Lori Allison's Blog, page 2
May 23, 2018
New York City - Day 4
We got up at 7:00, not because we wanted to but because we would be leaving for home in the afternoon and we had one more thing to do. We were going to the 911 Memorial.
Check out is at 11:00, but we weren’t sure we could get back before that time so Jeff called down to the front desk to ask if we could get a late check out. The response he got was hilarious! The guy at the desk says in his thick Brooklyn accent, “Because it’s you, Mr. Allison, you can have late check out.” How New York is that?
We rode the train to the financial district and walked over to the Memorial. There is a lot of construction going on in the area and we saw a sign saying the building going up is a future World Trade Center addition. Life goes on.
It’s good to remember that because the next couple of hours are completely heart wrenching. We started at the reflecting pools that are built in the footprints of the north and south towers and have the names of all the 911 victims etched into the surrounding rails. All those names. Each belonged to a living, breathing person with family and friends who loved them, lives they were living day to day, plans they had for their futures. Standing on the spot we’ve all seen countless times on tv, watching those planes hit the buildings and the buildings collapse to the ground was very surreal.
We went inside the museum and wandered from level to level. Seeing the pieces of debris from the towers and artifacts from the people who were at work inside the buildings that day caused a huge lump to form in my throat and frustration to burn in my chest at how senseless it all was. The evil it took to end all those lives intentionally is just staggering.
After awhile, we just couldn’t take anymore of it in and we left to go outside into the chilly spring morning. It felt good to breath the fresh air and walk in the sunshine.
We found Trinity Church and the gates were open, so we explored the cemetery, reading the names and dates on the headstones. From the dates on a lot of the graves, we guessed that most of them perished during the Revolutionary War. It was a memorial of a different kind and it was oddly peaceful inside those gates.
We walked on, stopping to buy food from a street vendor. Jeff got a gyro and I went with the cliche and ordered a hot dog. Another thing checked off my New York list!
Then it was time to head back to the hotel, pack up and leave for the airport. New York was fun and exciting, but we were both ready to get back to the wide open spaces of New Mexico. Next stop - HOME!
Until next time, everyone!
Lori
Check out is at 11:00, but we weren’t sure we could get back before that time so Jeff called down to the front desk to ask if we could get a late check out. The response he got was hilarious! The guy at the desk says in his thick Brooklyn accent, “Because it’s you, Mr. Allison, you can have late check out.” How New York is that?
We rode the train to the financial district and walked over to the Memorial. There is a lot of construction going on in the area and we saw a sign saying the building going up is a future World Trade Center addition. Life goes on.
It’s good to remember that because the next couple of hours are completely heart wrenching. We started at the reflecting pools that are built in the footprints of the north and south towers and have the names of all the 911 victims etched into the surrounding rails. All those names. Each belonged to a living, breathing person with family and friends who loved them, lives they were living day to day, plans they had for their futures. Standing on the spot we’ve all seen countless times on tv, watching those planes hit the buildings and the buildings collapse to the ground was very surreal.
We went inside the museum and wandered from level to level. Seeing the pieces of debris from the towers and artifacts from the people who were at work inside the buildings that day caused a huge lump to form in my throat and frustration to burn in my chest at how senseless it all was. The evil it took to end all those lives intentionally is just staggering.
After awhile, we just couldn’t take anymore of it in and we left to go outside into the chilly spring morning. It felt good to breath the fresh air and walk in the sunshine.
We found Trinity Church and the gates were open, so we explored the cemetery, reading the names and dates on the headstones. From the dates on a lot of the graves, we guessed that most of them perished during the Revolutionary War. It was a memorial of a different kind and it was oddly peaceful inside those gates.
We walked on, stopping to buy food from a street vendor. Jeff got a gyro and I went with the cliche and ordered a hot dog. Another thing checked off my New York list!
Then it was time to head back to the hotel, pack up and leave for the airport. New York was fun and exciting, but we were both ready to get back to the wide open spaces of New Mexico. Next stop - HOME!
Until next time, everyone!
Lori
May 21, 2018
New York City - Day 3
The alarm went off at 8:00. We had an appointment with the Marriott Vacation Club salesman at 11:30, and had planned to go have a leisurely breakfast. However, while we were getting ready to go out, the Marriott office called and offered us an earlier time slot, so we sped up and left the hotel to walk a block over to meet with Nick, the representative assigned to us.
We walked in and were offered coffee, water and snacks, then we entered Nick’s office and he jumped into his spiel. Bless his heart, he did his best to convince us that spending $56K up front - with finance options, of course - and $2,400 a year in maintenance fees would save us money on travel for the rest of our lives. Our children could travel with us, thus strengthening our family bond and creating memories we could cherish forever. Just one pesky problem. We don’t have $56,000. The answer was no, but we had to give Nick points for trying.
By the time we left, two hours had passed and it was lunchtime. We found a little deli that served pastas, salads and sandwiches and went in for a bite to eat. We returned to the hotel after lunch where we wasted time playing on our tablets and watching tv. We didn’t have anything else planned until evening, so we allowed ourselves a little rest.
It wasn’t long before we were bored, so we put on shoes and walked to the nearest train station. We rode to 63rd and Park Avenue, and strolled through the rich people’s neighborhoods, then into Central Park. It was almost shocking to see grass and trees after two days of nothing but concrete and asphalt.
We had a nice walk through the park. The sun was out, making it very humid, but it was so much better than the rain from the day before. We were approached by a little monk offering us peace tokens and beads. All he wanted in return for his blessings on us was $80.00. We told him he could keep his beads and blessings and walked on.
We left the park and walked down 5th Avenue, through the diamond district and all its swanky stores. No shopping in this part of town! If we had that kind of money we could’ve signed up for Nick’s vacation program and bought all those happy family moments. We walked until we reached W. 37th street and went up the half block to the hotel. We were back.
It was time to get gussied up for our evening out. We had tickets to see Wicked at the Gershwin Theater. I had packed a dress and suede boots to wear, but changed my mind about the boots with all the deep puddles on the streets. Instead, I put on a pair of dark jeans with a nice blouse and black heels. Jeff wore jeans and a dress shirt with his boots and we called it good enough.
We called for a Lyft and went out front to catch our ride. The car showed up within minutes and we were off, winding through scores of taxis, buses and double parked delivery trucks, our driver laying on the horn the whole way. He got us there with time to spare and we went into the lobby.
The first thing we encountered was the merchandise booth, which is not, technically, a gift shop, but darn close. I may have purchased a couple of things.
It was too early to go to our seats so we wandered around, perusing the pictures on the walls of past performers of the theater and the memorabilia encased in glass boxes. When the doors opened, we went inside, collecting our playbills from the usher on the way to our seats. I had chosen seats in the front mezzanine on the aisle, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back as we sat down. Our view was perfect!
Soon, the lights went down and we were transported to Oz. All I can say about the show is, if you haven’t seen it, SEE IT!
We loved every minute.
After three hours, the performers took their bows and it was time to leave. Since the show was at 7:00 we made the decision to wait until after to go to dinner. 10:00 is a perfectly reasonable dinner time in New York. In his playbill, Jeff had spotted an advertisement for a restaurant called Glass House Tavern. He wanted to go there because the ad showed a picture of seared tuna which made him crave it. We looked up the address and it was only five blocks away.
Five blocks isn’t far when you’re wearing walking shoes, but in heels it seemed like quite a distance. But it just felt silly to hail a cab or call for a Lyft to go five blocks, so we walked, with me holding onto Jeff’s arm to keep from breaking an ankle on the uneven concrete. We made it but I was ready to sit down by the time we got there.
We’re not used to eating that late at night, so we opted for appetizers, which was fortunate because Jeff’s tuna was on the appetizer menu. I got a crab cake and a peach martini with Jeff going for the blood orange martini. I also ordered the warm chocolate cake. Jeff skipped dessert, and I probably should have, but I ate every bite and didn’t regret it a bit!
We caught a ride back to the hotel and I kicked off those shoes first thing. We had had another exciting but long day and it was time for bed.
More to come!
Lori 👠🎟
We walked in and were offered coffee, water and snacks, then we entered Nick’s office and he jumped into his spiel. Bless his heart, he did his best to convince us that spending $56K up front - with finance options, of course - and $2,400 a year in maintenance fees would save us money on travel for the rest of our lives. Our children could travel with us, thus strengthening our family bond and creating memories we could cherish forever. Just one pesky problem. We don’t have $56,000. The answer was no, but we had to give Nick points for trying.
By the time we left, two hours had passed and it was lunchtime. We found a little deli that served pastas, salads and sandwiches and went in for a bite to eat. We returned to the hotel after lunch where we wasted time playing on our tablets and watching tv. We didn’t have anything else planned until evening, so we allowed ourselves a little rest.
It wasn’t long before we were bored, so we put on shoes and walked to the nearest train station. We rode to 63rd and Park Avenue, and strolled through the rich people’s neighborhoods, then into Central Park. It was almost shocking to see grass and trees after two days of nothing but concrete and asphalt.
We had a nice walk through the park. The sun was out, making it very humid, but it was so much better than the rain from the day before. We were approached by a little monk offering us peace tokens and beads. All he wanted in return for his blessings on us was $80.00. We told him he could keep his beads and blessings and walked on.
We left the park and walked down 5th Avenue, through the diamond district and all its swanky stores. No shopping in this part of town! If we had that kind of money we could’ve signed up for Nick’s vacation program and bought all those happy family moments. We walked until we reached W. 37th street and went up the half block to the hotel. We were back.
It was time to get gussied up for our evening out. We had tickets to see Wicked at the Gershwin Theater. I had packed a dress and suede boots to wear, but changed my mind about the boots with all the deep puddles on the streets. Instead, I put on a pair of dark jeans with a nice blouse and black heels. Jeff wore jeans and a dress shirt with his boots and we called it good enough.
We called for a Lyft and went out front to catch our ride. The car showed up within minutes and we were off, winding through scores of taxis, buses and double parked delivery trucks, our driver laying on the horn the whole way. He got us there with time to spare and we went into the lobby.
The first thing we encountered was the merchandise booth, which is not, technically, a gift shop, but darn close. I may have purchased a couple of things.
It was too early to go to our seats so we wandered around, perusing the pictures on the walls of past performers of the theater and the memorabilia encased in glass boxes. When the doors opened, we went inside, collecting our playbills from the usher on the way to our seats. I had chosen seats in the front mezzanine on the aisle, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back as we sat down. Our view was perfect!
Soon, the lights went down and we were transported to Oz. All I can say about the show is, if you haven’t seen it, SEE IT!
We loved every minute.
After three hours, the performers took their bows and it was time to leave. Since the show was at 7:00 we made the decision to wait until after to go to dinner. 10:00 is a perfectly reasonable dinner time in New York. In his playbill, Jeff had spotted an advertisement for a restaurant called Glass House Tavern. He wanted to go there because the ad showed a picture of seared tuna which made him crave it. We looked up the address and it was only five blocks away.
Five blocks isn’t far when you’re wearing walking shoes, but in heels it seemed like quite a distance. But it just felt silly to hail a cab or call for a Lyft to go five blocks, so we walked, with me holding onto Jeff’s arm to keep from breaking an ankle on the uneven concrete. We made it but I was ready to sit down by the time we got there.
We’re not used to eating that late at night, so we opted for appetizers, which was fortunate because Jeff’s tuna was on the appetizer menu. I got a crab cake and a peach martini with Jeff going for the blood orange martini. I also ordered the warm chocolate cake. Jeff skipped dessert, and I probably should have, but I ate every bite and didn’t regret it a bit!
We caught a ride back to the hotel and I kicked off those shoes first thing. We had had another exciting but long day and it was time for bed.
More to come!
Lori 👠🎟
May 20, 2018
New York City - Day 2
We rose at 9:00 am (7:00 am according to our body clocks), showered and dressed, and headed out in the rain to the subway station three blocks over. Thankfully, we had thought ahead and brought umbrellas although, if we hadn’t, there is someone on every street corner selling them.
We had tickets for the Statue of Liberty so we rode the subway to Battery Park - and here’s where things went wrong. See, someone had told me that you could take the Staten Island ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, and it would be free. Now, I like a freebie as much as the next gal, so we headed for the humongous building right in front of us and went in, arriving just in time to catch the ferry.
We boarded and settled happily into our seats, ready to go! And we went. Soon, there she was, Lady Liberty, in all her green glory! We snapped pictures and waited for the ferry to turn toward the statue so we could get off and explore. Well, that didn’t happen. Jeff finally said, “I think were on the wrong boat. I think this one only goes to Staten Island.” He was right, of course. My information wasn’t exactly wrong. We did see the Statue of Liberty, albeit from a distance.
But, all was not lost! We exited the ferry on Staten Island and immediately boarded the one making the return trip to Manhattan. When it arrived, we jumped off and ran (no kidding, folks, I ran) to the boarding area for the ferry going to the Statue. We were well past the time on our tickets, but the nice lady at the ticket booth said it didn’t matter, so we joined the crowd climbing aboard the CORRECT ferry and, away we went!
The Statue is quite a sight, even in the rain, although it sucked to have to look up to see all of her and get a face full of rain water for my trouble. We had pedestal passes and joined the queue of people waiting to go inside. The queue was in the gift shop. Any of you who have read about my other travels know of my weakness for gift shops. It was all I could do not to hop out of line and start shopping. However, Jeff herded me forward and we came to a big room with a ginormous torch in the center. A replica of the one high above us, but impressive just the same! Then - there were stairs. So many stairs. 195 to be exact. We climbed and climbed and the whole time I’m thinking, “Whatever’s up here better be pretty frickin’ awesome!” Folks, I gotta be honest. It was not. It was not even a little bit awesome. The winds were at gale force, blowing so hard my umbrella kept turning itself inside out. There was so much fog we couldn’t enjoy the view. I had climbed so many stairs, I could feel my brain pulsing in time with my heart beats. I don’t even want to talk about what the wind and humidity had done to my hair. I said to Jeffery, “How about we go inside to the museum,” and took off without waiting for his answer.
The museum gives you the option of touring at your own pace and reading all the placards yourself or letting the little speaker thingy they give you read everything for you. Jeff opted to read, and I didn’t really give a rat’s behind, so I wandered around, reading about what interested me while Jeff soaked up every word. No kidding, people. If New Mexico wants its own Statue of Liberty, Jeff can build it! He knows how it was done. It wasn’t long before I had seen everything I needed to see and found myself a patch of floor to sit on. Now, I don’t consider myself a trend setter or anything, but within a couple of minutes five other exhausted people were collapsing around me. I’m pretty sure they all had pedestal passes too.
Jeff finally caught up to me and we returned to the dock to board the ferry to Ellis Island. This was more in my wheel house. People stories, and what stories they were! My favorite concerned a young girl who was detained at Ellis Island and given a “standard” intelligence test. They were asking some people basic math questions but when they came to her they asked, “How would you wash a flight of stairs, from the bottom or the top?” She answered, “I do not come to America to wash stairs.”
After a thorough exploration of the building at Ellis Island, we went back to Manhattan. Jeff had three places he really wanted to see. The first was Fraunces Tavern, which was the Inn that Washington stayed in during the Revolutionary War and the place he said good-bye to his troops from. We were starving and decided to have an early dinner in the Tavern. We were seated in front of the windows in the dark tavern and our waiter brought us menus. It was at that moment that I realized how old I am. I told Jeff, “That kid would be so nice looking if he didn’t have a man-bun.” Yep. I’m old. A good looking guy is standing in front of me and all I can think is, “he should cut his hair.” And, of course, he was no Jeffery Allison. Not even close.
Man Bun took our order, a burger for Jeff and lobster Mac and cheese for me, then he disappeared, never to be seen again. Maybe he was afraid I would saw off his bun with my butter knife. He was replaced by a super efficient young lady with a completely appropriate hair style. Dinner was delicious but our plan had been to eat, then tour the museum contained in the building. Unfortunately, it had closed while we were eating.
So, we were off to our next destination, The Bronze Bull. Jeff wanted a picture with it. We walked a couple of blocks and found the big bronze statue that represents the financial district of New York with a short line of people waiting to take pictures with it. We waited our turn and Jeff posed next to it while I snapped his picture. Most everyone posing with The Bull simply stood next to it, maybe grabbed the horns, but we witnessed a couple of women molesting The Bull in a way that definitely violated his personal boundaries. Poor Bull, #metoo.
The third place on Jeff’s list was Trinity Church which has a very old cemetery within its gated area. I really wanted to wander around that graveyard but the gates were already locked for the day. I stuck my camera through the bars and took some pictures but I couldn’t read anything on the grave stones.
We had planned to go check out Times Square after dark and night was approaching so we decided to walk the ten or so blocks instead of taking the subway. The closer we got, the heavier the sidewalk traffic became. Mind you, it had been raining on us the entire day, and we discovered that trying to maneuver around the hordes of people in Times Square, each carrying his or her own umbrella is nearly impossible and quite dangerous. We’re lucky neither of us lost an eye.
We did a little shopping and a lot of people watching in Times Square before deciding we’d had enough. We set off toward the hotel, which was about another ten blocks away, stopping once at the bakery for more adagios. It was with great relief that we finally reached the hotel and got inside our room where no water was falling on us from overhead. It was still fairly early, so we thought we’d go up to that rooftop bar that we had rejected the night before. We put on dry clothes and rode the elevator up to the roof, stepped out and saw that a large section of the glass cover over the bar was open. We both said, “Nope!” and returned to our room where we, again, ate pastries and watched tv. Good times!
More to come!
Lori 🌂
We had tickets for the Statue of Liberty so we rode the subway to Battery Park - and here’s where things went wrong. See, someone had told me that you could take the Staten Island ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, and it would be free. Now, I like a freebie as much as the next gal, so we headed for the humongous building right in front of us and went in, arriving just in time to catch the ferry.
We boarded and settled happily into our seats, ready to go! And we went. Soon, there she was, Lady Liberty, in all her green glory! We snapped pictures and waited for the ferry to turn toward the statue so we could get off and explore. Well, that didn’t happen. Jeff finally said, “I think were on the wrong boat. I think this one only goes to Staten Island.” He was right, of course. My information wasn’t exactly wrong. We did see the Statue of Liberty, albeit from a distance.
But, all was not lost! We exited the ferry on Staten Island and immediately boarded the one making the return trip to Manhattan. When it arrived, we jumped off and ran (no kidding, folks, I ran) to the boarding area for the ferry going to the Statue. We were well past the time on our tickets, but the nice lady at the ticket booth said it didn’t matter, so we joined the crowd climbing aboard the CORRECT ferry and, away we went!
The Statue is quite a sight, even in the rain, although it sucked to have to look up to see all of her and get a face full of rain water for my trouble. We had pedestal passes and joined the queue of people waiting to go inside. The queue was in the gift shop. Any of you who have read about my other travels know of my weakness for gift shops. It was all I could do not to hop out of line and start shopping. However, Jeff herded me forward and we came to a big room with a ginormous torch in the center. A replica of the one high above us, but impressive just the same! Then - there were stairs. So many stairs. 195 to be exact. We climbed and climbed and the whole time I’m thinking, “Whatever’s up here better be pretty frickin’ awesome!” Folks, I gotta be honest. It was not. It was not even a little bit awesome. The winds were at gale force, blowing so hard my umbrella kept turning itself inside out. There was so much fog we couldn’t enjoy the view. I had climbed so many stairs, I could feel my brain pulsing in time with my heart beats. I don’t even want to talk about what the wind and humidity had done to my hair. I said to Jeffery, “How about we go inside to the museum,” and took off without waiting for his answer.
The museum gives you the option of touring at your own pace and reading all the placards yourself or letting the little speaker thingy they give you read everything for you. Jeff opted to read, and I didn’t really give a rat’s behind, so I wandered around, reading about what interested me while Jeff soaked up every word. No kidding, people. If New Mexico wants its own Statue of Liberty, Jeff can build it! He knows how it was done. It wasn’t long before I had seen everything I needed to see and found myself a patch of floor to sit on. Now, I don’t consider myself a trend setter or anything, but within a couple of minutes five other exhausted people were collapsing around me. I’m pretty sure they all had pedestal passes too.
Jeff finally caught up to me and we returned to the dock to board the ferry to Ellis Island. This was more in my wheel house. People stories, and what stories they were! My favorite concerned a young girl who was detained at Ellis Island and given a “standard” intelligence test. They were asking some people basic math questions but when they came to her they asked, “How would you wash a flight of stairs, from the bottom or the top?” She answered, “I do not come to America to wash stairs.”
After a thorough exploration of the building at Ellis Island, we went back to Manhattan. Jeff had three places he really wanted to see. The first was Fraunces Tavern, which was the Inn that Washington stayed in during the Revolutionary War and the place he said good-bye to his troops from. We were starving and decided to have an early dinner in the Tavern. We were seated in front of the windows in the dark tavern and our waiter brought us menus. It was at that moment that I realized how old I am. I told Jeff, “That kid would be so nice looking if he didn’t have a man-bun.” Yep. I’m old. A good looking guy is standing in front of me and all I can think is, “he should cut his hair.” And, of course, he was no Jeffery Allison. Not even close.
Man Bun took our order, a burger for Jeff and lobster Mac and cheese for me, then he disappeared, never to be seen again. Maybe he was afraid I would saw off his bun with my butter knife. He was replaced by a super efficient young lady with a completely appropriate hair style. Dinner was delicious but our plan had been to eat, then tour the museum contained in the building. Unfortunately, it had closed while we were eating.
So, we were off to our next destination, The Bronze Bull. Jeff wanted a picture with it. We walked a couple of blocks and found the big bronze statue that represents the financial district of New York with a short line of people waiting to take pictures with it. We waited our turn and Jeff posed next to it while I snapped his picture. Most everyone posing with The Bull simply stood next to it, maybe grabbed the horns, but we witnessed a couple of women molesting The Bull in a way that definitely violated his personal boundaries. Poor Bull, #metoo.
The third place on Jeff’s list was Trinity Church which has a very old cemetery within its gated area. I really wanted to wander around that graveyard but the gates were already locked for the day. I stuck my camera through the bars and took some pictures but I couldn’t read anything on the grave stones.
We had planned to go check out Times Square after dark and night was approaching so we decided to walk the ten or so blocks instead of taking the subway. The closer we got, the heavier the sidewalk traffic became. Mind you, it had been raining on us the entire day, and we discovered that trying to maneuver around the hordes of people in Times Square, each carrying his or her own umbrella is nearly impossible and quite dangerous. We’re lucky neither of us lost an eye.
We did a little shopping and a lot of people watching in Times Square before deciding we’d had enough. We set off toward the hotel, which was about another ten blocks away, stopping once at the bakery for more adagios. It was with great relief that we finally reached the hotel and got inside our room where no water was falling on us from overhead. It was still fairly early, so we thought we’d go up to that rooftop bar that we had rejected the night before. We put on dry clothes and rode the elevator up to the roof, stepped out and saw that a large section of the glass cover over the bar was open. We both said, “Nope!” and returned to our room where we, again, ate pastries and watched tv. Good times!
More to come!
Lori 🌂
May 19, 2018
New York City - Day 1
Hello friends! It’s that time again. The world’s worst traveler has set off on another adventure, this time to New York!
Jeff and I take three days to go away together for our anniversary each year. Usually we rent a condo in Durango where we spend our time laying around in our sweats, watching movies and eating junk food. This year, for our 27th Anniversary, we decided to get out of our rut and go some place new and different. New York is pretty different!
Our day started at 4:00 am at the Holiday Inn & Suites in Albuquerque. We had driven to ABQ the day before so Jeff could get a flight physical for work, and so we wouldn’t have to leave our house at 2:00 in the morning to catch our flight, which was at 6:00 am. Neither of us enjoys being up before the sun, so we dressed and packed up with very few words between us. Since Jeff had TSA pre-check (which he lorded over me a bit) and I did not, Jeff dropped me at the airport and I went to the counter to check my bag and stand in the security line with the rest of the suspicious characters while he parked the car, rode the van over and breezed through the security line reserved for special people. Once I was through security, I made a bee line to Black Mesa Coffee, slurped down enough caffeine to unlock my tongue, and the day started to look up.
Our flight left on time, we changed planes in Dallas, and we landed at LaGuardia only twenty minutes behind schedule. Jeff got on his phone and ordered a Lyft and we wound our way through the airport to the parking garage where our driver was waiting.
By the time we got in the car, it was around 4:00 pm - rush hour! During our hour long ride from the airport into Manhattan, Jeff and the driver discussed every aspect of the cost of living for a young immigrant from Bangladesh, trying to get ahead driving for Lyft in New York City. Jeff’s advice after hearing what this young man’s expenses are every month? Move!
We reached our hotel in mid-town, the Marriott Pulse on W. 37th, got checked in and found our room. Nice place, even if the room is a bit on the small side. We were discussing what we might go out and do, and switched on the tv (mostly out of habit). Every channel was broadcasting that a major thunderstorm was settling over Manhattan. A peek out the window showed us rain was coming down in torrents. Great! Given those circumstances, a short nap seemed to be in order. Soon the rain stopped and our tummies were growling. We had not eaten a proper meal all day, so Jeff looked up what our dining options were in the surrounding blocks. We settled on a place called Tonchin one block over. It is a ramen restaurant. If you’re like me, the only ramen you’ve ever had comes in a bag with a little flavor packet and is a culinary staple for broke college kids. I can report that there is a version of ramen that is elevated so high above those little dry noodle packets they are not even in the same stratosphere! Jeff and I both went with the waitress’s recommendation, which was an excellent decision. She brought us each a huge bowl filled with those familiar looking noodles, but they were swimming in a brown broth that was so yummy I wished she would bring me a mug of it to drink. Joining those noodles in the broth were large pieces of pork, mushrooms, shallots and half an egg. My advice to anyone reading this is don’t turn up your nose when you have the opportunity to have ramen! You’ll love it!
Walking back to the hotel, we passed a bakery and, well, we felt it would be wrong not to go inside. Minutes later, we emerged with a bag containing an Adagio for each of us. An adagio is a disk the size of a hockey puck made of chocolate mousse with a passion fruit center. How do you pass that up? Well, you don’t!
Back in our room, we contemplated going up to the roof top bar for a drink, but couldn’t work up any real enthusiasm for the idea, so we sat on the bed eating dessert while watching The Voice. We had to keep up tradition at least in a small way. Then, it was lights out.
More to come!
Lori ❤️
Jeff and I take three days to go away together for our anniversary each year. Usually we rent a condo in Durango where we spend our time laying around in our sweats, watching movies and eating junk food. This year, for our 27th Anniversary, we decided to get out of our rut and go some place new and different. New York is pretty different!
Our day started at 4:00 am at the Holiday Inn & Suites in Albuquerque. We had driven to ABQ the day before so Jeff could get a flight physical for work, and so we wouldn’t have to leave our house at 2:00 in the morning to catch our flight, which was at 6:00 am. Neither of us enjoys being up before the sun, so we dressed and packed up with very few words between us. Since Jeff had TSA pre-check (which he lorded over me a bit) and I did not, Jeff dropped me at the airport and I went to the counter to check my bag and stand in the security line with the rest of the suspicious characters while he parked the car, rode the van over and breezed through the security line reserved for special people. Once I was through security, I made a bee line to Black Mesa Coffee, slurped down enough caffeine to unlock my tongue, and the day started to look up.
Our flight left on time, we changed planes in Dallas, and we landed at LaGuardia only twenty minutes behind schedule. Jeff got on his phone and ordered a Lyft and we wound our way through the airport to the parking garage where our driver was waiting.
By the time we got in the car, it was around 4:00 pm - rush hour! During our hour long ride from the airport into Manhattan, Jeff and the driver discussed every aspect of the cost of living for a young immigrant from Bangladesh, trying to get ahead driving for Lyft in New York City. Jeff’s advice after hearing what this young man’s expenses are every month? Move!
We reached our hotel in mid-town, the Marriott Pulse on W. 37th, got checked in and found our room. Nice place, even if the room is a bit on the small side. We were discussing what we might go out and do, and switched on the tv (mostly out of habit). Every channel was broadcasting that a major thunderstorm was settling over Manhattan. A peek out the window showed us rain was coming down in torrents. Great! Given those circumstances, a short nap seemed to be in order. Soon the rain stopped and our tummies were growling. We had not eaten a proper meal all day, so Jeff looked up what our dining options were in the surrounding blocks. We settled on a place called Tonchin one block over. It is a ramen restaurant. If you’re like me, the only ramen you’ve ever had comes in a bag with a little flavor packet and is a culinary staple for broke college kids. I can report that there is a version of ramen that is elevated so high above those little dry noodle packets they are not even in the same stratosphere! Jeff and I both went with the waitress’s recommendation, which was an excellent decision. She brought us each a huge bowl filled with those familiar looking noodles, but they were swimming in a brown broth that was so yummy I wished she would bring me a mug of it to drink. Joining those noodles in the broth were large pieces of pork, mushrooms, shallots and half an egg. My advice to anyone reading this is don’t turn up your nose when you have the opportunity to have ramen! You’ll love it!
Walking back to the hotel, we passed a bakery and, well, we felt it would be wrong not to go inside. Minutes later, we emerged with a bag containing an Adagio for each of us. An adagio is a disk the size of a hockey puck made of chocolate mousse with a passion fruit center. How do you pass that up? Well, you don’t!
Back in our room, we contemplated going up to the roof top bar for a drink, but couldn’t work up any real enthusiasm for the idea, so we sat on the bed eating dessert while watching The Voice. We had to keep up tradition at least in a small way. Then, it was lights out.
More to come!
Lori ❤️
April 18, 2018
AIRPORTS, PLANES AND BEACHES
I recently went to work with my husband. Now, when I say I went to work with him you
probably pictured me driving in to an office building somewhere, sitting in a corner of a stuffy room while he, decked out in a suit and tie, made phone calls, took meetings and did important things that I didn’t understand. Ummm, no.
Going to work with my husband means packing a bag, making sure I have plenty of books loaded onto my Kindle and a large bottle of Ibuprophen on hand for my sore butt. I’m the wife of an airline pilot.
It’s a very rare event for me to accompany Jeff on one of his trips. I’m a homebody. I like my own space, my own stuff and, most significantly, I like to stay on the ground. Jeff and I are opposites. I like knowing what’s going to happen in my day. I don’t deal well with surprises. I’m a planner. In other words, I’m an uptight bore. Jeff, on the other hand, is one of those people I admire who rolls with whatever is happening, is at home wherever he is, and is ready for whatever the day brings. He’s everything I wish I was. I would hate him if I didn’t love him so much.
The reason I agreed to go on this trip is because, well, he asked me to go, but also because he was scheduled for two long overnights at beach locations. He would have 18 hours in Fort Lauderdale the second day and 18 hours in San Juan, Puerto Rico the third day. 18 hours is an extremely long time for him to remain in one place, so he thought we could have a little mini vacation. After some hemming and hawing and obsessive checking of the airline website to make sure I would have a seat on all the flights, (I am allowed on the flights as long as a paying passenger doesn’t need my seat, then I’m booted off) I agreed to go.
On day one the plan was for me to drive from our house to Albuquerque where I would meet up with him around midnight. Turns out, his first day was cancelled due to his commuter flights from the Durango Airport being delayed and causing him to have to give up his trips for that day. He wound up driving to Albuquerque with me so he could catch up with his trip the next day. Trips to Albuquerque are great because we are able to spend a little time with family. We went to breakfast with my in-laws and one of Jeff’s brothers and had a lovely morning visiting with them.
We left for the airport in plenty of time for me to go through security and for Jeff to leave our car in long-term parking. Even though he dropped me off at the curb to give me a head start, he still beat me to the secured gate area.
An interesting phenomenon happens at this point. My husband undergoes a visible transition from my goofy, fun-loving Jeff to Captain Allison, responsible, dependable, unflappable representative of Southwest Airlines. It’s not just the uniform, although he looks very official and formidable in his pressed white shirt and black pants, patriotic tie and captain’s bars. Looking at him, I am reminded that Jeff has a very serious job, that the lives of his passengers and fellow crew members depend on him making the right decisions and performing his duties skillfully.
I accompany Captain Allison to the gate where he disappears down the jetway to the plane. I board a little later, and he introduces me as his wife to all the flight attendants, lifts my bag into the overhead for me and, after giving me a little kiss, goes back to the front of the plane to prepare for our flight.
We land in Dallas and, after a 3 hour wait while Jeff and his crew do a round trip to Lubbock, we head for Fort Lauderdale. The weather is tricky. Jeff announces to the passengers that we will have to go around a line of thunderstorms, adding about an hour to our flight time and to expect the flight to be pretty bumpy. It was, but the Lord sure did give us a beautiful light show as we looked down on the clouds with the lightning flashing within them.
The next morning we walked out of the hotel and onto the beach. Fort Lauderdale was hot and humid and the beach was packed with people of all ages in bathing suits lying in the sun, playing in the surf and having tons of fun. Jeff and I walked down the beach with our feet getting wet as the waves came in. We stopped for lunch at Bubba Gump’s and ate way too much shrimp, if that’s even possible. I mean, how much shrimp is too much? We dawdled on the way back, taking the route near the docks so we could admire all the boats. Then, it was back to the room to gather up, catch the van to the airport and board another plane, this time bound for Puerto Rico!
We arrived in San Juan around 9:00 pm and were taken by van to the Intercontinental Resort. Wow, what a beautiful place! I’ve already decided we will need to come back when we can spend more time.
In the elevator on the way to our room, Jeff mentioned that we would congregate in the lobby after we freshened up so we could go to the bar. We noticed that the couple sharing the elevator with us was staring at Jeff, who was still in his uniform. Jeff cleared his throat and said, “I mean, we’ll meet in the lobby so we can go to church. We want to be on time for church!” They laughed, and we found out that they were travelling out with us the next day. We changed clothes, met up with Jeff’s flight crew and walked down the beach to a little open-air bar and restaurant that most of the crew were familiar with. It is a charming, unpretentious little place called Alambique where the drinks are served in plastic cups and the menu is heavy on the finger food. The perfect place to relax after a long day.
Our dinner companions, the first officer and flight attendants we had flown with that day, were wonderful company and I sat back, sipped my rum punch and listened while they shared hilarious stories of the trials and perils of working for the airline. The quesadillas I ordered were excellent and I felt it was only right to order a pina colada to wash them down. One of the flight attendants ordered one as well, but changed her mind after it was served, so I drank hers too. Really, what choice did I have? I couldn’t let it go to waste!
When the time came to go back to the resort, it was raining. We walked back in the rain, and said goodnight to the crew, some of whom weren’t ready to call it a night. Jeff and I had had enough, though, and we toddled off to bed.
We woke up to sunshine and dressed quickly. Jeff and I sat near the water, taking in the view while having our morning caffeine. We ate breakfast at the resort and enjoyed a nice chat with our waitress, Ida, who lives on the Island. She told us about how the restoration after the hurricane was going, how there are still so many without power and clean water, but that things are much better than they were.
Because I would have to go through security at the airport, we were advised to show up three hours prior to the flight time. Jeff thought this was crazy, but after consulting with one of the gate agents, decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Of course, it only took about 20 minutes to get through – apparently we beat the cruise ship crowd – but that gave us plenty of time to get a bite to eat. I learned from Jeff that you eat whenever the opportunity presents itself because you never know when the next time will be. Not a problem for me, just say the word food and point me toward it. I learned the wisdom of this philosophy after we landed in Orlando. I stayed on the plane and Jeff got off to get food. When he came back he handed me a sack from McDonalds. I was opening the bag, the fragrance of fries and cheeseburgers permeating the air inside the plane, when a lady seated behind me asked why the airline doesn’t sell food. I explained to her that it is a no-frills airline and peanuts and pretzels are the only food items given out on their flights. She looked so crestfallen that I offered her one of my cheeseburgers. I’m pretty sure we are life-long friends now.
Our day finally ended after 12 hours with three flights totaling 8 ½ hours in the air. I was exhausted and a little (maybe a lot) cranky, but my respect and admiration for Jeff and for the job he and his co-workers perform everyday had grown by leaps and bounds. The beaches were lovely, I met some amazing people and travelled thousands of miles, but it will be awhile before I go to work with him again. Hats off to you, Captain Allison. Now, take me home!
probably pictured me driving in to an office building somewhere, sitting in a corner of a stuffy room while he, decked out in a suit and tie, made phone calls, took meetings and did important things that I didn’t understand. Ummm, no.
Going to work with my husband means packing a bag, making sure I have plenty of books loaded onto my Kindle and a large bottle of Ibuprophen on hand for my sore butt. I’m the wife of an airline pilot.
It’s a very rare event for me to accompany Jeff on one of his trips. I’m a homebody. I like my own space, my own stuff and, most significantly, I like to stay on the ground. Jeff and I are opposites. I like knowing what’s going to happen in my day. I don’t deal well with surprises. I’m a planner. In other words, I’m an uptight bore. Jeff, on the other hand, is one of those people I admire who rolls with whatever is happening, is at home wherever he is, and is ready for whatever the day brings. He’s everything I wish I was. I would hate him if I didn’t love him so much.
The reason I agreed to go on this trip is because, well, he asked me to go, but also because he was scheduled for two long overnights at beach locations. He would have 18 hours in Fort Lauderdale the second day and 18 hours in San Juan, Puerto Rico the third day. 18 hours is an extremely long time for him to remain in one place, so he thought we could have a little mini vacation. After some hemming and hawing and obsessive checking of the airline website to make sure I would have a seat on all the flights, (I am allowed on the flights as long as a paying passenger doesn’t need my seat, then I’m booted off) I agreed to go.
On day one the plan was for me to drive from our house to Albuquerque where I would meet up with him around midnight. Turns out, his first day was cancelled due to his commuter flights from the Durango Airport being delayed and causing him to have to give up his trips for that day. He wound up driving to Albuquerque with me so he could catch up with his trip the next day. Trips to Albuquerque are great because we are able to spend a little time with family. We went to breakfast with my in-laws and one of Jeff’s brothers and had a lovely morning visiting with them.
We left for the airport in plenty of time for me to go through security and for Jeff to leave our car in long-term parking. Even though he dropped me off at the curb to give me a head start, he still beat me to the secured gate area.
An interesting phenomenon happens at this point. My husband undergoes a visible transition from my goofy, fun-loving Jeff to Captain Allison, responsible, dependable, unflappable representative of Southwest Airlines. It’s not just the uniform, although he looks very official and formidable in his pressed white shirt and black pants, patriotic tie and captain’s bars. Looking at him, I am reminded that Jeff has a very serious job, that the lives of his passengers and fellow crew members depend on him making the right decisions and performing his duties skillfully.
I accompany Captain Allison to the gate where he disappears down the jetway to the plane. I board a little later, and he introduces me as his wife to all the flight attendants, lifts my bag into the overhead for me and, after giving me a little kiss, goes back to the front of the plane to prepare for our flight.
We land in Dallas and, after a 3 hour wait while Jeff and his crew do a round trip to Lubbock, we head for Fort Lauderdale. The weather is tricky. Jeff announces to the passengers that we will have to go around a line of thunderstorms, adding about an hour to our flight time and to expect the flight to be pretty bumpy. It was, but the Lord sure did give us a beautiful light show as we looked down on the clouds with the lightning flashing within them.
The next morning we walked out of the hotel and onto the beach. Fort Lauderdale was hot and humid and the beach was packed with people of all ages in bathing suits lying in the sun, playing in the surf and having tons of fun. Jeff and I walked down the beach with our feet getting wet as the waves came in. We stopped for lunch at Bubba Gump’s and ate way too much shrimp, if that’s even possible. I mean, how much shrimp is too much? We dawdled on the way back, taking the route near the docks so we could admire all the boats. Then, it was back to the room to gather up, catch the van to the airport and board another plane, this time bound for Puerto Rico!
We arrived in San Juan around 9:00 pm and were taken by van to the Intercontinental Resort. Wow, what a beautiful place! I’ve already decided we will need to come back when we can spend more time.
In the elevator on the way to our room, Jeff mentioned that we would congregate in the lobby after we freshened up so we could go to the bar. We noticed that the couple sharing the elevator with us was staring at Jeff, who was still in his uniform. Jeff cleared his throat and said, “I mean, we’ll meet in the lobby so we can go to church. We want to be on time for church!” They laughed, and we found out that they were travelling out with us the next day. We changed clothes, met up with Jeff’s flight crew and walked down the beach to a little open-air bar and restaurant that most of the crew were familiar with. It is a charming, unpretentious little place called Alambique where the drinks are served in plastic cups and the menu is heavy on the finger food. The perfect place to relax after a long day.
Our dinner companions, the first officer and flight attendants we had flown with that day, were wonderful company and I sat back, sipped my rum punch and listened while they shared hilarious stories of the trials and perils of working for the airline. The quesadillas I ordered were excellent and I felt it was only right to order a pina colada to wash them down. One of the flight attendants ordered one as well, but changed her mind after it was served, so I drank hers too. Really, what choice did I have? I couldn’t let it go to waste!
When the time came to go back to the resort, it was raining. We walked back in the rain, and said goodnight to the crew, some of whom weren’t ready to call it a night. Jeff and I had had enough, though, and we toddled off to bed.
We woke up to sunshine and dressed quickly. Jeff and I sat near the water, taking in the view while having our morning caffeine. We ate breakfast at the resort and enjoyed a nice chat with our waitress, Ida, who lives on the Island. She told us about how the restoration after the hurricane was going, how there are still so many without power and clean water, but that things are much better than they were.
Because I would have to go through security at the airport, we were advised to show up three hours prior to the flight time. Jeff thought this was crazy, but after consulting with one of the gate agents, decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Of course, it only took about 20 minutes to get through – apparently we beat the cruise ship crowd – but that gave us plenty of time to get a bite to eat. I learned from Jeff that you eat whenever the opportunity presents itself because you never know when the next time will be. Not a problem for me, just say the word food and point me toward it. I learned the wisdom of this philosophy after we landed in Orlando. I stayed on the plane and Jeff got off to get food. When he came back he handed me a sack from McDonalds. I was opening the bag, the fragrance of fries and cheeseburgers permeating the air inside the plane, when a lady seated behind me asked why the airline doesn’t sell food. I explained to her that it is a no-frills airline and peanuts and pretzels are the only food items given out on their flights. She looked so crestfallen that I offered her one of my cheeseburgers. I’m pretty sure we are life-long friends now.
Our day finally ended after 12 hours with three flights totaling 8 ½ hours in the air. I was exhausted and a little (maybe a lot) cranky, but my respect and admiration for Jeff and for the job he and his co-workers perform everyday had grown by leaps and bounds. The beaches were lovely, I met some amazing people and travelled thousands of miles, but it will be awhile before I go to work with him again. Hats off to you, Captain Allison. Now, take me home!
March 7, 2018
Sick Day
I'm sick.
It began a few days ago with a light-headed fuzzy feeling and some congestion in my chest, quickly morphing into a rattley cough, streaming eyes, fever, chills and general misery.
I haven't been out of my pajamas for days and my son and I are existing on whatever take-out food I can convince him to go and pick up.
What I long for most is to sleep; to wrap my achy body in a warm blanket and sink into oblivion until this all passes over. I want a nap. Not too much to ask for, right? In a normal house that would be true, but I can't have a nap. Why? Because of THEM.
I'm referring to the six furry, demanding creatures who share my home with my husband and me. You heard me right. I did say six. Jeffery and I have four dogs, and our son recently moved onto our property with his two dogs.
I'll introduce you to our furry herd by giving you a short bio of each. First, there's 16 year old Trevor, white Chihuahua, completely deaf, sleeps a lot, but has some bladder control issues. Requires constant supervision unless one wishes to spend the entire day Swiffering up his oopsies.
Then, there is Ben, aka Beagle Butt, aka Silly Beagle, 12 year old Beagle (duh), almost completely deaf, thyroid issues requiring medication. Very fat. Exists under the belief that he owns the house and everything in it.
Next is Scarlett, 9 year old Golden Retriever mix. Scarlett is a former shelter dog with some severe abuse in her background. She has anxiety issues which make her very clingy and very barky. She is the cause of all the scratches and scars on my arms.
Then we have Penny, 6 year old brown Chihuahua. Small dog, big attitude. Another shelter alum who spent some time on the mean streets before coming to us. She is the canine equivalent of the honey badger. Penny don't care.
The first of the granddogs is 8 year old Chloe, a tri-colored dachshund with duck feet and no regard for personal space. She can dismember and disembowel any fuzzy stuffed dog toy in under an hour.
And, there's Murdock. He is a 2 year old blind Pit Bull named after Matt Murdock, the alter-ego of the blind superhero, Daredevil. Undeterred by his disability, he is a whirlwind of constant, destructive energy.
Trying to get a nap goes something like this. I settle on to my bed with my favorite napping blanket. As soon as my eyes close, a pitiful whine comes from the floor next to the bed. Penny wants up. Our bed is tall and Penny is small, so I crawl out from under my blanket and get out of bed, pick her up and deposit her onto the mattress. She noses her way under the blanket, scratching and turning circles until she is certain she is in the perfect spot and she lays down. I get back under my blanket with less leg room than I had, but I snuggle in and close my eyes. Within seconds there is a soft thud and the bed shakes. This happens again and again. Chloe is throwing herself against the box spring. She wants on the bed too.
Once again, I get out of bed, lift the chunky little weiner dog up and climb back in after her. Chloe wanders around for a while, but I find the place I've already warmed up and slide right back into it. Ah, nice. I'm just drifting off when I notice that the smell of musky fur and bad doggy breath is in my face. I open my eyes to find Chloe's long nose nearly touching mine. Before I can pull my head back, a long pink tongue slurps me right on the mouth. Blech! I shove her back a little, but she resists, relentlessly licking any part of my face she can reach with her unnaturally long tongue. I give up and decide I'm better off just rolling over and facing the other direction than continuing with the battle, so I do. Chloe stretches out against my back and her body heat is really kind of pleasant. OK. Now, for some sleep.
During the struggles I'm having on the bed, the other dogs have dispersed throughout the room, each claiming a bed and settling down to nap themselves. Except Murdock. Murdock will not sleep in a dog bed. He refuses to set as much as a single paw in one. He has scooted underneath the bed and is restlessly scratching, making the tag on his collar jingle like Santa's sleigh bells. I'm doing a pretty good job of ignoring it and I'm successfully about to doze off when he bellies his way out from under the bed, in the process coming much too close to Ben the Beagle Butt. Ben comes up out of his bed with a noise that sounds like someone has set off an air horn in the room and he goes after Murdock, barking viciously. Scarlett joins in and together they chase Murdock from the room.
In the pursuit, the three dogs manage to step on Trevor's bed, waking him up. He gets up, stretches and shakes, and leaves the room. I hear the unmistakable clicking of his nails on the wood floor and know that if I don't follow him and let him outside, he will tinkle in the hallway.
That's the end of my nap. Guess I'll see what's on tv.
It began a few days ago with a light-headed fuzzy feeling and some congestion in my chest, quickly morphing into a rattley cough, streaming eyes, fever, chills and general misery.
I haven't been out of my pajamas for days and my son and I are existing on whatever take-out food I can convince him to go and pick up.
What I long for most is to sleep; to wrap my achy body in a warm blanket and sink into oblivion until this all passes over. I want a nap. Not too much to ask for, right? In a normal house that would be true, but I can't have a nap. Why? Because of THEM.
I'm referring to the six furry, demanding creatures who share my home with my husband and me. You heard me right. I did say six. Jeffery and I have four dogs, and our son recently moved onto our property with his two dogs.
I'll introduce you to our furry herd by giving you a short bio of each. First, there's 16 year old Trevor, white Chihuahua, completely deaf, sleeps a lot, but has some bladder control issues. Requires constant supervision unless one wishes to spend the entire day Swiffering up his oopsies.
Then, there is Ben, aka Beagle Butt, aka Silly Beagle, 12 year old Beagle (duh), almost completely deaf, thyroid issues requiring medication. Very fat. Exists under the belief that he owns the house and everything in it.
Next is Scarlett, 9 year old Golden Retriever mix. Scarlett is a former shelter dog with some severe abuse in her background. She has anxiety issues which make her very clingy and very barky. She is the cause of all the scratches and scars on my arms.
Then we have Penny, 6 year old brown Chihuahua. Small dog, big attitude. Another shelter alum who spent some time on the mean streets before coming to us. She is the canine equivalent of the honey badger. Penny don't care.
The first of the granddogs is 8 year old Chloe, a tri-colored dachshund with duck feet and no regard for personal space. She can dismember and disembowel any fuzzy stuffed dog toy in under an hour.
And, there's Murdock. He is a 2 year old blind Pit Bull named after Matt Murdock, the alter-ego of the blind superhero, Daredevil. Undeterred by his disability, he is a whirlwind of constant, destructive energy.
Trying to get a nap goes something like this. I settle on to my bed with my favorite napping blanket. As soon as my eyes close, a pitiful whine comes from the floor next to the bed. Penny wants up. Our bed is tall and Penny is small, so I crawl out from under my blanket and get out of bed, pick her up and deposit her onto the mattress. She noses her way under the blanket, scratching and turning circles until she is certain she is in the perfect spot and she lays down. I get back under my blanket with less leg room than I had, but I snuggle in and close my eyes. Within seconds there is a soft thud and the bed shakes. This happens again and again. Chloe is throwing herself against the box spring. She wants on the bed too.
Once again, I get out of bed, lift the chunky little weiner dog up and climb back in after her. Chloe wanders around for a while, but I find the place I've already warmed up and slide right back into it. Ah, nice. I'm just drifting off when I notice that the smell of musky fur and bad doggy breath is in my face. I open my eyes to find Chloe's long nose nearly touching mine. Before I can pull my head back, a long pink tongue slurps me right on the mouth. Blech! I shove her back a little, but she resists, relentlessly licking any part of my face she can reach with her unnaturally long tongue. I give up and decide I'm better off just rolling over and facing the other direction than continuing with the battle, so I do. Chloe stretches out against my back and her body heat is really kind of pleasant. OK. Now, for some sleep.
During the struggles I'm having on the bed, the other dogs have dispersed throughout the room, each claiming a bed and settling down to nap themselves. Except Murdock. Murdock will not sleep in a dog bed. He refuses to set as much as a single paw in one. He has scooted underneath the bed and is restlessly scratching, making the tag on his collar jingle like Santa's sleigh bells. I'm doing a pretty good job of ignoring it and I'm successfully about to doze off when he bellies his way out from under the bed, in the process coming much too close to Ben the Beagle Butt. Ben comes up out of his bed with a noise that sounds like someone has set off an air horn in the room and he goes after Murdock, barking viciously. Scarlett joins in and together they chase Murdock from the room.
In the pursuit, the three dogs manage to step on Trevor's bed, waking him up. He gets up, stretches and shakes, and leaves the room. I hear the unmistakable clicking of his nails on the wood floor and know that if I don't follow him and let him outside, he will tinkle in the hallway.
That's the end of my nap. Guess I'll see what's on tv.
January 19, 2018
Lori vs. the Cricut
Good morning friends, and happy Friday! I'm here in my small corner of New Mexico having a second cup of coffee in my jammies. Sounds cozy, right? Yeah...not really. I'm currently sharing my chair with a 45 pound, one-eyed pit bull named Murdock. Doesn't leave much room for me. My left foot is asleep, and I would love to give it a good flex to wake it up, but Murdock is using it as a pillow. When I try to move it, he pulls it back in with his paw.
It's been a busy week but, sadly, not overly productive. I can place the blame for that squarely on my husband. For Christmas, Jeff gave me a Cricut Explore Air 2, a scan and cut machine, and I am obsessed! I enjoy crafting - it is my second favorite creative outlet - and he rightly thought I would enjoy adding the Cricut machine to my outrageously large collection of crafting tools. Curse you, Jeffery Allison, for knowing me so well! It took some time (and dozens of YouTube videos) for me to learn the ins and outs of how to use it, but now I am unstoppable! I'm designing projects in my sleep! When I sit down to work, that machine with its plastic casing in my favorite color of blue only inches away begins to whisper to me, a persistent beckoning that the responsible part of my brain tries to ignore.
"Come on, Lori," it breathes. "That t-shirt you're wearing looks so plain and sad. A 5 inch iron-on of a paw print with a snarky quote - in black glitter - is only a few key strokes away, and then WON'T IT DAZZLE!!"
"Leave me alone, you Cricut," I say. "I'm a hard-working writer. There are words that must be written, a story to craft and to build. Sure, you are amazing fun to play with, and I get a light-headed thrill from the scent of vinyl as it rolls through you. What does it matter that I lapse into a hypnotic state just watching your blade slice the images I've created from the adhesive material, that weeding the excess from the design is more relaxing and satisfying than a long soak in a hot bath. I must resist your frivolous charms and type, type, type the words that will become my novel."
Unfortunately, this week, the Cricut was victorious. However, I now possess a new personalized insulated tumbler, an etched wine glass and a vinyl decal depicting Jeff, me and our dogs as zombies that I will, one day, display on the back window of my Honda.
Yeeeaaaahh. Better save the Cricut projects for weekends. Guess I'd better get to work now. I have some catching up to do! Have a great weekend, everyone!
It's been a busy week but, sadly, not overly productive. I can place the blame for that squarely on my husband. For Christmas, Jeff gave me a Cricut Explore Air 2, a scan and cut machine, and I am obsessed! I enjoy crafting - it is my second favorite creative outlet - and he rightly thought I would enjoy adding the Cricut machine to my outrageously large collection of crafting tools. Curse you, Jeffery Allison, for knowing me so well! It took some time (and dozens of YouTube videos) for me to learn the ins and outs of how to use it, but now I am unstoppable! I'm designing projects in my sleep! When I sit down to work, that machine with its plastic casing in my favorite color of blue only inches away begins to whisper to me, a persistent beckoning that the responsible part of my brain tries to ignore.
"Come on, Lori," it breathes. "That t-shirt you're wearing looks so plain and sad. A 5 inch iron-on of a paw print with a snarky quote - in black glitter - is only a few key strokes away, and then WON'T IT DAZZLE!!"
"Leave me alone, you Cricut," I say. "I'm a hard-working writer. There are words that must be written, a story to craft and to build. Sure, you are amazing fun to play with, and I get a light-headed thrill from the scent of vinyl as it rolls through you. What does it matter that I lapse into a hypnotic state just watching your blade slice the images I've created from the adhesive material, that weeding the excess from the design is more relaxing and satisfying than a long soak in a hot bath. I must resist your frivolous charms and type, type, type the words that will become my novel."
Unfortunately, this week, the Cricut was victorious. However, I now possess a new personalized insulated tumbler, an etched wine glass and a vinyl decal depicting Jeff, me and our dogs as zombies that I will, one day, display on the back window of my Honda.
Yeeeaaaahh. Better save the Cricut projects for weekends. Guess I'd better get to work now. I have some catching up to do! Have a great weekend, everyone!
July 1, 2017
Happy July!
Lori Allison Author
1 hr ·
Happy July 1st, friends! I am looking forward to a fun and busy month. In honor of the holiday weekend, I am running a giveaway of Toys in the Attic, A Spooky Lucas Mystery, Book 1. Yesterday the book made it to #17 on the list of top 100 free children's scary stories. I was pretty excited by that!
July, of course, brings Independence Day fun for most. For me, it usually means staying home and turning the volume up on the tv to drown out the fireworks noise for 3 terrified dogs. It is the only time I'm grateful that my old dog, Trevor, has lost his hearing. The other 3 are a mess this time of year. Jeff is working this weekend and the holiday anyway, so I'm happy to hibernate at home with the dogs.
Around the middle of the month, we are going to Hawaii with the family for a week. I am anticipating a fun-filled time with Jeff and our boys, future daughter-in law, Becky, my in-laws, four brother-in-laws, sister-in-law, Barb, nieces and nephews. I am seriously bummed that daughter, Jenny, can't make the trip with us. She is in her final year of her doctorate program, and can't take the time away from her field work. I have loaded numerous books on my Kindle, and am hoping for a lot of relaxing and reading time. I will, however, be taking work with me. I am nearing completion of my new book, Cry Baby, and will be using some of that week to work on editing and re-writes.
When I return from vacation, it will be the beginning of the most eagerly awaited week of the summer for me. Yes folks, Shark Week starts on July 23rd!! My butt will be planted in my chair every evening during that week as it has been for nearly 30 years. My heart beats faster just thinking about it!
Last, but I hope, not least, the end of July will bring the release of Cry Baby, A Spooky Lucas Mystery, Book 3. This book will follow Shelly and her efforts to uncover the secrets behind the untimely death of a young girl whose spirit is unleashed after her parents begin a remodel of their home. I really hope you'll all pick up a copy and let me know what you think of it!
For now, friends, I must put away the iPad and leave the comfort of my back porch swing. The grass needs mowing, and I have a book to finish. I wish you all a joyous and safe holiday weekend!
1 hr ·
Happy July 1st, friends! I am looking forward to a fun and busy month. In honor of the holiday weekend, I am running a giveaway of Toys in the Attic, A Spooky Lucas Mystery, Book 1. Yesterday the book made it to #17 on the list of top 100 free children's scary stories. I was pretty excited by that!
July, of course, brings Independence Day fun for most. For me, it usually means staying home and turning the volume up on the tv to drown out the fireworks noise for 3 terrified dogs. It is the only time I'm grateful that my old dog, Trevor, has lost his hearing. The other 3 are a mess this time of year. Jeff is working this weekend and the holiday anyway, so I'm happy to hibernate at home with the dogs.
Around the middle of the month, we are going to Hawaii with the family for a week. I am anticipating a fun-filled time with Jeff and our boys, future daughter-in law, Becky, my in-laws, four brother-in-laws, sister-in-law, Barb, nieces and nephews. I am seriously bummed that daughter, Jenny, can't make the trip with us. She is in her final year of her doctorate program, and can't take the time away from her field work. I have loaded numerous books on my Kindle, and am hoping for a lot of relaxing and reading time. I will, however, be taking work with me. I am nearing completion of my new book, Cry Baby, and will be using some of that week to work on editing and re-writes.
When I return from vacation, it will be the beginning of the most eagerly awaited week of the summer for me. Yes folks, Shark Week starts on July 23rd!! My butt will be planted in my chair every evening during that week as it has been for nearly 30 years. My heart beats faster just thinking about it!
Last, but I hope, not least, the end of July will bring the release of Cry Baby, A Spooky Lucas Mystery, Book 3. This book will follow Shelly and her efforts to uncover the secrets behind the untimely death of a young girl whose spirit is unleashed after her parents begin a remodel of their home. I really hope you'll all pick up a copy and let me know what you think of it!
For now, friends, I must put away the iPad and leave the comfort of my back porch swing. The grass needs mowing, and I have a book to finish. I wish you all a joyous and safe holiday weekend!
