Unbelievable

My working self always saw Sunday afternoon as the start of getting ready for the workweek. Somewhere around 4 pm, I would switch from weekend mode to work mode. All of my friends recognized the pattern. If we were out of town for the weekend, they knew I would start getting antsy to head home as soon as noontime was in sight.

Well, those days ended with retirement. I'm still a gal who likes to get in bed early, but I no longer have to worry about last-minute grading, food prep, or figuring out what to wear.

Yesterday, my younger friend, Julie, and I went out for a late afternoon stroll. Since our walk took us right by a neighborhood tavern, we decided to pop in for a beer to reward ourselves for getting out and getting moving. 

"Can you believe it's been a year since I gave my official notice of retirement?' I asked, "I mean, I still can't believe it!"

Julie laughed, "I don't know about that, all I know is I can't believe I got you to have a beer at 5 on a Sunday afternoon."

Cheeseburger in Paradise

Before two of my siblings and I drove down memory lane to our childhood home, we had gone to lunch. Actually, the day started at the funeral of our older cousin, and after that we went to lunch. Walking out of the chapel, we realized that none of us really knew anyone else there, other than my cousin's immediate family. It was a group decision to skip the after-funeral gathering and grab lunch on our own. My sister, Jeen, suggested a good ol' dive bar called Swallow at the Hollow. It was on the other side of Baltimore City, but the 20-minute drive seemed worth it just to go to a place we had all heard about, just a few blocks from our first childhood home.

I suppose The Hollow wasn't always a dive bar. I'm sure when it first opened back in 1947, it was quite grand, just like the neighborhood it served. It was also the neighborhood where my dad grew up, a section of Baltimore known as Govans. His childhood home and all the streets that made up the settings for his own stories were a short walk away.

Like most dive bars, it wasn't that big. Walking in the door, the bar stretched the length of the room on the right. To the left were a few high-top tables. On the other side of the room were five or six tables. We grabbed a table on the "restaurant" side.

"I used to go to a dive bar with a friend and her dad- it was someplace he liked down on Bel Air Rd. They had the best burgers, " I announced, "that's what I'm getting."

It didn't take long before we'd all decided. There would be two burgers, one BLT, and a beer for each of us.

"I came in here with Dad one time," Mark started.

I laughed, "Dad told me about having his first martini here when he was younger. It was so strong, he couldn't talk after."

Over the next hour, we enjoyed great beer, fantastic food,  and memories galore. On the way out, we noticed a black and white photo of a larger group of young guys at the bar. It was taken in 1954, but my dad was nowhere to be found in the crowd.

It was a perfect lunch with my siblings. The only thing missing was my dad. He would have loved to be there.

Family Affair

"I know there's a stream at the end of the block. Mom would take us down there," I started, "it was down there that I swallowed a penny. What kind of mother lets her kid put a penny on their tongue?"

My sister laughed, "What kind of kid puts a penny on their tongue?"

"I was four. What did I know?"

My brother spoke up from the back seat, "Hey, that's the house where the old lady with all the cats lived!"

"And that's the Hendricks' house!" I yelled.

The three of us were driving down Hollen Rd. in Baltimore, looking for the house we lived in back in the late 1960s. I guess it was the place where all of us first lived together, along with our brother Joe, who was absent from this adventure.

Oldest brother, Mark, had already pointed out where he used to wait for the school bus. "There was a lady who lived there, and she would always throw nickels in her yard, so all the kids were always running around her yard looking for nickels."

Jeen slowed the car down once as we neared the Hendricks' house. "The big cedar trees are gone, " Mark noted.

I remember the trees well. My first friend, Frances, lived in that house, and the enormous branches were perfect climbing height for 4 and 5-year-olds. They also had a couple of rows of grape vines in the backyard. Frances' yard was the best.

Our house was down a bit on the left. 

"Mom's going to want to know if the bushes are still growing in the back," Mark said. 

Jeen and Mark were busy looking. I was busy remembering the afternoon the Daddy-Long Legs crawled on me and brought me to tears.

The bushes were gone, and before long, we were back on the road and on our way, content with our quick drive through our family history.

Cat Nap

My former cat, Scout, had an interesting way of waking me up every morning. He would hop on the dresser and use his paw to push whatever was around to the floor. It usually only took two or three things crashing onto the parquet floor to wake me from my slumber.

My current cats are content to let me sleep away the morning...to a certain point. When I was still working, my alarm went off at 5:00 AM each weekday. With early morning hours like that, five days a week, a luxurious late Saturday sleep still only meant waking up at about 7:00 AM. Even in this first year of retirement, I'm usually up no later than 7:30.

This morning, I woke to a cat jumping on my back, followed by a hissy little cat spat. I knew it had to be late. It was just past 8:30 AM. Wow, I haven't slept that late in quite some time. 

At least now I know when the feline patience wears out.

Fox on the Run

I was surprised by a quick flash of orange and black fur running through the backyard.  It's been a while since I've seen a fox around my house, but even when they've been more frequent, I'm always taken aback when I see one. That was this morning, and I had pretty much forgotten about the quick encounter until this afternoon, when I watched two sleeping cats bolt up and to attention.

I was on the phone at the time, so I couldn't figure out what all the commotion was about. When I finally moved over toward the back window, I got a full view of a beautiful fox standing on my back patio. She was beautiful with a full, rich coat of fur. Older cat Edgar stood with his ears at full perk, trying to assess the situation. Younger cat Alice must have sensed danger-she often does-because she scurried off like a mouse being chased by a cat without a sound.

I watched as the fox turned toward me and stared. And then just like that, she strolled off to the cover of a clump of overgrown bushes in the middle of the back courtyard. Maybe I'll see her again tomorrow, if not, I'll keep looking and listening...and hoping there may be some kits to see in the future.

Good Morning Baltimore

My dad was the king of storytelling, especially when it came to his old neighborhood and his family. Anything I know about his family and his ancestors' immigration from Ireland and Scotland to Baltimore is because of the stories that he's told. His stories have become my own.

Growing up, there was a portrait of a stern, gray-haired woman that hung on the wall in our living room. She had the kind of eyes that followed you around the room. Honestly, I think we were all. a wee bit scared of the person we called the old woman. These days, she leans against the wall in my mom's basement. The basement is scary enough for me, simply because I feel like if my dad was going to pay a visit from the beyond, it would be in the basement. Whenever I find myself down there, I prepare myself for a ghostly run-in. I haven't seen him yet, but that doesn't stop me from taking a breath when I see that old portrait leaning up against the cinderblock wall.

Fortunately, I've saved many of the emails my dad sent about his family history. He was into his own genealogy way before Ancestry.com arrived on the scene. Most of his research was conducted through family interviews and a collection of pictures passed down through the family. Today I came across some information about that scary old woman. I remembered the stories, but had never figured out her real relation to me.

That old woman is actually my second-great-grandmother, Bessie Kearney Fisher.  She was born in 1835 in the county of Kildare, Ireland. By the time she was 21 years old, she was married and living in Baltimore, MD. He didn't have much information about when she arrived, but his mother told him that when she sailed to the US, her vessel was becalmed in the middle of the ocean. For about two weeks, there was nothing to eat but oranges. By the time she finally made it to Baltimore, she knew one thing- she never wanted to see another orange.

I've let my own Ancestry subscription lapse recently. After finding my dad's old emails and family newsletters, I think it's time to pick that subscription back up so I can continue where he left off.

Galway Girl

I may have some Irish DNA, but I'm not a lover of the traditional corned beef and cabbage St. Patrick's Day meal. This evening, I decided to pair my Guinness with Butter Chicken, Naan, and a vegetable Samosa.

If you think about it, India and Ireland have a few things in common (besides the double I used in the spelling of each country.

Obviously, they both had their own struggles as part of the British Empire. That's pretty much the only connection I could make between the two countries, so I turned to the internet for a little more Ireland/India trivia. A quick search showed that many soldiers and administrative staff in India were from Ireland. By the time the 1890s rolled around, seven of eight British provinces in British India were governed by Irishmen.

India and Ireland were both interested in gaining their independence from Britain, so much so that they formed the Irish Indian Independence League. Apparently, an Irish woman is credited with composing parts of the music for the Indian National Anthem. Even today, the two countries maintain close diplomatic ties. Not surprisingly, there is a large Indian community alive and well in Ireland.

Note to self- look for Indian restaurants on my next trip to Ireland.

Cheers!

Click Click

I don't mind sliding into the MRI machine, but I certainly don't love the experience. That was until today.

My back has all kinds of issues, and since my last MRI was about ten years ago, my doctor thought it was time to get some new scans. I can't say I remember much about the experience ten years ago, but I do remember it wasn't pleasant. It could be that I had a higher level of pain back then, and lying on my back was the last thing I wanted to do, especially for 30 minutes or more. 

Today's experience was the opposite. After lying back on the table, the tech raised my legs and placed a pillow under my knees to take the pressure off my lower back.  A second tech was gently placing earplugs in my ears. Tech one then explained that she would give me a pair of reflective glasses that would allow me to watch a calming video while the test took place. She placed headphones on my ears, reflective glasses on my eyes, and pressed the button to slide me into the machine.

The next thing I knew, I was watching sunny beach scenes, followed by swimming dolphins and other underwater life. At the bottom of the screen was a countdown bar that showed me how much time had passed and how much time was left. Yes, all the loud clicks and machine groans were still there, but I just dreamed about being at the beach. Just about the time a playful group of pandas showed up on screen, it was over, and I was slowly emerging from the MRI tube.

Some Guys Have All The Luck

It's been over 6 years since I've made it to Irish Bingo at the catholic church my sister goes to. Six years later, not much has changed. Yet again, everyone in our group came home empty-handed. We did not win a jackpot on regular bingo or on the special bingo rounds that cost an extra $5 per card. We did not win a door prize. We did not win anything in the Big 6 Wheel game. We did not win a darn thing.

We did have fun, and we all agreed that we'll be back next year. Perhaps our luck will change.

Cat Scratch Fever

Another cat fight just erupted on the couch. For whatever reason, my female diva cat has one goal in life. That goal is to make sure she gets whatever spot my older cat is sleeping upon. She's younger but claimed everything as hers the minute she arrived. It didn't matter that she was the new cat in the household or that my older cat had already claimed the kingdom as his own when he arrived four years before.

That Alice, she shows no fear.  Unless somebody comes through or knocks at the front door. In that case, she scurries upstairs and hides under the bed until she's sure the coast is clear.

Poor Edgar. The disgust he feels anytime she's around is marked by every hiss that emits from his mouth. 

After the scuffle, he pulls himself together and sits next to me on the arm of the sofa. He glares as Alice sleeps. I tell him it's okay to give it right back to her, but he'd rather sit with me and get some head and neck scratches.

Changes

Read more. Scroll less. Those are two goals on my list for 2026. So far this year, the reading is going better, but the scrolling...not so much.

Honestly, almost everyone I know is working to break up with their scrolling habit. However, those app designers make it difficult. And Instagram? It's like a big bowl of french fries! Certainly, my retired status doesn't help much either.

Yesterday, while scrolling through the gram (ironic, right?) I read about how it's best to avoid your phone and all those fun apps for the first thirty minutes of the day. Grabbing my phone is usually one of the first things I do- mostly to check the time, but then I might see the need to play a round of Words With Friends. Eventually, one app leads to another, and I'm all in reading something linked from somewhere.

This morning I got up and left my phone alone. I headed downstairs, brewed up my morning coffee, and settled in with my book. It was quite relaxing, in fact, it was so relaxing that I read for almost an hour. Throughout the day, I worked to read rather than scroll when given a few minutes of downtime.

I like this thirty-minute rule; not only does it cut down on phone time, it also allows for more reading.

Winning

After posting about the hole in my life caused by the discontinuation of Red Oval Farms Stoned Wheat Thins, I went down a bit of a rabbit hole. Even though I have thought about those crackers over the years, I never thought about why they left the shelves. Some digging came up with the possibility of supply shortages causing the powers to be to look for what cuts could be made. It could also be related to a class action lawsuit against Nabisco for false advertising. While all that was nice to know, it still didn't bring back my favorite cracker.

Luckily, an old post on Reddit did. I wasn't the only one missing my favorite crunchy cracker, so were many other Reddit users. Someone even took the time to identify other crackers most like ROFSWT. In no time at all, I was ordering Wellington Stoned Wheat Crackers from that big internet company.

Guys...they are awesome! It's easily been 6 years or more since I've enjoyed that salty crunch, but those days are gone! I can't wait to share my findings with others who miss ROFSWT just as much as I do.

The Climb

Anyone who was stuck working inside today in the DC area most likely wished they weren't. It was another stunner of the day with skies on full blue and the breeze button set to mild. My plan was to clean out a closet in the spare bedroom, but it didn't take much self-convincing to push that to another day and set out on my bike.

My bike got a major overhaul back in September, but because of wrist surgery, today was the first time I actually took it for a spin. As expected, there was nature showing off all over. I spied my first sightings of daffodils swaying in the breeze, and turtles sunning themselves on a log protruding from the shore of the Potomac. One thing I didn't expect to see was a Corgi with red sunglasses riding on the handlebars like some furry hood ornament. That was a nice distraction from the hill I was suffering through.

By the time I got back home, the feels-like temperature was 89- much warmer than I expected. It made that last hill a tough one, so tough in fact that I even walked my bike a little. At first, I was a little disappointed in myself, but in the end, I'll just use that disappointment as motivation for the next ride.

April Come She Will

During the winter months, I abstain from getting pedicures. Not only does it give my nails a break, but it gives my wallet one too. The exception was on February 16, when I decided my younger sister should celebrate her milestone birthday with a pedicure, drinks, and snacks.

Today I am glad I joined her in that celebration. The weather in Alexandria was stunning with blue skies and the temperature in the upper 70s. I rummaged through my closet in search of a pair of sandals. Without much effort, I was able to pull out and dust off a silver pair of Birkenstocks. 

Walking to the car to meet some friends for lunch, I took a quick stop to enjoy the tweeting of the birds, the blue skies, and the warm sun on my face. Looking down, I smiled when I saw my purple-pedicured toes out for all to see.

Yes, I know rain and cooler temps are on the horizon, but today it felt more like mid-April than mid-March. That was a good thing.

Sundown

The first evening of daylight saving time always messed me up in the past. Here it is 7:30 pm, and finally the sun is going down. That was always a problem, those first few weeks after the clocks shifted.

However, that was working Mary's problem. I was always fooled by the light. I was fooled into thinking I had plenty of time before I needed to think about making dinner. Before I knew it, my 6:00 pm dinnertime became my 7:00 pm dinnertime. And that dinner time messed with my 9:00 pm bedtime.

Retired Mary still goes to bed on the early side, but not at 9:00 pm. I'm not worried about a later dinner. In fact,  I sat down for dinner at 7:00 tonight without an ounce of anxiety about getting cleaned up, ready for work, and in bed by 9:0 pm.

That is just one more positive for retirement.

Memories

By the time my family moved to Bel Air, MD, in the summer of 1974, the Harford Mall had been open for over a year. The mall was built on the site of the old Bel Air Racetrack. 

The mall was the center of my teen years in Bel Air. There was obviously the shopping, or whatever you called what a 12-year-old was buying those days. In my early years at the mall, I spent most of the time at either the arcade or the movie theater. It was in those theaters that I saw Star Wars at least 3 times the first weekend it came out. 

As I got older, the record bins at Korvette's were the place to be. Ed and I would spend hours flipping through all the latest releases. The first record I ever bought was by the band Boston, and I purchased it at the Harford Mall Korvette's.

The mall was where everyone congregated on Friday night. Parents usually dropped kids off at the doors by the arcade and theater entrance. From there, it was free-roaming up and down the corridors. Popular stops were Spencer's Gifts, Fashion Bug, and Radio Shack. If a snack was needed, there was always a slice of pizza from the Orange Bowl or a soft pretzel from the blonde sisters who ran the pretzel cart.

I watched the Bicentennial fireworks light up the sky from the mall parking lot. Each summer, the carnival would set up, and my neighbor Suzanne and I would walk around looking for cute boys in the hopes they might notice us. Then there would be the awkward talking and shuffling of our feet. I don't think either of us ever found teen love there, but we didn't give up trying.

The mall is about to shut down. I suppose 53 years is a good run. My sister and I talked about eating at Friendly's one more time, but we never got there. It has become another ghost mall that will eventually be torn down to create an open shopping center that is popular these days.

Maybe the mall is out of style right now, but boy, it was happening back then.

The Ladies Who Lunch

I've been driving around with a package in the back of my car for about a month now. Inside the package is a pair of tap shoes that I'm supposed to deliver to my niece, who lives in DC.  A week ago, we finally made a plan to meet for lunch. Since she works from home on Fridays, I thought it would be easy to zip into town for lunch and the shoe drop-off. I texted her as soon as I finished up with a morning appointment. 

I'm on my way from Tyson’s. I should be there around noon. See you soon!

Her response confused me.

We actually decided to cowork today at a cafe! I'm at Big Bear Cafe

I meant to tell you right when we got here and then my boss called me.

I couldn't understand why, on a day she was scheduled to work from home, she would head out to a cafe and "co-work" with her colleagues who could also be working from home. I mean, wouldn't it have been easier to just co-work in the office?

Nonetheless, I adjusted my GPS and headed for the cafe. 

Driving through DC is always fun for me. I passed by GW and the dorm where my friend lived back in the 1980s. I passed by my dad's old office and zipped around an assortment of circles like I knew what I was doing. When I made the last left on R Street, I recognized the building that housed the cafe. I had been there with Megan before, but didn't recall the name.

It wasn't that warm, but plenty of people were set up outside with big cups of steaming caffeine and open laptops.  Walking through the door, I spotted Megan in the back corner. Her boyfriend and roommate, Keith, was also there with his open laptop.

I laughed as I sat down. "Oh, so this is what you meant by co-working? I couldn't understand why you and your co-workers would all meet at a cafe to telework. Now I get it."

She laughed, "Yeah, that would be silly."

Silly me, I thought.

Tip Toe Thru' the Tulips

The purple crocuses have started popping through the soil that was partly covered in snow only a few days ago. The forsythia are blooming their familiar yellow flower, and the buds of the trees are emerging as well. Most mornings, I hear the familiar bird songs of the robin and others through my open bedroom window.

Yes, spring is right around the corner. The signs are everywhere!

Unfortunately, the less pleasant signs have emerged as well. Those include a sinus headache, scratchy throat, and stuffy nose. I love spring in the DC area, but allergy season is another story.

I have stocked up on the appropriate medicines, saline rinses, and tissues. I'm making chicken noodle soup later today in hopes of getting back to feeling 100%. All of it comes with the territory of enjoying springtime in DC. 

Even so, I will happily (most of the time) suffer through my seasonal allergies just to witness the glory of the season. I know most people think about the cherry blossoms that surround the Tidal Basin. But have you ever seen the beauty that is a field of tulips as they stand tall? That is a sight to see and completely worth the sneezes that precede their arrival.

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

A friend of mine called me yesterday with a giddy hello.

"Guess what?"

"What?" I asked.

"I'm all signed up for Medicare!"

So, that's how old we are. This same girl is one of the first people I met when I moved into Caroline Hall at St. Mary's College of Maryland. Kit lived next door and will always be remembered for trying to sell me Avon. That was back in August of 1980- we've been friends ever since.

I can't say it was the Avon pitch that solidified our friendship, but we did enjoy strolling around our waterfront campus with a large cup of beer, all while solving what we considered to be the pressing issues of the day.

Since then, Kit and the rest of the SMC gals have been a constant in my life. We've been through all of life's highs and lows. The great thing about hanging out with the college girls is that we all see each other just as we did back in the 1980s.

Eight of us got together over the weekend for a belated holiday gift exchange/slumber party. The evening is always a blast, full of food and laughter. Then there's the morning after having less than optimal sleep and more than recommended amounts of alcohol. Yes, the morning is a little quieter, but even so, we're all still smiling and talking.

I'm so thankful for all my friends, but when it comes to figuring out all the retirement stuff, I'm thankful for my older friends like Kit. Next year, when it's my turn to sign up for Medicare, she'll be one of the first calls I make.

Raindrops Are Falling On My Head

The day started early this morning as I headed out for a quick medical appointment. The skies were gray and spitting chilly drops of water as I hugged my coat closer and dashed to the car. It was definitely colder than I thought it should be. A damp chill seeped into my bones.

Arriving back home, I scrambled up some eggs, hoping a little protein would energize me for a few chores around the house.

It didn't.

Next, I tried doing a little cardio at the gym. That didn't work either.

Once back home, I noted how peaceful my two cats were, all curled up on the sofa

I decided to lean into the dreariness of the day, grabbed a blanket, and curled up right next to them. 

Unfortunately, the sun may not show until the end of the week. It may be a few days before those chores get done.

Glory Days

My 90-year-old mother was sitting across the table from me, enjoying her onion pizza while recounting her glory years.

"Rita, Janet, and Liz all belonged to different golf clubs. So, when I was down in Florida, I had three different courses I could play on. It was great."

My parents never owned a condo in Florida, but many of my mom's friends did. She opted to rent a place nearby for an extended winter getaway. Every January, she would pack up her car and head south, determined to get 12 hours of driving under her belt. She would spend the night in Ocala, so the last leg of the trip to Naples would be only about 4 hours the next morning.

My father was not a beach guy. On family vacations, he spent his time wrapped up under towels beneath the umbrella. He went to the beach because it made his wife (and children) happy. It's not surprising that he didn't spend much time in Florida during her winter break. He'd go down for a week or so, but not much more.

I've had a lot of lunches with my mom lately. Each and every time she tells me about the good times in Florida. There was golf, dinners out, beach time, and more golf. I can tell by the way she talks how much she misses those days. Those days when all of her friends were still alive, and her own body was without the issues she's been having the last few years. 

"That's the thing about the good ol' days, Mom. You don't realize you're in the midst of them until they've already passed."

"Ain't that the truth?" she smiled.

Missing You

 

A college friend was in town to attend a rescheduled holiday gathering. Each year, my close group of St. Mary's College friends gets together for a night of food, drink, laughter, and gift-giving.  What used to be a night out to dinner has turned into a full-on ladies' slumber party, complete with kitchen-dance parties and very little sleep.

"I'm heading out to the store. Do you need anything?" 

"Thanks, yes! I could use some crackers."

"What kind?" I asked.

Robin looked down, wrinkled her nose a bit, and considered her response. 

I drew in a breath.

"It's just...," Robin replied, "it's just, I miss-"

"Stone Wheat Thins!" I finished.

What transpired next was a 10-minute eulogy to the demise of Red Oval Farms Stoned Wheat Thins, a cracker that was a staple in my life since sometime around 1982. Of all the crackers out there, this cracker was like no other. It was delicious, whether it was served with a slice of cheese or on the side of a bowl of chili.

I was introduced to this very important cracker at the same time I first met my friend Juli. Up to that point, the only crackers I knew were Premium or Ritz.

The Stoned Wheat Thins and I had a good run. I munched on them through my twenties, thirties, forties, and fifties. And then, sometime in my early sixties, they were gone. I spent most of the COVID years on a low-carb diet known as "Lazy Keto."  By the time I was ready to taste them again, the distinct blue box with a Red Oval had disappeared from the shelves. I had more than a few grocery aisle conversations about the box missing from the shelves, and didn't get many answers until the internet informed me that Red Oval Farms had discontinued the cracker in 2022.

Add this cracker to the things absent from the world that I miss at least once a month. It's at the top, followed by the band REM, and the actor Philip Seymour Hoffman.