Author: Susan

I could not let the passing of Jimmy Carter go by without weighing in. Most of you know I have a special fondness for the 39th president because of my chance meeting with him more than four decades ago. But, now I’m reading “A Full Life” – which he wrote at ninety – and finding even more reason to respect him.

Most of us know Carter as a farmer, but did you know during his time in the Navy, he was hand chosen to help design and build the original nuclear power plant? On a submarine, no less! I was impressed with all aspects of his life, like at twelve years old when he was finally “permitted” to break land in the field using a plow and mules, which was “the most boring and challenging duty.” By his account, his mind was “relatively unfocused,” so he would compute how many miles he would have to walk before completing the task (between 22 and 25). He said of this time that he “enjoyed a sense of accomplishment and self-satisfaction, knowing that (he) had done all that was humanly possible.”

Born in 1924 in the south, Race, of course, played a part in Carter’s life. He credits his mother, Lillian, for “never observing the principle of white supremacy,” which helped shape his commitment to the protection of human rights. This commitment, along with “keeping the peace” were Carter’s primary goals for his administration – admirable goals for an admirable man.

Carter’s gentle demeanor and down-to-earth persona were evident when I was fortunate enough to have that encounter with him one snowy day in Washington, D.C.

The story goes that when I worked for the Secret Service, my office was in the Old Executive Office Building, which is connected to the White House. On days when it was snowing or raining, I would cut through the White House as I made my way from my bus stop to work.

I was so dumbfounded one morning to see the president coming toward me down that long hallway, that in my twenty-year-old naiveté, I said, “What are you doing here?”

He had the biggest grin on his face as he stopped and shook my hand saying, “I live here. What are you doing here?”

I have to wonder if he relayed that story to anyone afterwards laughing at the silly young girl in the hallway. I know that in my office of wise cracking secret service agents, I didn’t soon live it down.

I must say if I am to have only one significant VIP encounter in my lifetime, I can’t think of a nobler person than Jimmy Carter with whom to have it.

Welcome, 2025. Farewell, fun.

Well…at least for a while.

Like many people, I get serious about “shaping up” in January. Then, for the most part I try to stay focused until December when all bets are off.

This past year was no different. Well, it may have been a little worse. Maybe it was the European vacation at the beginning of the month that kicked things off, next level.

Eating cookies for breakfast; skipping exercise class; ordering wine with lunch; celebrating happy hour in the middle of the week; hell, we even ordered dessert the other day! I was like an out of control 18-year-old who just arrived at college with no guardrails for the first time. (Hopefully I didn’t also gain the dreaded “Freshmen 15.”)

The party is officially over. Dry January has started, the cookies are all gone, and I am back to my regular exercise classes.

In looking for a bright spot (behind the good health thing, of course), there is actually a huge one. Since I’m now retired, this is the first time I do not have to go back to work after the December break. And this year, because of the way the calendar fell, it was actually three full weeks off, so it would have been really hard to face that Monday morning.

Now, that’s what I call a bright side.

Happy New Year!

I was trying to avoid posting for Christmas. It’s a lot of pressure to come up with something that hasn’t already been said “many times, many ways.” But then my biweekly Tuesday post day fell on Christmas Eve so now what?

There’s always the grateful thing… But I’ve done that (maybe ad nauseum), and I did not want to make you endure yet another telling of how grateful I am. (Very!)

Favorite Christmas movie? So cliché.
(Charlie Brown’s Christmas, with A Christmas Story as a close second.)

Favorite Christmas song? So many great classics, but the relatively new (1989) Grown Up Christmas List moves me every time with its touching and relevant lyrics.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Jax1ZmfOXE

How about a simple Merry Christmas? I do hope your Christmas is all you want it to be. And, I sincerely wish you and your loved ones good health in the new year.

Extra prayers and thoughts for those of you who are struggling this holiday season as I know it can sometimes be a tough time of the year.

I also want to thank you for reading my blog and indulging me as I practice my writing. I so appreciate the support.

S.

The saying goes something like, The best laid plans of mice and men go oft awry.

I was reminded of the line from the Burns poem when the best laid plans of our recent European vacation took a couple of left turns.

It was a good opportunity to remember my favorite advice/mantra/lesson about control and how little we ultimately have. I try to focus on the most important part of that lesson, which is that we do have control over how we choose to react to those left turns. This choice can make the difference between things going “awry” or not.

So, ask me how my vacation was and I will tell you, Wunderbah! The primary purpose of the trip – the 60th birthday celebration of a favorite German family member – went as planned in a fabulous villa on the sun kissed jewel of the Mediterranean that is Mallorca, Spain.

The vibrant city of Barcelona did not disappoint with its incredible churches, cathedrals and city history, not to mention the Sangria and the great fun that was paella making.

And, finally, the winter wonderland of Bavaria – to me one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Being there so close to Christmas made it even more special. Some folks thought us crazy for visiting in winter, but even for this Floridian who does prefer to be warm, it was a welcome change, especially since we were properly outfitted by the best hosts ever.

We were treated so kindly by all, had great fun along the way, arrived home safely, and the cat survived!

What left turn?

I can’t remember the last time we went out for dinner and a movie. It’s a big decision to get out of your comfy clothes and actually leave the house nowadays. But, “Hey,” I said on a recent rainy Saturday night, “let’s do it!”

The first sign that it was maybe not my best idea was when we somehow got the time wrong and showed up an hour early (stupid computer does that to us sometimes). We killed time walking around the grocery store next door. (On the upside, I found some plant-based eggs I’d like to try in the future.)

When we finally got into the theatre, the temperature was set to freezing. (Not just by my standards either. My brother later said, “I bring my winter coat when I go there.”) So, I schlepped all the way out to the car (he did offer) to get jackets that barely helped.

As the movie started, the house lights went up rather than down. Not a good sign. Ten minutes later it was obvious that no one else was making a move, so I made the trek to the concession stand to ask them to turn them off.

Two thirds into the movie when one of the main characters visibly aged, we looked at each other and said, “thank goodness it’s almost over.” (It was a much anticipated movie with one of our favorite actors, but it was not at all what we expected.)

Onto the next part of our adventure: pizza! We sat next to what appeared at first glance to be a family of four. Before long, we were convinced it was some type of “group home” outing, which is fine as long as there is someone responsible leading the group. There wasn’t. The guy we thought might be “in charge” said much too loudly, “Shut the F up and eat.” Only he didn’t say “F.” It was difficult to ignore this group as we were seated very close. When their food came, the woman opened (and I mean unscrewed the tops) of all of the spices on the table and poured them over her food. At one point, the cook actually came out of the kitchen and asked her, “Is that all oregano?”

Feeling like it was just a matter of time before something or someone imploded at that table we quickly ate our pizza and hightailed it out of there.

Once home, we immediately got into our comfy clothes and onto our comfy couch and put on Netflix.

Now, I don’t want to say the answer to the age old “whether to leave the house” question is a definitive no, but, maybe for a while it will be. And in the future, we’ll definitely be a lot more careful with the planning.

Postscript: I will say that the pizza was really good, and there’s no better way to have it than piping hot right out of the oven even when you have one eye on a guy who is palming a piece of pizza as he chews the cheese off the top.

We just returned from a birthday celebration in Georgia for my 85-year-old friend, Mary.

Mary is the kind of friend that James Taylor songs are written about.

I think it’s safe to say that if you’re 85-years-old and black in America today you’ve seen your fair share of strife. I know Mary has not had an easy life, but a more positive and inspiring person, you will never find.

Mary is always telling me how much she appreciates me, but the truth is, I am the benefactor in this relationship. Whenever I need a little pick me up, I call Mary. Talking with her leaves you feeling wrapped in her love.

There were 200 people at that birthday party. Along with Mary’s kids and grandkids many of them got up to speak and they all described a version of what I am saying here. It was amazing to see how many lives she has touched. Amazing, but not surprising. I’ll bet Mary ends her phone calls with all of them just the same as she ends mine, “I love ya, Boo, and tell Joe I love him, too.”

Postscript: One of Mary’s dreams was to own a mink coat. Being an animal lover, I don’t love this, but, it’s Miss Mary. At least her kids went with used when they decided to pool their resources to make their mother’s wish come true. I must admit she looked like a million bucks. Now I’m kind of glad she made the move to Georgia as church days would have been pretty unbearable in a mink coat in Florida.

One of my summer commitments was to swim each day for 20 minutes. (Thank you for the idea, P.) Somehow this challenge stretched past September and into October. (I probably missed a total of ten days.)  Now when I say swim, I’m being very generous. What I do does not even remotely resemble the stuff they did in the pools (and rivers) of Paris this past summer. It’s more like a scene out of the movie Cocoon minus the bathing caps. I call it aquasizing with a side of creative writing.

I like to say that I haven’t been bored since I was seven years old. This “aquasizing” could have easily changed that if I hadn’t found a way to “write in the pool.” I’d think about ideas for posts, or if I already had an idea going, I would work on how to improve it. (The challenge there was remembering when I got out of the pool.)

This “summer” thing turned a lot more challenging when October rolled around because now the pool is no longer a balmy 86 degrees. This is especially ironic since I recently contemplated one of those Cold-Water Plunges that are all the health rage. If you’re not familiar, it’s a big barrel filled with 40-50 degree water in which you submerge yourself. Proponents say this “cold therapy” can help muscles recover, improve mood, boost metabolism, reduce inflammation, and more. For me, it would be just another effort to help my “maturing” skin. Alas, who knew my cold plunge tolerance was 78 degrees?

So now that the summer challenge is (thankfully) coming to an end, I must find a new activity to spark my creative juices. According to Bruce Springsteen, writing is magic – you simply take something out of the air and make it physical. If that’s so, I suppose any activity will suffice. I’m thinking lying on the lounge chair sounds good.

As we like to say in Florida, we dodged another one. The folks on the west coast probably aren’t saying that, but we were very, very lucky. Again.

Sure, we spent all day cleaning up debris and still do not have power, but I consider us lucky. We are all well and none of us had major damage.

Another thing to be grateful for is the weather. Often when the power is out up north it’s freezing, and down south it’s sweltering. But, today is a beautiful 72 degrees and I am able to sit out on the porch as I write. Of course, my power bar is shrinking, and eventually I will have to go across the street to charge if the electric isn’t restored soon. But, hey, I have a device to charge and a neighbor to ask. Right? This is the same neighbor who is storing our frozen food. Just the valuables. We showed our appreciation by telling them the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream was theirs to keep.

As we struggled with cleanup, a few neighbors came by offering help and one tried to lend us his generator (which, by the way, is all I hear right now). But, we’re old school. It’s candles and propane for us. We put whatever was defrosting quickest on the grill and had a smorgasbord with one of our elderly neighbors who lives alone. She brought along a salad to contribute to the “feast.”

I woke early to go to the local convenient store with Yetis in hand in search of coffee. This is where I usually get gas, but I have never actually been inside. I fumbled with the process and went to the counter to pay. After waiting a few minutes, a lady came from across the store (it’s way bigger in there than I thought) and asked, “Is that all you’re getting, honey?” When I said yes, she said, “You go ahead and have yourself a nice weekend.” I actually got a bit choked up for a moment at her unexpected kindness. Of course when the sun came up, I realized I looked like a real sad sack after rolling out of bed and dragging an inside out sweatshirt over my bed head.

Postscript: We were only without power for two days. On the second night as we sat in the living room lit by a flickering candle and a laptop screen, the power popped on and the house came to life. We were hopeful when we saw the workers in the neighborhood that day, but once the sun set, we figured, oh well, maybe tomorrow. We were so caught off guard that when the lights came on, we looked at each other and screamed like little kids.

We like to think we realize what a luxury electricity is, but I don’t think you can truly appreciate it until you go without once in a while.

I said I was going to start posting every other week, but I felt compelled to weigh in on the hurricane situation.

I have lived in Florida since 1980, so I have a bit of experience. I know that folks who have not experienced hurricanes often wonder why someone wouldn’t evacuate. Many Floridians, like me, have evacuated only to have the hurricane change directions. In my case, I evacuated to Orlando with my husband and golden retriever only to have the hurricane hit there. We found a hotel and prepared to hunker down when we got a knock on the door telling us to leave because dogs were not allowed. We rode out the hurricane in a parking lot. I vowed then that I would never evacuate again. With that said, we are about four miles from the river and at least seven from the ocean. We have gotten good at planning for the worst, hoping for the best, and hunkering down.

Also, we are in a good area that has never suffered a direct hit (on record). I’ve read that NASA actually chose our location because the Gulf Stream is about 30 miles offshore and hurricanes have time to dwindle, making our county less susceptible to extreme damage and direct hits. I choose to think that’s true, and I hope it continues to be even with the changes in weather we’ve been experiencing.

Hurricanes are scary. The sounds can be terrifying. We’ve been without power for two weeks with soaring heat. But, we have good neighbors and a great family. Often in our neighborhood one side of the block is without power and the other isn’t, so you’ll see extension cords run from house to house. We’ve shared cell phone chargers, food, water and ice with folks and have stored neighbors’ frozen goods in our freezer; we’ve been shown the same kindness.

The latest forecast predicts this hurricane may be a dangerous one. Coming on the heels of a monster like Helene, it has folks very nervous. I pray for the best for all in its path.

I appreciate the support I’ve received for my blog. I’m happy to say it’s exactly what I hoped it would be – a vehicle for my writing with the added benefit of connecting with folks.

Blogging was definitely out of my comfort zone, so I decided to take a page from my friend Sandy’s never-boring playbook. When she was interviewing for a somewhat ambitious Department of Defense position, she decided to assume the Oprah persona as she addressed the interview panel. Sandy was, of course, prepared for what they would ask so she shared the autobiography of her career and when she was done simply got up, shook each of their hands, and wished them well in filling the position as she breezed out. I can imagine the look on their faces as this force of nature swooped out like she was the busiest person in the world. Needless to say, Sandy got the job and is still crushing it more than five years later.

So, when I was a little intimidated starting this blog, I decided to channel Sandy. I simply acted as though my favorite NY newspaper (Newsday) asked me to do a weekly column, and I just ran with it.

I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “Fake it til you make it.” There really is something to it. Confidence is key.

Thanks again for the encouragement, the kind words and ongoing support.

JUST A NOTE: I’m going to cut back to posting every other week. (I’ve notified Newsday 😉)