Focused at Fifty

I had just arrived home from a horrible day at work. Pulling into my drive, I saw my favorite neighbor, the 70 something day-drinking divorcee Charlotte, suddenly leap up in the chair on her front porch and run into the house. I thought maybe she ran in to batten down the hatches as they say, as a major line of summer thunderstorms were quickly moving into the area. The air was thick as only a summer storm can make it feel. The late afternoon sun became hidden behind a swirling mass of black clouds and approaching thunder. I quickly got my briefcase out of the trunk and ran to the mail box hoping to grab the mail before the skies opened up and poured down on me. Running with the mail in one hand, keys and briefcase in the other, I skipped up the steps of the deck to the front door. There was the petite Charlotte, standing at my front door, juggling a small cantaloupe, 2 cheese danish, and a container of her famous chili. “Charlotte! What are you doing, it’s about to pour!” I excla

Yesterday after the gym, I was driving down the street to my driveway and spied a rabbit nibbling peacefully on some grass in my yard. I smiled and observed him for a bit. It has been awhile since I have seen one in the yard. Call me East Coast sentimental, but I believe every grassy yard should have a rabbit, a chipmunk or two, squirrels, the occasional skunk, and some robins and cardinals. It is just enough wildlife to remind you that you are not the only living thing out there! While spying on Mr. Rabbit, I remembered back to my youth when I lived on Maple Street in Wenonah, NJ. I was about 7 years old. Dad came in the house and asked if we kids wanted to see something neat. So Mom, Adam, Sheryl, and I followed Dad out into the backyard. We wandered over to the side of the house by the tether ball pole. Below that by the fence, we had a large forsythia bush. Dad told put his fingers up to his lips and shushed us quiet. Slowly he bent down and parted some lower leaves and branc

Ever have a reoccurring dream? I have had a couple of reoccurring nightmares since childhood. I have often wondered why these horrible dreams are lodged in my psyche. What part of my childhood initially triggered these torments of the night? The first involves zombies. John always wonders where my fascination with them comes from. I figure it must come from this reoccuring nightmare. I love the AMC TV series “The Walking Dead.” Can’t get enough of it! I love the gore, the fear of the people running from them, and hopelessness of a dying human race being overrun with zombies. Now everyone scream! When I was younger, I started dreaming of being chased by these undead monsters. I am in a dark wet basement, running from room to room. The air is damp, the concrete floor cold. I run into a dimly lit room and quickly close a door behind me, locking it. I am shaking with fear. They are outside of the door, beating on it endlessly, groaning at me in their zombie voices. I back up into

After work the other evening, I stopped at the local supermarket to mail a letter. The supermarket has a small post office open during business hours. Yes, some people STILL use snail mail. While I was walking into the supermarket, a visibly flustered woman ran right into me. With no apology, she looked at me, shook her head and continued on. Okaaaay, I thought, someone is having a bad day with a side of crazy. I continued inside and made a left to the little post office. My heart sank. The line was 15 people deep and all I needed was a stamp. I let out a deep sigh. I wasn’t going to wait 30 minutes for just a stamp! The letter would have to be mailed tomorrow. I turned around and headed out to my car. At least, I thought, I got a parking space close to the building. I suddently noticed a car backing up quickly while a teenager was walking behind it. I yelled “HEY!” but the driver didn’t notice. I immediately slammed my hands down on the front hood of the car screaming “STOP!”

As some of you know, I am a part time bartender at the local firehouse social club and at the private lodge in my community. I make my “fun money” this way. I really enjoy it. Being a “talker”, I am completely in my social element. Usually it means a fun, busy evening of bouncing about pouring beers, making shots, and mixing cocktails! Sometimes though, bartenders have to make difficult decisions which are not so fun. It involves cutting people off, sending them on their way, making sure they are alright to drive, or finding them a ride if they need one. I have on more than one occasion actually had to give a patron a lift home if no other ride could be found. As a bartender, you have the tough job of gauging people’s tolerance to alcohol. A sober person sometimes can quickly become a VIP (visibly intoxicated person)before you know it depending on if they are on medication, have had nothing to eat, or normally do not drink a lot. The other week I had an issue with a loud obno

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1396199760/lunchbox-envy-a-healthy-how-to-cookbook-for-kids-a?ref=users Hi Friends and Family, Please take a minute to follow the link above to a great project which my stepmom Martha Haynes is involved with and watch the video to find out more! Please check out and support their project! She is part of a group called Locally Delicious. Here is a bit about them taken off of their website, Locally Delicious is a small non-profit organization in Humboldt County, California that advocates for healthy food and localized, sustainable food systems through education and grant-giving. A few of you may remember the cookbook which Martha helped write:(taken from their website) Locally Delicious , now in its second edition, is 314 full-color pages packed with more than 200 recipes instructing readers on how to use local ingredients, where to find them and why it's important for their health and the health of the planet to do so. Their lat

My niece Angelica graduated from middle school this year and will be going onto high school. For her graduation present, my brother and his wife set up a scavenger hunt which ended with her graduation gift, an IPhone. I was excited for Angelica because she worked so hard this year and deserved it. I thought about the high school graduation gifts that I have received in my life. My high school did not include a middle school and we went straight from 7th grade through 12th. When I graduated 6th grade Wenonah Elementary and went onto Gateway Regional High School, I was given the gift of false expectations. I thought everything would be the same as in 6th grade and it would be easy and fun and wonderful and I would fit it with everyone. Gee, was I wrong. My first day in 7th grade, I was assigned a locker mate. He smelled, was the age of a 10th grader, and had week long crust formed in his eyes. Don't ask me why, I never asked him. I promptly marched down to the front office and go