Two for Tuesday: Mysteries

Two ducks in Los Angeles (my photo)

I read these books in August to discuss with my online book club.

1. Every Last Lie by Mary Kubica. This book was disappointing. Kubica used present tense for the “now” and for the past, and then she mixed in further past in the past sections, for which she used past tense. It wasn’t confusing as much as it was simply annoying and distracting. I have a big issue with jumping timelines in general, unless the story is compelling, which this wasn’t. It could have simply been told straight up chronologically without all the jumping. 

I understand that book club questions focus on the big themes, but I am not inclined to delve into those when the writing itself irritates me. I mean, there are a zillion mystery novels where we find out disturbing facts about a dead character, so that’s not interesting in itself. There’s nothing about this particular dead guy that I found intriguing, nor did I find his widow’s reaction or behavior relatable.

The main characters made the stupidest decisions to the point where they simply weren’t believable after a few chapters. A dentist decides to start betting on basketball games when his business isn’t going well. A mom keeps leaving her kids in the hot car to chase after specks of “evidence.” She takes a 4 year old’s bad dream as “proof” of a crime. She keeps lying to the 4 year old and saying daddy will be home soon when he’s dead. A dental patient deliberately lets an infection fester and almost dies just so she can sue the dentist. What?! On and on. I didn’t like any of the characters except for Clara’s dad and the dog. 

I don’t know why I am even giving this book two stars instead of one. The ending was good.

2. Mad Mabel by Sally Hepworth. Three stars. Started out sorta slow, but it became more interesting after a few chapters. There were some twists I saw, and some I didn’t, so that was cool. I like to be surprised, but only if the twist is earned. Characters were interesting and layered, except for a couple bad guys. The ending was a bummer.

I try to use a logical scheme for book ratings, but it’s difficult when I mix in my feelings, such as giving an indie/ friend four or five stars for encouragement (and generally they have very few ratings to begin with). Sally H is a popular author, especially in the book club communities, so I don’t feel the same obligation to help her. For example, she has over 200K ratings for Mad Mabel on Goodreads! I’m also inclined to bump up a star if the author tries something different because so many books are the SOS. I liked that the narrator of MM was a cranky old lady, but when we got into the details of the abuse and bullying she suffered as a child, it became ridiculous. The “saving grace” was the first person narrator, which made me say OK we often exaggerate both the bad and good parts of our past in our own minds, particularly when we obsess over them. We know that memories can change the more they are examined, even if retold only to ourselves.

This is an important point regarding POV. I know most readers don’t think about the mechanics of storytelling overmuch, but there’s a huge difference between a first person narrator telling us what she remembers and an omniscient or even a limited omniscient narrator telling us the facts. When I try to discuss these POV points or other writing mechanics, such as the chosen tense, with my book club peeps, I get crickets or blank stares. I’m not sure how someone can read a sh!t ton of books and not be aware of these things, but I guess that’s a failure on my part to understand other humans. It wouldn’t be the first time!

A Thousand Views

Abacus image from Pixabay

Yesterday (Sunday, July 5) I had over a thousand views on this blog. Since April A2Z, I generally get about 200 per day, sometimes 300 if I link to a prompt, so this was surprising (prior to April I had fewer than 100 per day). Many of the new views were via Infidel linking to my fireworks post (thanks!), but most were in the “other” group, with no referring URL or keyword noted. Loads of views were from Portugal and Brazil. Does this have something to do with the World Cup? I never mention sports! So, I don’t know what’s going on or how people are finding Light Motifs when I don’t have the “allow search engines to find your blog” box checked off in settings. 

Just like back on Wordpress, the massive increase in page views doesn’t translate into comments. I’ve been receiving about the same amount of comments as usual despite the surge in views. It seems that people hit up the blog, check out the first post, and immediately lose interest. Or maybe they’re bots, but how would bots get here if I don’t show up in a search?

I know, I know… the stats are as meaningless as they’ve always been, but they do spark my curiosity.

Quesadilla Hodgepodge

Quesadilla at Mother’s Market, HB

I’m participating in the Wednesday Hodgepodge this week, which is hosted by Joyce @ from this side of the pond. 

1. What’s something you may do this month?

This Saturday I may (hope to) visit my son-in-law who is recuperating from yesterday’s surgery; I will visit with my daughter too, of course. This Sunday I may (plan to) visit my younger daughter, her hubby, and my grands. I miss them. I also may (if I have time) switch my shower curtain for a more turtley one. Love turtles!

2. Hola! Hodgepodge Day lands just after Cinco de Mayo… how do you feel about Mexican food? What’s your favorite dish? Do you make it at home or is it strictly a dine out option?

It’s complicated. I love chips and guacamole, loaded nachos, quesadillas, and margaritas, but all that is terrible, health wise. (I am not judging your choices, only my own.) So, I avoid it. If we have Mexican food for lunch at work, I generally order a salad. Sometimes I order a veggie quesadilla in a restaurant ~ Mother’s, in particular ~ which is a delicious indulgence. I do not make any of that at home.

3. When the children of today grow up what do you think they’ll say about this time period? What do you hope they remember?

When today’s children are adults, they will look back at their childhoods through rose-tinted glasses, as most of us do, and pine for the good old days when we lived on the earth and breathed the air instead of being forced to exist in a space station. Or wherever.

I hope they remember what happens when we fail to do our duty and vote in every election, though it will likely be too late. It may already be too late.

4. What advice would you give a new mother?

Sleep as much as you can, especially when the baby is sleeping! Don’t refuse any offer of help. Easy to say: I refused my in-laws’ generous offer of hiring a mom’s helper because I didn’t want a stranger around. Silly. It would have been nice to have in retrospect.

5. What’s a phrase your mother often said to you? If you’re a mom, do you say it to your own children?

My favorite momism is: “Be more careful, honey,” after something already happened. I feel like my mom said it all the time, but even if she only said it a few times it made a big impact. Yes, I do say it to my girls and to myself, even now, but in a sarcastic tone, after we break something, make a mistake, trip over our own feet, etc. It’s definitely our thing!

6. Insert your own random thought here.

Before the April A2Z challenge this year, I followed only a dozen or so blogs, and the Blogger newsreader suited me just fine. Now that I’m following about 50 blogs, however, the Blogger newsreader doesn’t work as well: it constantly skips posts. Since it’s annoying to deal with the missing articles, I looked into separate readers and decided to use Feedly. It’s been working great (for the past 18 hours since I signed up)!

I am still trying not to slip back into my old habit of blogging like a maniac and getting all obsessed with everything. 

Some Thoughts on the A2Z Challenge

Image from Pixabay 

First, whew! That was a lot! Ever since I returned to blogging, I’ve been extremely low key. I don’t pressure myself to post every day now, nor do I jump to respond to prompts. As far as reading, pre-A2Z I followed only a dozen or so blogs (as opposed to hundreds back on WordPress), which was a minimal time commitment. When I blogged like a maniac, I got burnt out from it, plus the reading, and I want to avoid that again. So… April was a bit of a nostalgic trip in more ways than one.

Second, I apologize for slacking off on my visits and comments this last week ~ work got super busy, and I was exhausted. (NB: I am currently enjoying a four-day weekend.) I appreciated all the extra attention: it was great to have a larger group of readers and comments for a while. Visits are already dipping now that A2Z is over, and that’s OK. 

Third, I found some great new (to me) bloggers, and I have added you to my feed. It’s just the Blogspot feed, nothing fancy, but it seems to get the job done. Once in a while, the posts appear out of chronological order, so if I miss a post here or there, sorry. I hope at least some of my new readers will continue to visit and comment here as well as my faithful longtime readers. I always appreciate you guys!

Fourth, it was interesting to focus on old memories. I’m surprised at both how much I remember and also how much I have forgotten. Sometimes a scene or emotion seems clear in my mind, but the year and/or location is blurred. Usually, if a strong emotion is attached to an event, I can remember more of the details. And as a typical oldster, I can often recall a name or a number from the distant past more readily than a more recent one. 

Finally, I created a page for my A2Z links! Check it out if you wish. Please feel free to browse my book page as well ~ the books aren’t free, but they aren’t expensive either. Some of them even received decent reviews. I plan to do a few more pages soon… maybe kitty photos or poetry or favorite links, idk. We shall see!

Zoo (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Scrapbook page of zoo pics*

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we finish with Z for Zoo! Thank you for reading along with my 2026 challenge. 

My parents were always big fans of zoos, aquariums, botanical gardens, museums, etc. If there was any kind of exhibit nearby, it was likely that we would visit it. Sadly, my childhood memories of zoos and such are misty to the point of being a complete blur; I know we went, but I do not have old pics or clear recollections of any of it. The one thing I do remember is likely a false memory: I have an image in my mind of visiting a botanical garden with a "snake room," maybe in New York. The snake room was full of plants and little non-venomous serpents that roamed at will. People went in there to observe, but you weren't supposed to touch. This absolutely cannot be right, as no venue would be able to obtain liability insurance for such a thing, so I must have dreamt it.

As a teenager, I was more interested in going to amusement parks with friends than revisiting zoos, but after I had children, zoos were back on the agenda. There are two great zoos within driving distance of Orange County ~ the Los Angeles Zoo and the San Diego Zoo and Wild Animal Park. The LA Zoo is pretty "doable" in one day, though of course being old now, I will be extremely tired afterward. I went with friends once, and the jaguar was awake and prowling his exhibit, roaring very loudly as he circled around. He was magnificent! I love seeing the big cats especially tigers (but all of them really), and giraffes, elephants, snakes, and monkeys. Naturally, I adore seeing otters, but those are usually at aquariums not zoos.

The San Diego Zoo and Safari Park requires at least two days to appreciate all the attractions. The zoo properties are enormous, and even if you are super fit, it's hard to see all the critters in a single outing. One of my favorite memories has nothing to do with the animals ~ it's about my eldest daughter. She was around four years old, and she grabbed the hand of a strange daddy because pretty much all the daddies were wearing khaki pants and Hawaiian shirts. The dad uniform! We all had a big laugh. The Safari Park is partly walkable, and for some of it you ride in a tram. I usually favor the park because it has the baby big cats, but last time I did go to the zoo because we wanted to see the giant pandas in their habitat there. Red pandas live at both locations, and I love to see them as well.

There are actually two zoos within Orange County. There's one in Orange, where I went recently with a friend. It's hard to find parking there sometimes, but the whole zoo is easily walkable in one afternoon. Then there's the Santa Ana Zoo, very close to me, where they have lots of monkeys and owls. I should go back one of these days. I also love the Aquarium of the Pacific, in Long Beach, which has loads of birds and otters. Oh, and some fish as well! Last time I went there was a horrendously loud native island drum show indoors, so it ruined the experience for me, but I will definitely go again on a quieter day.

Yeah, I guess this post was a bit of a cheat because it was more about recent memories than long ago ones, but whatever. We're done! Yippee!

*This scrapbook page goes very well with my zoo post because it is actually an A2Z scrapbook, where I created rhymes to go with the photos on each page. 

Yellow (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

 

My mom, my daughters, and me, around 1996

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with Y for Yellow on the penultimate day of the challenge!

When I was little, I didn't like yellow, orange, red, or pink. I loved blues, greens, and purples, in all their various shades. I liked to combine blues with browns, as this reminded me of the earth and sky, the sand and sea. I even had light blue glasses frames for a while. My first serious office job at age 18 required an update to my wardrobe, but I didn't have much cash, so I bought all mix-matched items in blues and browns, with coordinating shoes. Of course, this was February in Chicago, so it was all covered up in a big huge coat, scarf, and boots until Spring. 

Fast-forward to (a) California and (b) motherhood. I discovered leggings... in a rainbow of colors! It was fun to match with my girls sometimes, and also I began a hobby of painting tee shirts. For a while, I thought I could turn it into a business, but it would have been like Lucy's salad dressing, if you know what I mean (supplies costing more than the product price). Luckily, before that happened, I ended up with carpal tunnel syndrome from painting all day because I became a wee bit obsessed. Anyway, it was fun for several months, and we all ended up with a bunch of unique shirts in vivid colors. Even my mom got into the act.

The main takeaway here is that I discovered I loved all the colors, especially lime green, hot pink, and sunflower yellow. I even did my kitchen over in a sunflower theme because they were so cheerful and pretty. As the 1990s came to a close, and I started working at a law office, my daughters convinced me that perhaps it was time to retire the lime green leggings and hot pink tees. (Not to mention all the boots and shoes in kooky colors.) That made sense at the time. I rediscovered blue and brown, added in black and beige, a smidge of cheetah, and that was my admin “uniform.” 

Sometimes I sneak in a pop of yellow or pink to liven things up though. And on weekends, anything goes!

X-ed (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Me, around Y2K, with things I've X-ed*

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with X for X-ed.

X is a funny letter in that it marks the spot, checks the box, and can indicate approval or acceptance, but on the other hand X is also used to say an emphatic no, show disapproval, or denote a former status. We X our fingers for luck. X can represent a cross. X-mas for the holiday. It's a positive and a negative. PerpleXing! But that’s English for ya… 

In this post, I'm using X for something I quit doing. Here are some misty memories of things I have X-ed out, whether voluntarily or otherwise. Around age 5, I had piano lessons and a bit later flute lessons, both abandoned for reasons unknown, maybe moving. I had swimming lessons around age 10, then poof. I was on a bowling team for a while and dumped it. In NJ, I joined a chess club, quickly realized I wasn’t good enough, and skedaddled. In high school, I joined and left the Spanish club and the newspaper (I was the movie reviewer, lol). I did stick with my volunteer position at the creative writing magazine senior year, yay.

I started college at the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana and dropped out after a semester (finished my degree 10 years later at CSUN). I began a public speaking class in Chicago and bailed after two sessions. Kept taking dead-end jobs and dumping them throughout my 20s. Began taking the exams to become a real estate broker and quit when I realized I would have to deal with people constantly. Ish. Same with substitute teaching. I did finally find the perfect job (for me) and am coming up to 25 years, so there's that. 

Tried marriage a couple times and decided, nah, not my thing. Noped out on the whole dating/ romance world altogether. I already mentioned hobbies I gave up ~ crocheting, novel-writing, scrapbooking, painting, baking, etc. Joined and exited plenty of Meetup groups (and now barely look at Meetup at all). X-ed X and Bluesky. Medium. Substack (still there but don't really participate). WordPress of course and all my old blogs. Started and stopped Facebook a few times (am on now mainly because of a book club). Used to belong to a gym; now I don't. Tried a bunch of prescription meds and lifestyle changes to combat migraines, but most had no effect, so they got X-ed. There are probably a zillion more things I started and X-ed out of that I don't even remember.

One thing I am not quitting early is this 2026 A2Z challenge because there are only two letters left to go!

*The things in this photo I have since eXited from are collecting Beanie Babies (or anything), scrapbooking, getting perms, and wearing contact lenses.

Weddings (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Bouquet from my daughter's wedding

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with W for Weddings.

I didn’t go to weddings (or funerals) when I was little. Our family was small, and these occasions didn’t occur often; the few that did, my parents went by themselves and got a babysitter for me. Though I saw plenty of engagements and weddings on TV and read about them in romance novels, I didn’t daydream about my own. That was a good thing because I never had a fancy engagement party or an elaborate wedding and haven’t regretted it. 

My first marriage came about via an argument. I don’t recall the context, but at some point I expressed doubt about our relationship into the future, and to reassure me (I guess), he suggested we should get married. Not exactly an Instagram moment! Since we didn’t have much money, we decided to go to Vegas, impulsively, the next weekend. That was a lot of fun! I highly recommend it as a way to avoid spending a gazillion dollars and having to deal with obnoxious relatives. I don’t remember what kind of ceremony we had, other than the fact that it was cheap and not Elvis themed ~ I would have liked an Elvis impersonator to officiate, but they had to be reserved in advance. The only sad part is that we didn’t have a real wedding cake.

Well, I guess it was also sad that the marriage didn’t work out. About a year later, we separated, and I moved into my own apartment with the kitties. Since we didn’t have any shared assets or children, it was an easy-peasy divorce, final in six months. During that time I met my second ex-husband to be, and while I was not anxious to get married again so soon, he was older and wanted to commit, so we did. This time, the wedding, though small, was more traditional with a lace dress, religious ceremony, relatives, dinner, etc. But even so we did not have a real wedding cake as the hotel chef  "wasn't a baker," and I couldn't deal with having one transported. They did a baked Alaska for us, which honestly is not a great metaphor with which to begin a marriage, though this one lasted 20 years.

Since then, I've been to more weddings, including both my daughters, which were beautiful and perfect in their own ways, though different from each other. I've also been to some weddings of friends and relatives, each one interesting and special. Most of these included an actual cake. My favorite wedding however is probably the one the girls and I created for their Barbie and Ken dolls back in the ‘90s. It was quite involved and elaborate, and as far as I know, that marriage is still going strong.

Valley (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Me, in Burbank around 1983

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with V for Valley.

When my parents and I moved to Southern California in 1983, we settled in Burbank. We spent a month in a hotel until our place was ready, and that was fun. Though Burbank has often been the butt of jokes, it is (or was) a perfectly nice suburban area, not too far from all the cool things to do around Los Angeles. Burbank is on the southeastern edge of the San Fernando Valley, and so just like that I became a “Valley Girl.” Totally! I liked the townhouse my parents bought, and I loved my little sky blue Renault Alliance, which was their bribe to join them.

Reader, I would have moved without the bribe.

My first priority was to hang out at the Sherman Oaks Galleria, and it did not disappoint. As in the movies, it was loud and bright and full of bitchin' stores with a zillion cute things to buy. I liked to get a slice of pizza and a soda and sit in the food court and people-watch. Eventually, I found all the other malls, but the Galleria was by far the best one.

I had a variety of jobs after we moved and before I returned to college: computer tape librarian at Avery Label in Pasadena, insurance admin at a family owned agency close to home, secretary to a group of weird psychological testers in Los Angeles, and finally assistant to a pension plan designer (also in Burbank). That guy was so mean to me that I decided to quit work and finish my degree at CSUN. (I was lucky in that my dad had always been willing to start paying for my education again.) I ended up getting married and starting a family before I embarked on a career, which is not ideal. But here we are!

These days, I don’t go to the Valley much. My youngest daughter and her children live in LA, which is already a big trek, plus I don’t have a reason to go “over the hill.” The last time I went was several years ago to attend a birthday party at her in-laws house. 

Underdog (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

 

Me in Buffalo, NY, around 1964

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with U for Underdog.

When I was little, I loved TV, cartoons especially. I vaguely remember watching cartoons when we lived in Buffalo; I definitely remember Saturday morning cartoons when we moved to Tarrytown. Even as I grew up, I still loved them: Underdog, Rocky & Bullwinkle (and Boris & Natasha), Yogi Bear (and all his Jellystone Park friends), Tennessee Tuxedo, the Pink Panther, Magilla Gorilla, the Roadrunner (meep! meep!), the Flintstones, etc. As I mentioned before, I enjoyed the Brady Bunch... also the Partridge Family, the Munsters, the Addams Family, a Family Affair, the Courtship of Eddie's Father, and of course I Dream of Jeannie, That Girl, and Bewitched. Together with my mom, I liked to watch Star Trek, Dallas, and "Creature Feature" scary movies. Am I mixing these shows up chronologically? That's how misty memories are... like a pile of photos in a box you pull out randomly.

As a teen, I regularly tuned into Eight is Enough, One Day at a Time, Happy Days, Gilligan's Island, All in the Family and all the spinoffs, and the game shows. I don't think there was any game show I passed up ~ if it was on, I watched it. My favorites were Match Game, Hollywood Squares, Family Feud, the Price is Right, and Let's Make a Deal. Detective shows were high on my list as well: Columbo, Hart to Hart, McMillian and Wife, Magnum P.I., the Rockford Files, etc. Variety shows! Carol Burnett, Sonny & Cher, Tony Orlando & Dawn, Hee-Haw, Laugh-In (which my dad loved too). Love American Style! What a fun show that was. I didn't care much for ongoing dramas at this time; I preferred for a storyline to be complete when the show was over (with a few exceptions).

After we moved to California in 1983, I immediately became addicted to MTV. We didn't have it back in Chicago at that point due to some political shenanigans or whatever (I don't remember why). For hours I would be mesmerized by all the music videos ~ it was the greatest thing ever. Until I got bored and never watched MTV again, but that took a while. Now, in my later 20s/30s, I began to enjoy the dramas. LA Law was one of my favorites. When my girls were little, I didn't watch much TV of my own choosing; I watched the fun/ educational children's shows with them, and my ex and I rented movies for the evening. Then came the Sopranos, Six Feet Under, and of course the greatest show of all time, Breaking Bad.

I've lost my taste for "TV" though, whatever that means these days. Most movies and series are completely boring or stupid, and I can't bear watching them. The few that I love, I rewatch repeatedly, such as the Mamma Mia movies, Walking on Sunshine, the Hating Game, 27 Dresses, You've Got Mail, When Harry Met Sally, Grease, Miss Congeniality, Young Frankenstein, Chicago, etc. Some may argue that the movies on my love-list are stupid, and to that I say... pffft. The heart wants what the heart wants. I would rather read most of the time anyway than stare at some dumb new romcom or mystery miniseries. That said, around the holidays, I like to watch the most sugary, predictable Christmas romances. Why? I don't know. They usually involve baking.

Sorry for not italicizing titles. There are just too many of them here.

Tea (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

 

High tea in 2015

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with T for Tea.

At first, I wondered if this tea pic from 2015 was too recent to count as a "misty memory," but then I remembered I can do whatever I want on my own blog. Also, 2015 was more than a decade ago, yikes. My youngest daughter graduated from UCB that May, and my eldest and I plus a couple good friends from OC attended the ceremony. The next day, my daughter D took me for tea, as a belated birthday/ Mother's Day combo gift. It was my first fancy tea and so lovely. The venue was beautiful, and the dainty sandwiches and scones were all delicious. And there were endless cups of various flavors of tea! This became my new favorite indulgence; since then, I have been to several more teas with local friends, but this one in NorCal will always remain my favorite.

As far as the beverage itself, I have been a fan since my early days. Remember, I used to live in super cold places, so I needed something to warm up. I have never much liked hot chocolate, and when I was very little, I hadn't yet developed a taste for coffee. So, hot tea it was... with milk and sugar. These days, my preference is milk, no sugar, but at work I generally have it plain. Naturally, brewed tea is the tastiest tea, but I'm not so fussy and use teabags for convenience. My favorite flavors of black tea are orange spice, strawberry, almond, vanilla, and coconut. I don't like lemon or Earl Grey. Green tea is OK, but I prefer black or herbal. Every night I have a cup of herbal (also with a splash of milk) ~ I like the mango ginger, apple cinnamon, and chai spice flavors best.

One of my good friends is taking me to an afternoon tea for a birthday present in early May, and I am very much looking forward to it.

Stitchery (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

With Cyndi and a stitchery project, around 1989

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with S for Stitchery.

I have been interested in arts and crafts as far back as I can remember, and it was because of my mom. She was constantly creating something new, whether for decorative or practical purposes. She taught me how to knit and crochet when I was young (though I have forgotten both skills), and I used to make blankets and rugs for my dolls. In seventh grade, girls had to take home economics in school, and one of the projects was to embroider a denim shirt. The teacher showed us how to create the various stitches required, and it was a lot of fun. 

My shirt turned out beautifully, so that encouraged me to continue with needlecraft. I did a few other small projects with embroidery stitches, but what I really loved were the larger picture kits using yarn for the stitches, which was called crewel. I did tons of those! I also did needlepoint pictures and pillows for years. It was a super relaxing hobby and something fun to do while watching TV at night, so I didn't feel totally unproductive. When the girls were little, I made some gorgeous pictures, framed them, and put them on the walls. Unfortunately, framing was hugely expensive: a kit might cost $20 for a 16x20 fabric canvas, but to frame it nicely, with a layered mat in complementary colors, could be $200 (back in the day). Soon, I switched to pillows only.

After I went back to work full-time in 2001 and became interested in writing novels (plus blogging about them and everything else), I lost interest in stitchery. The girls and I began knitting projects one Winter Break, and I did finish a scarf, but it was very plain, done in one stitch with straight edges. A few years ago, I took a crochet class at Michael’s and made the cutest little pumpkin, so of course I went into an obsessive frenzy and bought a ton of yarn and adorable little kits to make more vegetables for a basket. Unfortunately, it turned out that my hands were too achy and my eyes were too tired to deal with such intricate detail, and I ended up giving most of my untouched kits away. I think this hobby and I have parted ways for good.

Risk (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Around age 14

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with R for Risk.

As I mentioned, as the new nerdy girl in town (Cary, IL), I didn't have much luck making friends in eighth grade. My neighborhood friend was a year older and had lost interest in hanging out with me because she wanted high school friends. Understandable. So, when freshman year rolled around, I was alone. The bio teacher asked for a lab volunteer during lunch, and since I had no one to eat lunch with anyway, I raised my hand. 

I found the following story on the Wayback Machine when I was looking for Friday Flashbacks, and since it fits the theme, I'm going to use it today for R.

The Cage Door (originally posted on my old WP blog on June 18, 2012 and edited)

When I was 14 and a freshman in high school, I had Accelerated Biology class right before lunch. The main classroom had a few creatures such as lizards and hamsters, but the more interesting animals were in the lab room. There was a four-foot long boa constrictor. The teacher said he was a bit scared of the boa because it had escaped as a baby and hid for a month until someone found him wrapped around a pipe, and also once it had struck the teacher when he was cleaning out the cage. (Cue the Disco Snakes singing: "Everybody screamed! When I struck the teacher!")

The teacher asked for a lab assistant during lunch and I volunteered.
I thought lab-assisting would be a lot of fun, but mainly it consisted of washing beakers. After a week or so, the teacher realized I could wash beakers without any help, and he quit coming in the lab with me.
One of my jobs was to rinse out the water bowls in the animals' cages and put in fresh water, including the boa’s cage if his head wasn’t near the door.

It seems surreal now that the teacher would have given me this task. Would this happen today? Maybe I’m just imagining that told me to do it. Regardless, I did open the boa’s cage and change his water… when his head wasn’t too close to the door.

What does “too close” mean when you’re 14? Sometimes I touched the snake, when I decided it was safe. He didn’t react.
Later I began leaving the cage door unlatched while I washed the beakers. And then I would leave it slightly open when the snake was oriented opposite the door. Why did I do this? Was I suicidal? I don’t think so. I was being 14 and immortal. And you see… nothing happened.

There are a lot of risks I haven’t taken and wouldn’t take. I’ve never skied. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle. I'm not going to hang-glide, zip-line, or jump out of an airplane. There are all different kinds of cage doors we are willing to open, and some we never will. It’s pointless to try to find a thread of logic to any of it. Other people engage in behavior that is "too risky," while our own actions make sense because desire precedes rationalization. We open whichever doors we want, and sometimes we close certain ones forever.

Quiche (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

My mom's engagement pic, 1957

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with Q for Quiche.

This post is more about my mother. Unlike me, she liked to try new things, especially foods. Supposedly, one of the reasons my father fell in love with her is because she delighted in all the cuisines available in NYC after 20 years of eating the same old boring small-town Ohio farm food. I forget when she said she moved to New York though ~ somewhere in her early 20s, I guess, when a job opportunity arose. She married my dad in 1957 when she was 26. There was no long, complicated engagement or fancy wedding; they met at work at Nationwide Insurance, dated for two months, and he proposed. My dad's philosophy on dating was very simple: find a pretty girl and ask her to lunch. He didn't understand my problems with dating sites or why my relationships had to contain so much drama. I don't understand it either.

From as far back as I can remember, my mom was jumping into the latest food fad. She made her own bread for a while (delicious) and her own ice cream (meh). Any new kitchen gadget that arrived on the scene found its way into our house. In New Jersey, she created blender desserts made with Jell-O, whipped topping, and canned fruit. Not my favorite. She grew vegetables and made zucchini "boats" ~ huge squash halves stuffed with ground beef, tomato sauce, and cheese. Those were great! Zucchini bread was tasty too. Ceviche. Paella. Granola. Next came the quiches. My dad loved those, so Mom experimented with all sorts of different quiche recipes.

Mom returned to work full-time the year after we moved to Illinois ~ she got a job as a claims adjuster in the same insurance company where my father worked as an underwriting manager. Their jobs were in Chicago though, which was a long commute from our suburb 40 miles away in Cary. Since they got home late, during the week our dinners were often casseroles or crockpot concoctions that she had put together earlier. After a while, I started cooking for us and enjoyed it. For years, I liked to cook until after I became an empty nester. It's no fun cooking for one, not to mention there's just as much prep and cleanup. 

I used to enjoy baking as well, and that lasted until a couple years ago when it seemed as though all my friends were on various diets and not eating eggs or sugar or gluten or whatever. It became too hard to cater to the individual preferences, so I gave up. It made me sad to toss all the leftovers, and I didn't want to eat them all myself either. Occasionally, when I was still dating, some man would bitch about how I didn't cook or bake for him. Why didn't he cook or bake for me? I work full-time too. Eventually, I decided I liked my new lifestyle of Not Cooking, Not Baking, and Not Dating so much that I didn't want to switch back for any reason.

The jury is still out on the Not Writing. (When I say "not writing" I mean novels, not posts or poetry.) I am enjoying this recent burst of blog writing… we’ll see how long it lasts this time!

Pets (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Peppy and me, around 1973

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with P for Pets. 

We adopted Peppy at 8 weeks when we moved to our house in Middletown, New Jersey. She was a cockapoo ~ part cocker spaniel and part poodle. Her coloring was salt and pepper… hence her name. Sadly, she was from a “puppy mill,” but at least she was relatively healthy after a few weeks of meds and care. My mom, despite being a farm girl, did not know how to train a dog nor did we get help with that, so as a result Peppy had some behavioral issues. I loved her bunches, of course.

She had such adorable habits, and one of my favorite memories is when I would come home from dining out with a soft mint in my pocket. Peppy loved those! She knew I would always bring one home for her. She slept in my room, but she preferred the cozy armchair to my bed. Peppy absolutely loved spaghetti and meatballs, so we would give her some whenever we had it, she’d dive right in, and then she needed a bath afterwards. 

Peppy was with us until we moved to Chicago, so she would have been about 8 years old. My mom decided that she should be euthanized because she was “old” and badly behaved. I was horrified! Peppy was a family member as far as I was concerned, and I didn’t care about new furniture or spotless carpeting because I was a teenager and going away to college besides. I told them that I would find a new home for Peppy since they were so heartless. That turned out to be a disaster. Peppy did not adapt to the home I had found, and she bit people, so they kept her outside. We had already moved to the city when I discovered this, and my friend went to pick her up. Peppy ended up at the pound, and it broke my heart. I still feel terrible ~ instead of passing peacefully as my mom would have done for her, she was alone and terrified at the end. The fact that I had good intentions means nothing to me.

Years later, I adopted a stray cat that had been hanging around our office building in Burbank, CA. He was a black and silver kitty, and we named him Henry, for John Henry, the racehorse; my boyfriend at the time was super into horse racing. Henry stayed with us for around a year before succumbing to liver cancer. By that time, we had adopted a second kitty, Tasha, a gold Abyssinian. When Henry passed, we adopted Cyndi, a red Aby. We were dumb and had impulsively bought them from a pet store, which isn’t much better than a puppy mill. Tasha was fine, but Cyndi was chronically sick. She never grew to adult size and stayed around five pounds, though she was cute and not too skinny. She could tolerate only (human) baby food lamb and rice, which Tasha had to eat as well. Cyndi lived about three years.

By this time I had divorced, remarried, and had a baby. I adopted Oscar, a sweet orange kitten who had been picked up at the Burbank studios. He grew to be a very hardy and muscular 18 pounds, but always gentle and sweet. Tasha was sweet too, but super hyper and crazy. She wouldn’t stop escaping, which brought in fleas no matter what we did. My daughter was horribly allergic to flea bites, so I gave Tasha and Oscar away. This also broke my heart, but my baby came first.

She grew out of her allergy, my younger daughter didn't have allergies to animals, and 10 years later Cocoa showed up, waltzed in, and decided she would live with us. It turned out that I really needed a kitty to love, so this was just perfect, and we soon adopted another stray and named her Tiki. (It’s nice for kitties to have a feline friend in the house.) They were both darling, and we all loved them a lot. My ex got custody of Tiki, and she ran away from his new place after a while. Cocoa lived another several years until her arthritis became too hard for her to bear and she quit eating. My daughter and I were with her at the end, when she passed peacefully at the vet’s office via euthanasia.

I took another kitty break after Cocoa, especially because my new boyfriend didn’t like pets (red flag!), and after we broke up in the fall of 2011, my daughter and I adopted Gatsby from the Orange County Humane Society. He was my soulmate kitty and graced me with his cuteness for 13.5 years, until his kidneys failed. I loved him so much. I have a zillion memories of all the funny things he used to do. I even have a little "shrine" set up on my bookcase for him, plus his face in a heart charm necklace. OK, I am a bit extra, yes. Even though pets break my heart when they pass, they also bring so much joy and love into my life. A home isn’t complete without a kitty or doggo, in my view.

Now I have Inky, who is a little doll, black with silver sprinkles, emerald eyes, and the sweetest disposition. I totally adore her!

October (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

At a murder mystery party, 2012

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with O for October.

October has always been one of my favorite months, but I don’t like September or November, so I usually will say summer is my favorite season. September in SoCal is hot, windy, and disgusting for at least the first half, and I am plagued with migraines. November means Thanksgiving, my least favorite holiday, and I felt that way even before the ghosting episode. October has great weather though and all the fun of Halloween. As a kid, I didn’t appreciate Halloween much, probably because I didn’t have many friends, but as an adult, I adore it. I love costumes, candy, and the whole gestalt.

The above pic was taken at an immersive, interactive murder mystery party. This was the second Halloween since my divorce was final, and I had begun to make friends and socialize out of my usual comfort zone. It was a ton of fun. Since then, I’ve made it a point to do at least a little something festive each year in October. The great thing about this holiday is that it carries no burdens of family/ cooking obligations. While I love seeing my family, I don’t enjoy feeling forced to do things a certain way because of tradition or whatever. And I don’t like to cook! I also don’t like feeling bad about my dislike of cooking, as I sometimes do on other holidays. 

Returning to the theme of misty memories… one year when I was around 6, my mom made a clown costume for me, and we went trick or treating. The costume was hot and uncomfortable, and I decided I never wanted to do it again. For many years, it was more fun to stay home, hand out candy, and admire other kids’ clever costumes. Fast forward to age 12 when I actually had a couple friends (Middletown, NJ). They insisted that we should all go trick or treating. I said we were too old, and I didn’t have a costume besides. They said I could improvise as a gypsy. So, I put on a dress with a swishy skirt, a bunch of makeup, and a pile of fake jewelry. It went OK until a man laughed at me and asked if I was supposed to be a streetwalker. Then I had to explain to my friends what that was. Very embarrassing.

October in SoCal usually brings relief from the gross migraine-inducing heat and wind, so that in itself is a reason to feel positively toward the month. This year, Halloween is on a Saturday, so hopefully something super fun will be on the agenda.

Neighbors (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Neighbor friend in Queens, NY

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with N for Neighbors.

I was born in Tarrytown, New York, and we moved to Queens soon afterward and then up to Buffalo a few years later. I have a few vague memories from Buffalo ~ more like flashes ~ though they could be wrong. My mother vacuuming and telling me about germs. Staring at earthworms with neighborhood kids after a rain. Eating Oreos at the kitchen table with a friend. Mom getting into an argument with a neighbor over Green Stamps. Mom framing a newspaper article about JFK and putting it up on the wall. Playing on the swings alone, falling off backwards, and hitting my head. 

My dad switched jobs, and we moved back to Queens. I went to kindergarten, which I barely remember, except for finger painting, which I enjoyed. The next year, we were in Tarrytown again. I don't think we had much money. My parents rented a one bedroom apartment; I used the bed, and they slept on a pull-out sofa in the living room so they could stay up later. My mom went back to work and had a mean old lady across the street babysit for me in the afternoons. In the summers, I attended a day camp, which I hated because it was full of sporty activities and kids who didn't like me because I was so unathletic. In school, the other kids mocked me for the same reason. 

We were in Tarrytown for two years, and then back to Queens we returned, where I went to third grade. This apartment building was fun, with neighbors from a bunch of different countries, and I actually enjoyed the socializing. I had a Japanese friend (a few years older) who taught me origami. An Indian neighbor taught my mom how to make chai. We were invited to a feast at the Trinidad neighbors' place where we sat on pillows on the floor. The Filipino neighbors had a party, and they played one 45 on repeat: "Sugar, Sugar." I had an alcoholic drink there, with my parents, when I was 9 years old. Times were definitely different!

The next year, my parents bought a house on Long Island with my father's parents. My grandmother hated it ~ she said she was "living in the basement." (It was one of those bi-level houses intended for two families.) I understand now that she was prone to depression, and moving away from the familiar triggered an episode. She could no longer walk to stores and had to wait for someone to drive her (she didn’t drive). She missed her friends. My grandpa got a part-time job and wasn’t around as much. I can see how this would be upsetting. The end came when she was mugged while walking with my grandpa. All those years she lived in the city and no muggings, but out in the 'burbs, bam, victim of a crime. We sold the house so she could go back to Queens. 

There were things I liked about living on Long Island, such as watching TV with Grandma in the "basement." We both loved The Brady Bunch. But I had a terrible time of it in fourth grade, made actual enemies of other kids, and was completely isolated from my peers. For a while things were OK in the friend department, and I did bead crafts with some girls on my block, but I think they were just using me because I had better beads and was willing to share. My misty memory is that one of these girls pushed me into the street when a car was coming, and I got so mad I threw a Coke bottle at her. Of all the times to have good aim, right? I think I hurt her, not sure, and after that no one in the neighborhood would talk to me. 

When my parents announced that we were moving to Middletown, New Jersey, I figured it had to be better than being the ostracized girl. Mostly it was... and I got a puppy too. The great thing about our NJ house was the big backyard with a weeping willow tree and an actual little creek. It was such a wonderful place to play, and I managed to make some neighbor friends who enjoyed make-believe and board games and crafts. We played a lot of badminton and ping pong. We even played baseball! It turned out I wasn't bad at everything athletic. I became good friends with two girls, for a couple years anyway. By seventh grade, they always wanted to hang out with the neighborhood boys, and I didn’t.

I already wrote about our move from New Jersey to Illinois, so I will link back to that if anyone is still reading along. I also wrote about our move from Chicago to California, but that wasn't part of the A2Z challenge.

We have made it past the halfway mark of the 2026 challenge. Hang in there, fellow A2Z-ers. You’re all doing great!

Migraines (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Unbaked cookies courtesy of my daughter 

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with M for Migraines.

I feel like I’ve had headaches forever, but my first true migraine hit at age 16, while I was making chocolate chip cookies at my friend Kate’s house (Cary, IL). We were nibbling raw dough, as you do, and it certainly wasn’t the first time I had done this. I started to feel nauseated and dizzy, so I went to lie down on her sofa. The pain soon hit, only on one side, like a knife through my temple. I couldn’t tolerate any light, so Kate drove me home in my car, where I stayed on the sofa in the dark until my parents got home. My dad drove Kate home, while my mom gave me an ice pack. Migraines run in both sides of our family, she told me.

I don’t think I had another one for a long time, though I still had plenty of normal headaches. The next one I recall struck on the flight to California (age 22), when I felt so sick and dizzy I could hardly walk off the plane. The sunlight was blinding. I don't know what happened after that... The migraines became more frequent after the move, and I eventually saw a doctor (my dad's), who prescribed Cafergot, the go-to med at the time. It didn't work, so the doc concluded that I didn't have migraines. 

He was a pretty crappy doctor, but my father liked him because he'd been an English major, and they talked about James Joyce. I guess he was good for the standard overweight, middle-aged guy with high BP and cholesterol, but I would have preferred someone who knew more about biology, neurology, etc. Later, I found my own doctors, but until the miracle drug sumatriptan arrived on the scene in the 1990s, no one was of much help.

By the time I tried suma, I was married with children and lived a relatively normal, active life despite being incapacitated by migraines a few times per month. At first, suma was injectable and worked instantly, but then that method became too costly, so I switched to pills. The pills are fantastic, but sometimes they take a while to work. It's fine. I'm one of the lucky ones. Some get no relief from any kind of medication, and some folks’ pain is much more debilitating than mine. I can mostly function with a migraine unless it’s severe. For a while, I also took a preventative called Topamax, which completely knocked out all migraines for a year, but then it stopped working well, plus I didn't like the side effects, so I quit.

Everyone has ideas about migraines. Do this, don't do that. My aunt got relief from pickle juice. Have you heard about the detox from preservatives? Eat more protein. Gluten causes 'em. Fake sugar is poison. Chocolate is the culprit. Cheese! Alcohol! Are you drinking enough water? Yada yada. I've heard them all. Mine do have some triggers: strong perfume and other noxious odors like the smell of tar or paint, cigarette smoke, bright flashing lights, and loud repetitive noise. Other things, such as alcohol, sleep disruptions, and stress may or may not trigger one. Weather is a factor: bright sun, cold wind, low pressure, high pressure, blah blah blah. 

Most days, I wake up with a headache that randomly turns into a migraine once a week or so; other times it just fades away after I start moving around. A hot shower and caffeine usually make me feel much better. Sometimes Excedrin Migraine works so I don't have to take a suma tablet (insurance allows only 9 every 30 days, which is I accept because taking more than that renders the drug less effective). It's rare that I get a migraine later in the day without a trigger present.

I also have chronic neck pain, which gets worse from time to time and can morph into a migraine. There are some topical medications I use to relieve a bit of that. I try to be mindful and deal with these issues as best I can and stay philosophical about it all. Keeping to daily routines and avoiding drama helps to reduce migraine frequency.

Lobster (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Random 80's pic in NY

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with L for Lobster.

We ate a lot of seafood when we lived on the East Coast. My parents liked this little restaurant right over the Connecticut border... in my mind it was called The Cape Cod, but I have no idea if that's the correct name. When I google it, I get The Cape Codder, a seafood restaurant in New Haven that burned down in 2014, but New Haven isn't that close to the border. Otherwise, it sounds right. Anyway, this was the first place where I had lobster ~ they had a small tail with butter that was perfect for a little kid. I loved it and ordered it there and elsewhere whenever it was available. I was never a huge fan of whole lobsters because they were so messy to deal with. My parents liked them though.

Over the years, lobster became really expensive, and I lost interest in ordering it at those prices. My ex and I did have it once in Hawaii, and it was delicious. Around 1996, we were celebrating an occasion with friends, and we all had lobster and champagne. I had a few glasses on an empty stomach before the meal and got super sick afterwards. Even though that was from the alcohol, I associated lobster with being sick and didn't want it ever again. 

Seafood generally was still in my good books. Shrimp, scallops, orange roughy, swordfish, and mahi mahi (it is not dolphin!) were and are some of my favorites. I go back and forth with tuna and salmon, though I try to eat both occasionally because they’re good for me. Sushi is also dependent on my whims: sometimes I crave it, and other times I am totally meh about it. Once I had a bad poke bowl (August 2016), and that turned me off from fish in any form for months.

A few years ago, I began seeing ads for lobster rolls. They looked so good! My daughter treated us to a lobster roll for my birthday lunch a while back, and they were wonderful. So, I am a fan again, just as I was at the beginning.

Kansas (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Somewhere in California, age 16

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with K for Kansas.

My parents usually planned a two-week vacation every summer, and we often took a road trip. Some years we went to Ohio to visit my mother's family, but that wasn't much fun for my father since it was very small-town and rural. I liked going there because there were animals, but Dad was a city guy, and he liked to see new things and try new restaurants. There were also the issues of politics and prejudices and stuff, which I was oblivious to at the time. Now, of course, that all might bother me too. Even so, it was my mother's family, and since we saw his way more frequently, you would think he could just deal with it and not moan about how boring and terrible it all was, right?

One year, the summer I was 16 and deeply OCD, we flew to San Diego, drove up to Los Angeles, and then took a bus to San Francisco, which was admittedly a bit scary at times on the winding coast road, and my mom had massive anxiety over it. That was an ambitious vacation, and my parents argued the whole time. In my view, they fought about the dumbest things, such as how to take a photo, where to take it, how to set the camera, etc. I don't even know why my mother got involved in these disagreements, since my dad had actually been a professional photographer and still had a darkroom set up in our house for when he had time to develop pictures himself. They fought about a million other things too, and I was busy trying to figure out how little I could eat without drawing attention to myself. Anyway, we flew back from SF three days earlier than planned because everyone was so miserable.

The next year, they decided to return to the road trip format. Again, this was very involved. First, we drove down from the suburbs of Chicago to St. Louis to see the Arch. My dad thought it was way cool, but I was unimpressed. Next, the plan was to drive across Missouri and straight through Kansas to Colorado, except my mom dozed off, and my dad quit paying attention to the signs, or something, so we forked north toward Nebraska. Mom woke up and freaked out because things were not staying on schedule! My dad managed to correct course, but we were late to check into our motel, and naturally there had to be a big yell-a-thon over it. At some point, I bought several romance novels at a gift shop to read in the backseat so I could distract myself from their sniping. It was a good plan, except for the motion sickness.

Colorado was fun; we did all the usual things and bought some turquoise jewelry. Then we had to drive northeast to go see the rock faces. Again, I read until I barfed, and my parents bickered over whatever they could find to disagree about. Anything would suffice. We saw Mount Rushmore, big whoop, and finally drove through Iowa to get back home. That was a lot!

People wonder why I don't enjoy traveling like apparently everyone else on the planet does, and we can refer back to this post whenever someone needs an explanation. Besides having to deal with random migraines and disliking changes to routine, I am still traumatized from this Summertime Fight Club. (Not that they didn't argue during the rest of the year, but at least I wasn't trapped in a car with the screaming.) There were a lot of good things about my parents, and I know that overall I had an easier childhood than many, but this? This was bad.