If You Can Make it Here. . .



We are back from our whirlwind trip to New York City. We had a good time, saw a lot of sights (and people), a show (Memphis which was great) and a lot of basketball (Big East Tournament).

We planned to take one of the city bus tours one day that would drive us around for a couple of hours and from which you can jump off to spend more time at a particular place. You don't  have to search for these tours: they find you. Spend a few moments in Times Square and several vendors will approach you to sell you tickets for tour buses. We only wondered for a few moments about how they knew we were out-of-towners. I'm sure our dress and body language gave us away.

But on the last day we were there, a man came up to us and asked us, as he pointed, if that was the Chrysler Building in the distance. We said yes, we thought so and he looked surprised: "You mean you aren't New Yorkers?" he asked. Guess we had finallly made it. And as the song says, if we can make it there, we can make it anywhere. Felt like we were on top of the heap!

The City That Never Sleeps

New York City is one of a kind. You can find anything here, at any time of the day.

The people here seem to be in a hurry at all times. Women, especially, are hard-charging in heels, which is a talent I will never master, even on my best day. They are well-dressed at all times, wearing the latest fashion -- boots, skinny jeans or leggings and little ruffly skirts.

Black still rules fashion here, but the clothing stores are showing color in all the windows for summer. Wonder who will wear them?

We saw Memphis on Broadway. Great show. Such talent performers have.

So many people everywhere you look. Amazing. But not enough green spaces.

Saw a brownstone for sale and wondered how much it was going for. Probably 2 or 3 million, AND it needs work. Only in New York.

What's Your Real Age?

With another birthday looming, I got to thinking about what an age actually means. People always say that you are only as old as you feel, which on somedays is an adage to avoid. But really: How OLD are we?

I used to get updates from the Real Age website, where you can take a test and see what your Real Age is, they say. I also took a similar test on our Wii Fit Plus program, and that didn't turn out so well. I was ready to send all of those  mini Miis packing when they told me I had the body of someone in their 70s. And just because I couldn't balance on one leg, which I don't think I have ever been able to do!

I know that when I had a stress test more than ten years ago they said I had a great heart for someone my age, which I credit to genetics, and when I had my hearing test I was told I had the hearing of a ten year old.

So from all of this I gather that no one has a clue how old we really are, least of all us. But that doesn't keep us from getting a little down when we see just how many candles are on this year's cake, which is plain old  poppycock, (a word I have always wanted to use in an article.)

How old am I? Well, I think I will go with that other adage that says Age Is Just a Number --  one we can control or let control us.

Spring Cleanup Begins

Now that the large snow mounds have finally melted here, we can see what they have been hiding for the past few weeks -- a lot of trash. Driving down my everday roads I have noticed milk cartons, water bottles, newspapers and other trashy things lying along the roadways.

I saw one man, wearing a blaze orange safety vest, collecting these items yesterday, hopefully disposing of them in the right manner. Kudos to him.

When my sons were young, I would always send them out with a bag in hand on a spring day -- after some of the mud had dried up -- to gather up all of the trash that had blown into the yard and down over the hill throughout the winter. We also usually found a lot of balls that had never made their way into the garage after being played with.

Guess I will have to don my mud boots and get out there and start picking trash up, along with the dead branches that have fallen from the oak trees. I don't think this is what anyone means by "spring cleaning," but it qualifies.

Ah, spring. Wonderful.

Birds of a Feather

Watching birds this morning at my feeders I thought about how much we are like them. Each of the birds hangs out in the tree tops for awhile, checking out the feeders and making sure no predators are nearby. They eventuallly fly to tree limbs that are closer and then closer still, their heads moving constantly to see what and who's about them.

Finally, they make that last flight onto the feeders and peck away at the suet, still swiveling their heads constantly. If they feel or see the slightest thing that scares them, like someone walking inside the house or a change in the light, they will fly away quickly to their farthest perch and then begin the bird ballet again.

We are a lot like that. We are wary of new situations, even at our age, when we have lived through most. It's OK to be wary and to be careful, but it shouldn't keep us away from the prize -- suet for the birds, joy for us.

Friendly City by the Bay

Who says city dwellers aren't friendly and helpful? We were greeted by smiles and helpful faces everywhere we went in San Francisco. No one failed to help us out.

It is an easy city to get around in. Lots of buses and trolleys, and of course, cable cars, but we did get stranded for awhile at a museum in Golden Gate Park, waiting for transportation as it got colder and darker, but it worked out in the end.

With the sun shining, it is good to be here.

Took a walking tour of the Victorian darlings in one of the city's richest neighborhoods. I had bought a book on the Painted Ladies years ago and finallly saw some of them up close. Gorgeous but very expensive. Most go for $2 million or more and often need work. Yikes! Unless of course you are Danielle Steele who has a huge mansion here, but does her writing in a "small" cottage nearby. Sounds like a great plan! I may have to look into that.



San Francisco Bay

Photo taken in 1996

Saw this view of boats in the bay again this week from the Golden Gate Bridge. Beautiful.

Cold, windy and rainy in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. San Franciscans seem to take the bad weather in stride, knowing it will change again soon.

As one visitor said, they are in denial about winter here. It would seem so.