Focused at Fifty

A couple of weeks ago, I discovered tennis again. John asked me if I wanted to play tennis up at the Lake Wynonah Lodge. Well, not particularly. My idea of a workout these days is a very regimented 30 to 45 minute cardio workout on either an elliptical machine, stepper, or treadmill IN THAT ORDER. I throw in weights too every now and then, but nothing too Arnold Schwarzenegger. And I hate treadmills, did I mention that? BORING ... even with "American Pickers" on the TV in front of me spouting their latest treasures. Marc with Ankle Injury I hadn’t played tennis in over 10 years. I think the last time was when John asked me to play as well. I played to appease him and get him off my back, didn’t particularly enjoy it. I think I really sucked. I will even go as far as to say it caused me great personal injury. OK, maybe I got hit by a stray tennis ball and blacked out momentarily. It wasn’t like way back when … picture it, 1982. I was taking tennis lessons at the Wen

Writers block. I just hate it and have had it for the last week. It sucks. You just cannot figure out what to write about. Or, as in my case this week, I just feel uninspired. It's crazy, because I have lists upon lists of topics but nothing is just jumping out at me ... but wait, my memory has traveled back to someone very dear to me. My mentor and former teacher from elementary school, Elaine Arbo, once told me that when you don't know what to write about, just start writing and see what comes out. You may find something. She is write ... LOL, I mean right. Ironically, I typed "write" when I meant the other word. I think I will keep it that way. :) Elaine was my 2nd grade teacher at Wenonah Elementary School. She was a slightly eccentric and extremely creative woman with these huge glasses and brilliant silver gray hair. She was such a wonderful influence on me. Starting in 4th grade, Elaine taught a program on creativity for "gifted" students. I hate

Embarrassment. It’s a word that hides around the corner. When the opportunity presents itself, it willingly and eagerly jumps out of hiding to throw that curve ball into your day. Spinach in your teeth at a business meeting? Embarrassment is one of those people in the crowd laughing at you. Caught with your proverbial pants down? Embarrassment is probably the one that pulled them down. With that being said, my good friend Renee knows that I have a small antique business on the side, nothing major, pretty small change … my fun money. I am frequently at yard sales, flea markets, and thrift stores, hunting for treasures to buy and sell. Renee lives on the lake and has a tiki hut lakeside with a life-size replica of the Blues Brothers holding court for all those to see when they sail by. So when Renee asked me for a mannequin as a lifeguard, I thought nothing of it. Well John’s mom, I remembered, had a vintage dress mannequin and he offered that up for Renee. As a joke one evening, we

I travel 50 minutes each day to work on PA Route 78. It’s about 48 miles. It’s not a bad commute, kind of long and straight, through valleys, farmland, and woods until you get into the industrialized part of Lehigh Valley. The route follows the last ridge of the Blue Mountains before the Atlantic coastal plain. Scenically, speaking, it’s very pretty. The traffic flows smoothly. Truckers, I find, are pretty respectful of drivers on the roadway. The usual problems come with idiots speeding to and from work in their sports cars. I usually tune out to NPR, Elvis Duran’s radio show in the morning, or pop in a favorite CD. During these last three weeks, three separate accidents have completely shut down the I-78 corridor during the morning. The first, occurred on a Friday morning by the Kutztown exit. A man in a pickup truck went down the embankment and crashed into a tractor trailer. Poor guy lost his life. The second accident happened one exit down the following Monday morning. A tra

I completed a lot of necessary yard work this past weekend. Yard work is a lot like exercise. I hate doing it, but when I start and get into it, it’s not so bad. Then, after an hour or so has passed, I feel like I can keep going and going. This weekend included mowing, trimming bushes and trees, and general yard maintenance. John and I have had bad luck with the forsythias this past year. We planted a row of five of them two years ago. The one closest to the house is growing like crazy. The other four always seems to be struggling. Branches die, we snip ‘em off, others grow in their place. The troublesome four never seem to get beyond the scraggly bush phase. A friend in the Lake mentioned that he thought it was the soil. I don't know, just give me something that grows like crazy with watering. The pussy willow, on the other hand, is just crazy all over the place. I try and keep it trimmed back so that it doesn’t look so wild. Our butterfly bushes have come back since last O