July 28th, 2005

It's the Countdown
The 79th annual Thesier Reunion is August 7th, 2005 in Carthage New York, and I leave Monday on Jet Blue with Cousin Jay.
We're being picked up at the airport by Aunt Marge, and staying the night with Cousin Mike until we drive up to the lake to see Mom and Dad and Aunt Mugs and Uncle Gabe and . . . Sheesh!
That there is the extent of MOST peoples families, though it's just the tip of my familiar iceburg. I'll be gone for the month of August travelling west from New York to California. I'm hoping for a fun trip. Check often for on-the-raod updates. I will be blogging all the way . . .

In the meantime, and with 4 days to go, I have this job that needs finishing. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I can't seem to keep my mind off the concept of home improvement. The robots at home depot implanted a chip in my head that sends out a constant pulse meant to stimulate the home improvement section of my brain, the update-o powertoolish oblongata. I had 2 tons of mason block delivered to the house last week. I think I like how it looks on my sidewalk, though my neighbors are complaining about the 32% loss in street parking.
I'm hoping to have a 70 foot long retaining wall finished before I leave- HA HA HA! Ya Right!

This is not a scene from a recent Mexico City earthquake, it's my Lenai, my Veranda, Patio or porch. It's what is supposed to be an atttractive outdoor space that is slowly sliding down cold mountain. A retaining wall will hopefully "retain" our space so that we can keep the bar-bqque level at least long enough to have a housewarming party, which we still have yet to do.

Feedback to this article HERE

July 21st, 2005

George Cousineau

1925-2005
I met George in 1996 in the waiting room of a hospital in Santa Clarita after Peter had a stroke on the job, and I dialed 911.
Little did I know that on that day, George and I would be destined to spend hours getting to know each-other in hospitals.
Over the past 9 years, George has been in and out of hospitals for Diabetes, kidnney failure, heart bypasses and the like. He's had Pneumonia 9 times. Each time he goes in, Pete calls me, and we visit George every day until it's time to take him home. This has become our routine.
How many times have you had the "Death Talk" with an older adult, thinking to yourself on some level that you don't want to be there when it happens.
'Oh George" I said, "You're fine! Only the good die young, and you're only 80!"

George passed away on Thursday night from a heart attack. Apparantly the ambulance he was riding in was re-routed to another emergency room, and he pitched a fit, a fit that sent his ticker into high alert, and he never made it out alive.
We all knew he was a crotchety hot-head, and had little to no respect for the medical industry. I never imagined his temper would be the cause of his death, he had so many other things going on. In the end his blood pressure boiled and he popped a valve and now Pete and I are left to sort through the paper work and settle his estate for him.

George had wanted to be sent home to the east coast, but his sister(who died Tuesday) got the last family plot. The veterans Administration will provide George with a space at a cemetary in Riverside, that's the best we can do for him now.

Many of George's neighbors are a bit upset that there's no funeral or memorial service scheduled, but this was Pete's decision, and he doesn't want it. So the only memorial to George is this article in the blog, and a few catholic candle jars left on the sidewalk in front of George's house.
This photo I took of George Earlier this month, he looked so goodd, hair combed, shirt tucked in, all shaved. I think this was one of the last photos taken of him.

Do yourselves, and your loved ones a favor peoples, and get your stuff in order just in case. This week has been hell for Pete and me, and George thought he had everything all set in the event of his demise. He could have been a lot more organized that this, but when I think of what my paperwork looks like, I cringe. I'm going to try to get all my stuff organized before my next birthday. You should too!

July 11th, 2005

Pollo Airways?
You know you're travelling a Central American Airline when the plane you just borded is suspiciously missing seats, and there's livestock in what you thought was first class. Our Captain gave us the flight plan in Spanish, then in English, but for some reason, the Spanish version had a joke that made all the Chickens laugh. Concerned? Always. Especially when I feel like I'm the only one on the outside of an inside poultry joke.
I put my feet up on the hay bails, turned my iPod volume way up, and practiced my Spanish, beginning with "Siesta"

Does the voice in YOUR head sound like Rodney Dangerfield?
The first thing I noticed about Puerto Vallarta, upon stepping off the plane onto the Tarmac (that looked suspiciously like dust) was the humidity. I'm not one to complain about heat, I get plenty of it in Dominica, Los Angeles and the dog-poop police at the local park, but standing still in this country evoked the kind of sweating that could only come from hot sex with the Energizer bunny. I was wet standing still and no one was blowing in my ear. I swear to God, a dogs mouth contains less moisture. My glasses steamed up before I got to the bottom of the rope ladder.

What's the Spanish word for "Ironic?"
Our Cab driver to the"Hotel" was a smart, chatty friendly man that wished us both well, that we have a great time duing our stay in Puerto Vallarta, and long life. He was so charming, personable, and spoke English so well that it was inevitable that we would never, ever see him again during our visit.

Polly want a Cervesa?
On Day One we took the city tour, saw "Our Lady of Guadalupe" Church (They have a ceramic Christ under glass- creepy), had lunch in the rainforest, got attacked by a crazed Parrot with a penchant for jewelry, and collapsed in our room in the early afternon from total and complete 'Exhaustion De Tourisma", Yes, I'm making up my own language to sound like Spanish.
We Practiced more Siesta skills for 45 minutes before we landed our cab to the Marina for our Pirate Ship Sunset Dinner Cruise.

A Pirate with a Man Purse?
Two things about the Pirate Ship Sunset Dinner Cruise:
1. Free Drinks,
2. More Free Drinks.
We had a ball, and I think they fed us. There was also fireworks, which you can see from anywhere onboard the ship, provided you're lying on your back. If your face is tossing surf and turf over the rail you'll totally miss the show.

While the rest of the country was at Church . . .
Sunday morning we had breakfast at a great Cafe De Ollo, but stayed so long we barely had time to suit up, head to the pools and make fun of the vacationing families before we were jettisoned off to the airport for our direct flight to U.S. Customs, and perhaps eventually-home.
Overall we had a funfilled and romantic visit to P.V.- my advice is to go in the winter- it smells better, and so will you.