Stuck in a Stationary Low

What kind of weather does low air pressure bring?

Wiki Answer:  Rain, clouds, low temperatures.

Meg Answer: A sense you could possibly lose your mind.  It’s where edginess becomes evident.

Observations for week three of rain:

You awaken.  To a dark, dank murky, musty cauldron of weather. Or maybe I’m thinking of the new Harry Potter movie, but most likely not, as the one I want to see most is HANGOVER.

You are hot. You are cold. It’s sticky, yet a stiff breeze is blowing. Your hair is plastered to your head in an exceedingly attractive way. Your lawn is a bright neon shade of green, which is good because it makes you think of psychedelic posters, which makes you think of drugs, but really you only have Tylenol pm in the house.

I start to keenly observe my surroundings:


The umbrella might keep rain off the basil plants? There’s a smart idea!


The tiny copper lights usually bring a smile to my face as they twinkle at night.


Will this combination ever see white sand this summer?


I’m sorry you keep showing up in town. Yet, I can’t kick you to the curb, can I?


Did you know that weather low’s are also called depressions? Not when these friends swing by!

This combination with fresh squeezed lemon and pureed berries will make the best damn martini you ever had. And that will help out until we see the sun again, right?

NYC Culture Recap

How lucky am I? Leo had to attend a last minute meeting in New York City this week. I quickly pounced and managed to turn attending a boring business meeting into weekend of fun and CULTURE.

Saturday – off on the Acela. Arrive at 11:45, actually find a cab at Grand Central.

Kismet; room ready at noon time. When does that ever happen? Off to Metropolitan Museum of Art, a good activity as rain has followed us down the East Coast. But who cares?

We dined overlooking Central Park and the indoor sculpture garden:


We celebrated summer solstice in Times Square:


Thank God they were giving away free mats to meditate on.

We find more cultural enlightenment as we walk around:


That’s right, the Naked Cowboy was in the house.  If you are planning upcoming nuptials, he is available for a fee.

Onward to our featured event of the weekend:


Rock of Ages. My kind of musical theater. An R rated show that serves cocktails, plays Journey music, and gives me the chance to pretend it’s 1983 again. And, American Idol contestant Constantine Maroulis was, well, cute.  I leave the theater thinking I’ve still got it. (well, for a few minutes anyway.)

More Museum fun at MOMA:


I just wanted to kick back on that chaise with a giant Starbucks and a good book. This whole floor of the museum had really eclectic displays of furniture and art that made you want to relax in the actual exhibit!

Onward for some refreshment at Dillon’s on East 40th:

And here’s a greatest New York culture experience of them all. The people.


Here’s Leo and I with our new best friend Kevin. Kevin is Dillon’s best patron, and when the rest of us looked in need of a beer, he shouted out “It’s a desert in here. I’m parched! And a round for the rest of these guys!” Conversation ensued, and a round of tequila shots quickly consumed. (Who am I anyway?? I don’t drink shots!)


Here’s our bartender John with two more people Kevin convinced to do shots. The lady on the right was a high school guidance counselor from Nevada, and the girl was her exchange student 10 years ago. We were all having quite a rollicking afternoon.

Ladies, hope you had a great visit to New York, and Kevin, have a blast at the Cape this summer. I might see you there.

New York City – never a dull moment.

Sending Good Karma into the World

It’s a sad and wistful week.

I’m going to rectify that by sending good karma into the world, and tell you a little bit about my Dad.

A little over a year ago, Dad had a heart attack while voting in the February primaries. He actually managed to cast his vote before the ambulance arrived, and yes Mr. President, do thank him (!).  We didn’t think his condition was serious, but to our surprise, a day later he was undergoing a nine hour open heart surgery. And still more surgery 2 days later because the doctors weren’t totally happy with things.

During that time, he sure didn’t look like my Dad.  He was hooked up to a roomful of machines, with dozens of tubes and monitors. The stuff you see in those icky medical TV shows and movies.

When he finally awoke on Valentine’s Day, he promptly told my mother he thought she deserved that new car they had been talking about.  Dad, always with a line that breaks up the room!

The recovery was long and difficult. We were so concerned he would never be himself again, but he managed to conquer the intense cardiac rehab. He ditched the walker,  and tooled around the house and yard. He fixed himself a grand breakfast every morning, and he and Mom got out to dinner and movies. He watched his beloved Red Sox all summer.

Relief finally settled on us for awhile.  Around Christmas, things started to go wrong. In a way that in your heart of hearts, you know isn’t going to have a happy ending.  He had a stroke (unknown to us at the time), and suddenly it was 1974.  The stroke also robbed him of his vision, so we weren’t sure what he could really see anymore.

You would think that he was a shell of a man, but in fact, the opposite was true. He told my mother every day when we arrived how good she looked.  And what did we have for snacks, because he needed some energy dammit!! And how were the Bruins doing?

On what would be his final day, we had settled him into Brigham and Women’s Hospital. The nurses asked if he would like communion in the morning, and he thought for a moment. and said well sure, as long as it won’t cost me anything.

Dad, always cracking the room up!

That actually was our last moment together. We didn’t know that just a few short hours later, the doctors could no longer could do anything else, and he quickly passed.  We walked through the cold dark night back to the hospital to say goodbye.  At least he was at peace, and that was most important of all.

So on the week that would have been my parents 52nd wedding anniversary, as well as the day we honor our Dad’s, I wanted to share some of him with you.


This was Dad’s official Air Force photo. We kids always could see why Mom thought he was cute.


This was always my very favorite photo. We used to go to Nantucket every year, and he would always light up a cigar on the patio at the end of a long day of painting and climbing ladders.


This when was little Matt, my now 6 year old nephew was born. The boys were quite enamored of their grandfather.


Here were my parents on their 50th anniversary…

So each day, and especially this week, I hope I carry on his legacy, and that it to be like him. To be a good person, a kind soul with a sense of humor, and a responsible citizen of the world.

Make sure to spend some special time,  send an extra funny card, or have a really nice phone conversation with your Dad this weekend.  Honor him while you can.

I know I just have.

Monday Mocks Me


I seriously hate when I wake up first thing and they tell me next weekend will be crappy. Shouldn’t the FCC have some kind of law for that? Like a cruelty provision???

I expended a great deal of energy yesterday attempting to be cheerful as passing showers kept passing. And I would have impaled myself on an umbrella, but I remembered, this is the only man with a pointy umbrella:


….. and I only have a TOTES. So I guess I could club myself over the head?

Onward with the day. I need a ton of things at TARGET. But guess what TARGET has done this week??? Yes, they have turned the entire store upside down and it’s now backwards. The time-space continuum has spun off course, and I can’t find ANYTHING. And NO, I don’t want a handy 36 pack of Northern toilet paper, because I don’t even have room for 36 bottles of wine, never mind THAT.   Come back in three weeks they told me, it’ll be done. And can I have a GPS when I come back too?

On to the gym. (I’m trying here.) I have a successful elliptical workout, followed by weights. Good going Meg!   But Meg tries to do some sit-ups, and realizes she lost her CORE somewhere along the way. Great, well I wonder if I can get that back?

Well, core be damned, I decided I’m making sauce and meatballs and I’ll have a loaf of garlic bread with that too.

Don’t mess with me Monday!

PS. Forgot to add a photo of the sun for old times sake:


What Not to Wear – The Bathing Suit Edition

So I open the glossy insert of yesterday’s paper, called FB. It stands for Fashion Boston, where it’s evident the editors don’t know that Boston *IS* a college town, and not a beach-side bordello.

Yes, there is a healthy share of suburban wealth that can shop at Barney’s, who happen to be one of the sponsor’s with a ginormous ad in this handy guide. Those would be the folks that hop a plane to Nevis, and sit by the pool wearing a Swarovski encrusted bathing ensemble. No splashing, please!

Then, there are us gals who won’t shop until we get that 25% off email coupon, where we timidly attempt to use them on the sensible Miracle Suit at Lord and Taylor, where we dearly hope black is the prevailing color, and won’t a nice black sarong to match look good too?

So ladies, (and gentlemen?) let’s check out what FB suggests for our beach excursions this summer:

Oh good, macrame bathing suits are in? I know I had a smart cloche like this in junior high, and I also created a plant hanger for my mom’s sun porch that looked very similar as well.

Seriously, what laws of physics are involved here? I myself, thought Newton’s Law of Gravity. Leo thought this suit did defy gravity,  but he was thinking another scientific principle was at play:

The zeroeth law of thermodynamics, which makes the notion of temperature possible. OK, I get that, he thinks she looks HOT.

Next issue. Evidently, we aren’t doing a photo shoot at the beach like normal people. No sun, sand or surf here folks. Because these “Boho-Chic bathing suits are taking a Boston Bistro by storm”!  Oh, GACK.  Oops, look what I just bumped into in the ladies room!


The copy went on to say:

“These suits are carried off with an easy unforced sexiness, that’s relaxed and at home in any environment”.

How about:

These skimpy suits are hard to wear. You will need to starve yourself for days in advance, procure a roll of double sided tape, and in all likelihood need a painful Brazilian wax. ENJOY!

Here’s my advice for a REAL beach outing:

  • Wear your suit to an actual beach, not a bistro.
  • Wear something comfortable, and if you are in good shape, by all means feel free to wear cute attire suitable for your age and figure!
  • This one’s from Mom: I do not need to see Kitty Murphy at the beach.  Think about that one, it should make sense to the Irish Catholics out there.
  • From Meg: Do not tattoo yourself in a place everyone will see, with the Snoopy character from Peanuts. It will turn into Fred Bassett before you know it.
  • Have a blast at the beach this summer!

Ode to a Microplane Zester

I recently won a really cool kitchen gadget from blogger extraordinaire, BOSSY.

Here’s what Meg did with her microplane zester last week:


These ingredients for Spicy Thai Meatballs turned into our Friday night snack, and were promptly inhaled as we ended our long week. So pretend I posted a photo of these tasty treats right here, but clearly I was too impaired with hunger to photograph them.

I linked the recipe here, because it’s much easier to print out, rather than the entire content of a blog page.

Just look at how lovely the orange zest for this recipe came out:


Thanks again, and remember BOSSY, you are THE blogger that does become a legend the most: