A note to my many, many fans. I haven’t posted in so long that I even forgot how to use this site, but I’m here after about twenty minutes fishing around for it. I’ve got to take one of their classes. Please enjoy, and they won’t all be about Maddy. I often pick up my granddaughter, Maddy, at her school, El Camino Real Charter High School in Woodland Hills.   I go quite early so that I can have a good spot next to the curb on the road alongside the south side of the school.  I have to strategically park the … Continue reading Once again – Maddy

We never did go out much for dinner even before the pandemic, but we set a new record for staying home during and after the pandemic.  I guess there is not a time we can call “after the pandemic.”  I think it’s here for eternity. But the other night, suddenly, I had the urge to go out for Mexican food.  I was afraid Larry and I would turn to stone while binge-watching some of the worst crap imaginable. I remembered a great Mexican restaurant near the chiropractor’s office.  If my appointment was around lunchtime, I’d stop to pick  up some tacos and bring them home … Continue reading The Outing

ON MY last post (Ninety-seven Cents)I mentioned my mother’s fear that someone would ‘jump the fence, break down the door and hit her and dad over the head with a bat.” She actually related that story to my daughter, who lived with her at the time, after she got home late one night and they had left the gate unlocked for her. Actually, I think Janet is the one who jumped the fence to get in because Mom and Dad locked up their house like Fort Knox. Mom tended to overthink and exaggerate. Hi Mom. Continue reading ERROR

ATMs were new in the 1980s, but we felt we were pretty savvy in how to use them after a few scares — like the panic you felt when it first grabbed your card, or the fear that you would forget your password, or the worry about that guy that was lurking behind you in line. That last one didn’t seem the threat that it does these days. Or was it because I was younger and hadn’t yet developed the fears that an old person like me has. To think I thought my mother was crazy to worry about that … Continue reading Ninety-seven Cents

I wrote this several weeks ago, but I couldn’t decide whether to post it or not, but this morning, again, as I walked through the living room I heard the news report that there was a shooting in Brooklyn, but guess what was next: An updated picture of Rihanna — still pregnant — in a multi-colored bodysuit and a full report on how she was doing. I decided to give her the same title as I had in my Word document. If they want to give her so much news time, then I’ll follow suit with my blog. Following is … Continue reading Rihanna

There can be no other title for this story, because they are the perpetrators.  I could use some expletives.  You can guess what they are, but I decided to keep it clean. I was afraid to write this until I was SURE my Sears Home Warranty Contract was actually canceled.  I don’t trust this formerly most trust-worthy company any more.  I’ve been watching my checking account, and at last I don’t see that monthly automatic charge, which they insisted on when they repaired my refrigerator, so I think I’m safe. If you are a certain age, you remember Sears in the old days – … Continue reading S E A R S

Yes, that’s what we call ourselves.  We number twelve and range in age from late sixties to late seventies, and many of us have been playing together, once a month, on a Monday night for twenty-five years.  I’m a late-comer to the group.  When I returned to California after almost twenty years in Arizona, I first subbed and then joined them in the late nineties. – invited by my (almost) lifetime friend, Jo. The core group had been part of a mother/daughter group for seven years in National Charity League that met on Monday nights.  After an NCL traditional Presentation in l996 (complete … Continue reading Bunco Babes

After almost three months of traveling through Europe, my last stop was the small town of Bejar in the province of Salamanca, Spain  – about 300 miles northwest of Madrid.  I couldn’t wait to see Bejar and meet that part of our family that never emigrated – primarily my Grandmother Estefania’s brother, Andres Martin, his family and some of my Grandfather Isaac Izquierdo’s (Grandma’s husband) family, too. After two weeks of staying with Andres, his wife, Luisa, and their daughter Luisi, it was time to go home to California.  I was, by this time counting the days.  My Spanish was limited; their English, … Continue reading Spain, TWA, and Anniballi

My birthday was March 30. I became seventy-eight years old. I could be depressed.  After all, I found a couple of new spots and/or bumps, and I think I got a couple of new pains.  Or, it could be that same pain that randomly moves around my body, settling in new spots, as if it’s trying out a new home. “Oh, let’s try her knee today, even though she replaced it.  Ha-ha.  Fooled her.” They never get bored with my back.  They set up camp until I get an epidural, and then they go on hiatus for about three months. This year, as in many … Continue reading Happy Birthday to Me