What are you reading?

Jackie and Maria

Recently, my husband and I flew on Allegiant Airline from Florida to Albany, New York. The plane was on time, a direct flight, and the staff accommodating and friendly.

However, I hope I never have to fly this airline again.  

Why? There are caveats, aka; Allegiant’s nickel and dime approach to flying.

Ordering the tickets on-line was a nightmare. I’d purchased two round-trip tickets, I thought. The total cost was $659.50, and included two seats, (neither one of us wanted to stand on the trip), the fee to carry-on our bags and the cancellation option. The constant pop-ups through-out the process made me dizzy. I even signed up for their credit card, because I thought I had to.

Twenty-four hours before, I checked myself-in. But couldn’t check-in my husband.

Come to find out, after hanging on hold for one plus hours, and listening to a constant reminder to resolve your flight concerns on-line, I spoke to a human. They convinced me I’d purchased only one ticket. I argued. . . that can’t be. . . I paid for two seats.

So, I bought an additional ticket, last minute, paid again for the seat next to me, that I’d already paid for, and checked luggage for a cost of $ 461.50.

When everything was said and done, the cost for two round trip tickets was $1,121.00!

I was in tears and my husband standing behind me said, “Pay them whatever they want, you can’t go alone.” I felt like a hostage and he was paying ransom.

ONE THOUSAND AND ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-ONE DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS, to fly from Florida to New York, on Allegiant, the cheap airline.

Now do the math. The flight was full, 180 seats. If every passenger paid $461.50, the airline took in $90,000. If they paid $659.50, the take would be $118.710.

So, Allegiant collected between 90 and 119 thousand dollars for a two hour and fifteen-minute direct flight.

 But. . . money was made elsewhere. Snacks and beverages; and you pay for water. The only thing free was use of the toilet. Rumor has it toilet paper will be an add on soon.

Last, but not least, (don’t get you panties in a twist) you must have the Allegiant app on your phone, or print your boarding pass at home, otherwise it will cost you $5 to have it printed at the airport.

Whew! Talk about stress. I thought I would lose my mind.

BUT! We landed early!

                                                               * * *

The sun was out the first day of our vacation and the next, for our family gathering. It was wonderful.

However, it rained everyday thereafter.

 Fortunately, my sister, Mel, gave me a book.  Jackie and Maria, by Gill Paul (historical-fiction) and I couldn’t put it down.

I often quote Jackie Kennedy Onassis’s response to the interview question, “Mrs. Kennedy, what is your greatest accomplishment? Jackie said, “I didn’t lose my mind.” I guess she never flew Allegiant.

After reading Jackie and Maria, it was a miracle she didn’t. Evidently though, she was a compulsive shopper.  I totally enjoyed this read.

You’ll find more reviews on goodreads.    

                                                                                         . . . just saying

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It’s Fathers Day

Sweet Memories

The pedaling of an old man riding a wide-tire bicycle grabs my attention as I drive Acoma road. The methodical around and around of the bike’s wheels is mesmerizing.  I press the car brakes, slow to a crawl and drop back, to give the senior space, as we approach the corner stop.

He wears red Keds, and a large droopy straw hat shades his face from the morning sun. He sports a long sleeve plaid shirt and hazardous baggy Dockers. The blue and chrome fender bike has no basket or hand brakes.

Behind him rides a man in a metallic Speedo shirt, and black skin-tight shorts.  He wears a helmet and mustache, and he does not pass abruptly. Instead, he moves to coast gently beside the elder, a solid traffic barrier.  They ease the corner, two abreast, like dancing a Minuet synchronized to Chopin.

I stop at the corner. . . rather than go straight. I turn right. . . and follow them, absorbing their relationship.

They are a pair. Paternal. Their head, back, and shoulders are a younger/older version, of the other.  The son deliberately peddles ahead, never looks back, but hoovers; and allows his father to ride independently. The old man’s bike wheels don’t wobble. The handlebars do not shake. There is an air of pride accompanying his movement.

As they resume their single file adventure, I drive by, see his wrinkled face, and guess the elder is eighty. I catch a glimpse of the son’s full head of peppered gray hair, and face with minimal expression lines, when passing, and guess . . . he’s nearing sixty.

My mind conjures a past Father’s Day,

I imagine it is 1958, the father wears the same plaid shirt, Dockers and Keds. The son, is dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. The father, leads the way with subtle protectiveness and allows the son to celebrate his newly acquired skill, riding a bike.

“Daddy, look at me!” He yells with a big smile.

Today is Father’s Day 2012. I watch the pair celebrate with the simple act of being together. Pedaling their bicycles, and needing each other in a different way.

                                                                               . . . just saying

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*Post was originally published in 2012, over ten years ago.

Plastic. . . That’s What We Need to Talk About

Remember the movie The Graduate? It was released in 1967 and has become more relevant over time. One scene kept flashing through my mind as I read an Associated Press newspaper article* about the future of plastic. It’s a graduation … Continue reading

A Cozy Life

BEL AIR FINE ART Studio Saint Tropez France

Cozy, that’s the genre I was recently told my novel fits. So, I got out my thesaurus.

Cozy implies; pleasant, comfortable, homelike, conversational, intimate, happy, or blissful.

Basically, without stress. I’m done with laser fast pace plots that make me pull my hair out. Novels with shock endings, or the reader is left hanging, or the ending is just bazaar.

How about you? What genre do you enjoy?

Today, the 147th day of the year, I asked myself, Do I have a cozy life?

Yes, despite the numerous daily challenges. My husband was rushed to the hospital last Sunday. I say he dodged another bullet, and fortunately home on Tuesday. Then Bob’s brother-in-law died and his family of origin is creating chaos. Their primary complaint and I quote, “Nobody told them (seven siblings and their mother, who are less than 10 miles away) he was in the hospital.” We are 1200 miles away. The man died on his BIRTHDAY!

Then there is the mundane. The electricity on the patio stopped working, the inside of the dishwasher is rusted and leaves orange marks on the plates. But the plates are clean. And the sprinkler system turns on in the rain. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m still walking crooked.

But, let us not loose perspective, I’m not living in the Ukraine, nor with the despot, Putin.

Although the three-ring USA political circus is about to begin.

We are constantly being shocked by world events, and the media’s attempt to report a breaking big story, interrupting TV shows and stunning readers with inflammatory headlines. There is so much conflict, hate, and turmoil in the world, please don’t let it spill into entertainment, give us a break.

                                                                                      . . . just saying

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Words Matter

Does every word count?

Writers think so! They think grammar and punctuation does too.

Discussions about a comma can be endless. Even a pause makes a difference to a writer. Remember Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County?

However, word choice trumps all of that, and has greater value or impact today.

But, writers are schooled to use actions verbs.

This is when a thesaurus is worth its weight in gold.

Instead of hate. . . a writer might use, dislike, prefers, or never cared for. Instead of angry he could choose, annoyed, upset or bothered.

For example;

                    John hates people who wear purple underwear.

                     John dislikes people who wear purple underwear.

However, both sentences have a problem. John is being targeted, not his underwear. The person hates yellow underwear. (I have no preference about other people’s underwear or if they wear underwear. However, . . . I cringe at the latest fashion, t-strap bikini swimwear.)

I’m getting sidetracked. Back to the point, what you say has power.

Man sentence for Murder, a story in this Sunday’s Daytona New Journal, got my attention. After reading the article I felt sorry for the man.

Here’s what happened. Joel Tatro told James Z. Powell, 15 at the time, he was not invited to and had to leave a gathering at Tatro’s home in 2019. Powell left and came back and shot the homeowner. Paralyzed from the neck now, the homeowner lived for three more years, then died from COVID.

James Z. Powell chose these words to express his condolences to the Tatro family.

Quote from the newspaper. “But this situation was never supposed to happen. This was a COVID death, sir. I never had no intention of doing no harm to him. I’m not the person that they are trying to paint me to be. I’m not a criminal. I’m not a gang member. I’m just me.

                                                                                     

. . . just saying

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Obsession or Procrastination

The Days of My Life

Is decluttering an obsession or a form of procrastination? Regardless, there is no time for writing. Here’s my latest pastime, finding a home, not mine, for the perfectly good items I no longer use or want. Like; a Garmin, or the shower head that was replaced, or curtain rod brackets. I save the plastic containers strawberries and other food items come in. I can see what is in each box and they snap shut. But, do you know how much effort and time goes into removing the old labels? There was no time for new labels. That’s on next’s week to do list. I probably won’t have time to write. Besides it was garbage day.

I am preoccupied with getting my house in order, i.e., fixing the outdoor water spigot that spits water in my face when turned on, or replacing the entrance way light bulb twenty feet above ground. Do you know anyone who will come to my house with a ladder? I am willing to pay.  

Is it anxiety? Some people take a pill, and that is fine. I scrub, run the sweeper, and organize. I want the towels folded just right and my underwear stacked by color in the dresser. My life is about tidying-up, and how did get to be so?

Perhaps it’s about control. The world has become chaotic. We wake up to another mass shooting, unprovoked invasion of countries, and weather disasters.

I want hospital corners on the bed and the pillows fluffed.

                                                                                     

. . . just saying

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De-cluttering

The Days of My Life Series

One night last week I could not sleep. Well, that is not totally true. I slept until 4:30 am and could not get back to sleep; probably because the handy-man was coming to install more shelving in the closets. So, I got out of bed at 5:30am.

Since I was up so early there was time to do the daily Wordle, before emptying the closets. I am hooked on the word game. Now I have something to look forward to in the morning. However, I debate whether to press play before my first cup of coffee, or wait until later in the day. Once it is done, the thrill is gone. . .though the satisfaction lingers. My friend, Pat, said she has gotten out of bed at 12:01am to play. Sounds like an addiction, that might be called wordling.

Please, tell me your thoughts and Wordle techniques.

Let me go back to the shelving, which cost more ($500.) than the labor, but was well worth the expense. Now I have every single cleaning product in one place. I know where my winter coats are and an extra shelf in the primary bedroom for storage. The garage attic, although pathetically small, is empty. I still have stuff to get rid of, like six boxes of photo albums. Nobody is dying anytime soon, but I don’t want my clutter to be someone else’s headache.

                                                                                      . . . just saying

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Mother Nature and Normal

 Back To Normal

We were lucky not to be hard hit by hurricane Ian. That is not the case for much of Florida and many west coast areas will never be the same. We were without power for one day due to heavy rains and wind. But any down tree branches were easily hauled to the street by us.

It is with great angst that I post the picture of clean-up in our neighborhood.

The pictures for Sanibel Island and Fort Worth are devastating. The death toll for Florida was high, seventy-seven. A few of those deaths were in our area. One, a man in his seventies, attempted to empty water from his pool (to avoid flooding into his home) slipped down an embankment into a pond and drowned.

A sixty-eight-year-old woman tourist went to the beach to view Ian and while standing on A1A was swept away by a swell; into the ocean, and dragged out to sea. That’s how powerful the surge was.

Newly restored Flager Beach Pier was swept sideways and under water. New Smyrna beach and Port Orange had extreme flooding, loss of power and business in their area are just now starting to open.

My heart breaks for those who did not fare well.

Today the weather is perfect. No humidity, temperatures below normal and sunny. I wonder what Mother Nature is thinking.

(The pictures below were in today’s newspaper and show the damage south of us in Daytona Beach and Port Orange.)

                                                                                      . . . just saying

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Morning Mushrooms

Morning Mushrooms

Most of the country is experiencing record heat. In Florida it’s compounded by humidity. This time of year, I stay indoors. However, last night’s downpour provided some relief and this morning I sat outside, read the newspaper and drank a cup of hot coffee.

That’s when I discovered mushrooms growing in my Geranium plant. The plant is frequently dry and the leaves turn brown, consequently I have been watering it more.

I don’t plan on eating these bright yellow mushroom, but I need help, please.

What type are they?

Should I remove them?

Why are they growing here?

. . . just saying

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Florida Sunsets and Friends

Florida Sunsets and Friends

Today was quiet and yet I’m exhausted. Our grand kids came for Sunday dinner. We have enjoyed the weekly ritual since they moved here in January. Janine prepared a new pasta dish, Rigatoni with zucchini sauce. I didn’t have to do everything just some things and still I’m dog tired and ready for bed, but thankful; I have their support and friends.

People I can phone in the middle of the night and say, “I have a flat tire. Can you pick me up?”

They’d answer, “Where are you?” Then say, “I’ll be there in . . .”

Many of these people I’ve known for sixty years. Others for twenty-five or thirty. Some for only a few.

I’m lucky!

    . . . just saying

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