t “use,” had come from a bad neighborhood in Chicago, now lives a couple blocks from Casey, has turned his life into good and had been trying to get his friend to stop using. Sometimes, I have learned, even our best intentions don’t always turn out how we want them to. My sympathies to Bobby for his loss. My kudos to Bobby for having Casey’s back one more time. Casey then ended our conversation with “I will call you when I get home.” I told him I loved him and would wait for his call.

What to do until then? I started to write this post to my blog.

At 5:30 a.m., Casey called to say that he is home and needs to go to sleep to get away from the pain. I told him I would call him in the morning. He said that if he felt better and a little more pain free, he might go to his 11:00 game just to watch, not to play. This game, in which he, as he is called by the league as “Deuce Deuce” (because of his love of the number 22 – it’s a Dallas Cowboys thing – need I say anything more than Emmitt Smith!) where he will have to sit and watch. This game where this scrawny little kid runs as one of the best in the league, catching a broken finger eight weeks ago, then a broken thumb the following week, and two weeks later, a concussion. This game where his team is covered by ethnic diversity. This game where the teammates have your back, on and off the field. He’ll watch, just because he wants to be there if he can.

I called him at 7:00 this morning to see how he was doing and to ask the mother’s prerogative question, “Should I come down?” Hey, it is Mother’s Day! It is the one day I don’t have to explain my actions, just because it is my prerogative. “No,” he simply said. “I’ll be fine, plus I’ll probably be sleeping most of the time and there is nothing you can do.” Hmmm... “okay, then,” I answered. “Just promise me you will drink plenty of water. I mean two to four quarts. It will help.” “Yes,” he said. “That is exactly what the doctors told me. I’ll do it if it is what is going to help get these things out. But they said the first one is ready to come down through and it will pass in a day or two. The second is in the intestines and will take probably up to a week. They also told me that passing kidney stones is a lot like childbirth.”

Yes, I thought to myself, it probably is. But once you pass that stone, you don’t get to hold, cuddle, coddle and protect it for the rest of its or your life. Being a mother, that is my prerogative. I get to do just that and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

As for me, for now, I'll stay put. I'll do my mothering from the every-reaching tentacles of my cell phone. But I'm there in a flash if either of my boys needs me -- its my prerogative. I'm a Mother.