Saturday, November 6, 2010

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 4)

(pretty in pink! perfect gifts for girls)

Dear J.C. Penney,

Well, you've done it again! I thought your Christmas catalog's gift selection for boys just couldn't be beat. But I was wrong! The pages for girls are even better!

I could tell immediately that I had reached the girls' section of the catalog. I mean, that bright pink background just shouts, "Calling all girls!" ... either that or "Pass the Pepto-Bismol, I TOLD you that salmon didn't smell right."

But no. You know I'm kidding! Every girl loves pink. And apparently every girl has an unrelenting, nearly-pathological desire to be a princess. Or a mother. Or perhaps a coy, coquette-ish Southern belle with pearls, gloves, and a hideous hat.

We could use more girls like this in the world, let me tell you. I am SO relieved that the "Women's Lib" movement that was such a big deal during my own formative years is finally, once and for all, completely forgotten.

I mean, honestly, what self-respecting woman wants to dress like a man and cart around an ugly brown briefcase?

I myself would much rather put on my crown, fold up my Majestic Magic Mirror Dresser Suitcase With A Real, Battery-Operated Hair Dryer ($49.99) and stroll over to a friend's house to try on each other's tiaras.

Happy Holidays to you and yours, J.C. Penney! Hats off to your Christmas catalog! Or maybe I should say "tiaras off!" Ha. Ha.



Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 3)

(merry christmas, billy! hope you have a blast)

Dear J.C. Penney,

I just want to congratulate you on the outstanding selection of toys for boys this year!! Great job!! Whoever your toy buyers are, they totally deserve a raise.

Not that long ago, "gender neutral" gifts were all the rage. Remember that ridiculous trend? I mean, honestly. Anatomically correct male baby dolls with tiny camouflage-print diaper bags? Please. Any boy who would play with that, deserves whatever punishment his preschool pals decide to dish out. Not that I am condoning violence. Though, come to think of it, you probably wouldn't complain if I DID condone it. After all, the following images are straight from your catalog:

Wow. My muscles became more toned, my voice dropped a register, and hair began sprouting from my ears, just from looking at those pictures.

I just have one question. Can that Camo Marshmallow Shooter possibly be retrofitted to shoot something else? Gerbils, perhaps? Or tiny hand-made arrows? In next year's catalog, you might want to leave out the word "marshmallow." I really don't think today's parents want their boys playing with marshmallows.

Drop that word, and you'll have a whopper of a line-up for tomorrow's budding bank robbers, paramilitary stealth fighters and homegrown terrorists.

Fun for all!



Saturday, October 30, 2010

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 2)

(ho ho ho. yes, i'm talking about you suzy)

Dear J.C. Penney,

I finally got a few minutes to peruse the toy section of your Christmas catalog. I must say, I was a little disturbed by this full-page image:

Oh sure, the picture is cute. The description is equally adorable:

Her own itty-bitty baby to love and care for. Birth certificate is included. $19.99.

Ok. But here's the deal. Even if Suzy is delighted with her own itty-bitty baby, Suzy's mother is apt to be less enthusiastic. I mean, who wants to be a grandmother at the age of 28? Apparently Suzy was not listening during those mother-daughter talks about abstinence and purity and not getting caught in the same awful, hopeless trap for the next 20 years of your life with a worthless no-good man who can't even find the time to get off his butt and apply for a job but boy, he's got plenty of time for hanging around Dave and Buster's drinking beer with his good-for-nothing friends.

I would recommend a disclaimer at the bottom of this page. Maybe something like:
WARNING: LIFESTYLE HAZARD. Not recommended for children with low self-esteem.

Just a suggestion.

Thanks for listening! By the way, I love your polyester pants. Nobody does elastic waistbands quite as good as J.C. Penney, I always say.



Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 1)

(happy holidays! or not)

Dear J.C. Penney:

I just received your Christmas catalog in the mail. I knew right away that it was a Christmas catalog because it's red and shiny and it says WOW! YIPPEE! and FREE SHIPPING on the front. For me, those are the real sentiments behind the holidays. Yes, sirree. In fact, I bet that is exactly what the three Wise Men said when they reached the Baby Jesus.

WOW! YIPPEE! FREE SHIPPING directly from heaven!

What a heart-warming thought.

I do have a few questions about the catalog, though.

First, I was looking for a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt for my husband, and I noticed this picture of a headless, half-armed man:

I do think it's admirable that you use real-life, developmentally challenged people like this in your catalogs. Really I do. But this might be carrying it a little too far. Perhaps you could Photoshop someone else's head and upper arms onto him next time.

Just a suggestion.

I can't wait to see what's in the toy section of the catalog!



Sunday, October 24, 2010


(and so it begins ...)

Someone famous once said, "There's a book in each of us." At least, I think it was someone famous. If I had time, I would look it up. But I have a book to write. You'll have to look it up yourself. Sorry.

Regardless of who said it, or whether it was ever said at all, I think there is indeed a book in each of us. The question is, what is my book? Can I uncover the essence of my story? Can I find the words to tell it?

These are deep, important questions, which bring to mind other deep, important questions such as, Why are there so many keys on my key chain? I was pondering this question just this morning, when I realized that out of the mass of keys I carry around every day, I only recognize 2 of them. There's my car key, the big black one with the red panic button designed to go off automatically if you put the keys in your pocket and then sit down at a fancy, exclusive restaurant with your car parked directly out front so all the fancy, exclusive people are guaranteed to be noticeably perturbed when your lights start flashing and your car emits extremely loud beeping noises until you finally realize, duh, that is my car making all that ruckus and you dig out your keys and shut the stupid thing off.

Then of course, there's my house key. It's the silver one that must at all times be kept right next to the car key so I don't confuse it with the six other practically identical silver ones that have somehow appeared on my key chain even though I have no idea what they are for.

It's a mystery. What doors can these keys open? What vehicles might they start? Who put them on my key chain? What story might they tell?

Which brings me back to my original question. What story might I tell? Can I find enough stories to fill an entire book? If this foreword is any indication, I think I will manage just fine.

Time will tell.


Thursday, October 21, 2010

Letters from my agent (5)

(it's a good thing i don't discourage easily)

Dear Lesley,

I regret to inform you that Rosetta is no longer employed by Trite & Drivel Publishing Company. She left no forwarding address, she has no cell phone, and her position has not been filled by anyone. In fact, we are no longer accepting submissions of any kind.

Rest assured, we will keep your previous submissions on file. Who knows? Maybe one day there will be a market for a 4-page novel about a scrawny child growing up in Connecticut.

But don't count on it. That was not intended to be encouragement.


Matilda Crumpetbottom

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Letters from my agent (4)


Dear Lesley,

There seems to be a little misunderstanding. I was not referring to you specifically when I said "Success might be just around the corner." That was simply part of my automated signature. Believe me, it had nothing to do with your recent submissions.

Of course, if you dedicate yourself to your writing, success might theoretically be possible at some point. Anything can happen.

In the meantime, please stop lurking in my bushes. Even though you did get rid of the black fedora, I am 99% certain that's you.

Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Letters from my agent (3)

(oh shoot.)

Dear Lesley,

My, you are persistent, aren't you?

Once again, I must be honest with you. Calling your book "The # 1 New York Times Best Seller" will not guarantee success. My advice is to buckle down and write, write, write. That's what writers do. my dear! Once you have a plot outline, perhaps an appropriate title will spring to mind.

By the way, do you sometimes wear a black fedora?

Keep writing! Success might be just around the corner.

Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Letters from my agent (2)


Dear Lesley,

Thank you for sending the alternate titles for your book. However, these titles are all current best-sellers. You will need a title that has not been used before. Perhaps you should concentrate on developing a plot.

Keep writing! Success might be just around the corner.

Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Friday, October 8, 2010

Letters from my agent

(oh darn.)

Dear Lesley:

Thank you for your recent query letter. I agree that it is important to have a catchy title for your novel. However, I must tell you I really don't care for "The World Is About To End You Are Doomed If You Don't Read This Book Immediately." Just being honest! That's my job. Try something a little shorter.

Also, you forgot to mention what the plot would be about.

Keep writing! Success might be just around the corner.

Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Thursday, October 7, 2010

In conclusion ...

(my book is well underway ...
now all i need is some stuff to go in the middle)

As the sun began to set behind the Tuscan hills, I put my head on Ramone's strong shoulder and smiled. "Bellissimo," he whispered. "You see that castle in the distance? It's yours. All yours. Happy birthday my darling."

As Oprah shook my hand and leaned in for a hug, I patted her on the back gently. "Don't worry," I said. "The show is in good hands. I'm sure your fans will never forget you." Then I walked to the wardrobe department to choose an outfit for my first episode. The adventure is just beginning!

As the Pulitzer Prize committee smiled and the cheering crowd whipped themselves into a deafening frenzy, I took a final bow and walked off the stage. "Who could have imagined?" I thought to myself. "And it all started with a simple blog."

The end.


Tuesday, October 5, 2010


(first things first)

This book is dedicated to my agent, (AGENT'S NAME). Thank you for finally responding to my daily query letters and lifting the restraining order. I hope I have made you proud.

This book is dedicated to Oprah Winfrey, who miraculously picked my book from thousands and thousands of possibilities as the very last Oprah Book Club Selection. You can imagine my amazement when I got the call! I will never forget you, Oprah. Can I have a car, too? No, just kidding. Ha Ha. Say hi to Sophie for me.

This book is dedicated to God, who I am hoping will forgive me for Chapters 4 and 5.

This book is dedicated to my husband, whose wise advice has gone unheeded for more than 30 years. Also my sisters, who hopefully will not be angry that I turned myself into the hero of all our childhood stories. And of course my children, who deeply disappointed me by turning into grownups but subsequently redeemed themselves by becoming my best friends in the entire world.

This book is dedicated to (POET) who once said (SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS AND INSPIRATIONAL). Need I say more?


Sunday, October 3, 2010

I'm writing book. But don't hold your breth.

(my book so far)

Hello, fellow bloggers who have not yet bothered figuring out how to unfollow my virtually inactive blog! Glad you're still round. I mean Around. I'll explain tht in a sec.

First, my exciting announcement: I finally have an idea for the book I have always thought I should write because let's face it, by the time you get to be my age you just really start to think that you should write a book, especially if every one of your three sisters has beat you to it and written actual published books that are undoubtedly better than anything you could possibly come up with.

So here I go!

But don't hold your breth. I mean breAth.

The main obstacle at the moment is my little yellow Dell, which constantly finds new ways to drive me crazy. This week, the letter "a" is sticking so whenever I need to use it, I have to bash it down with my little pinky finger, interrupting the natural flow of thoughts and totally annoying my pinky finger.

Still. I have an outline written, and even a title. And some of it can just be former blog posts, plopped into the chapters that are conveniently titled "Here's Wht I Think About Such nd Such."

But unfortunately the idea of recycling my blog posts caused me to think, "I should go reread those old posts to see if they're really funny" which caused me after an hour or so of admiring my own funnyness to visit Fran's blog because it's been, like, forever since I've read about her adventures which are way funnier than mine, which of course caused some serious blog hopping (hi Amanda! hi Retired One! I so admire the fact that you guys have been blogging so consistently).

Which of course means I have no time to write my first chapter today.

But soon. I'll strt soon.


Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Can you hear me now?

(i'm SO tired of people telling me i should have bought a mac.
especially because, quite clearly, i should have.)

"Thank you for calling Dell customer service. Your call is important to us, in spite of the fact that we are going to make you listen to MusicThatIsGuaranteedToCureInsomnia for the next 20 minutes. Please hold."

... 20 minutes later ...

Sahib Boyyouarestupidforbuyingadell: (with a strong Indian accent, not to be culturally insensitive, but if you have ever called customer service you know exactly what i mean) Hello? My name is Joe. How can I help you?

Me: Joe? Your name is Joe?

Sahib: You want help with your computer? Or you want more music?

Me: Fine. Joe it is.

Sahib: What seems to be the problem?

Me: Well Joe, my little yellow Dell laptop will not start. Again. It's only two years old, and it has now crashed three times.

Sahib: Do you have your data backed up?

Me: You're going to make me wipe my hard drive clean again, aren't you?!

Sahib: You really should use an external hard drive.

Me: I don't want an external hard drive, I want MY hard drive!

Sahib: I can't help you there. You know, they sell little memory sticks -

Me: I want my pictures! I want my files! I want my laptop to work! Is that too much to ask?

Sahib: Yes ma'am. Way too much. You should have bought a Mac.

Me: grrrrr ......


Saturday, July 10, 2010

Once upon a time, there were two little princesses ...

(my little princesses)

Have I mentioned lately that I love being a Grandma? I sometimes forget, since today's Grandma bears absolutely no resemblance to the gray haired rocking chair inhabitant the word probably brings to mind.

In fact, today's Grandma probably:

~ Works at a real honest to goodness job, since Grandpa has been laid off and Medicare is years away.

~ Dresses like a relatively normal person, with no crocheted shawls in sight.

~ Would not have any idea how to crochet a shawl, even if she was inclined to wear one, which at this point in time she most definitely is not.

And yet, in spite of her undeniable hipness, today's Grandma holds to some eternal truths:

~ Grandchildren can do no wrong.

~ If they start to act up and glare at Mommy and Daddy like a world-weary 16 year old, they must be tired poor little darlings and they clearly need just one more cookie.

~ And if you somehow forget just how perfect and adorable they are, you simply need to replay the message you have saved on your cell phone which says: "Hewwo? Gamma? I wuv you. I'm wearing my pwincess dwess. Wet me put you on speaker so you can see me."

I wuv my grandbabies. Can you tell?


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Where have you been???

(this is WAY more impressive than my office building,
which looks like a strip mall in need of some serious prozac)

I am totally an accomplished career woman now. In fact, I barely have time to talk to you before I slip into my stiletto Jimmy Choo heels and clack off to a high-rise office building for an important meeting.

But let's take just a minute to catch up. Here's a sure sign of just how accomplished I am:

This morning, I got up at 5:45 as usual. By 6:45 I had my hair done, makeup on, and a load of towels humming in the washing machine. I even added the fabric softener at just the right time, which I could do blindfolded in my sleep if I ever got any sleep which unfortunately I do not at this particular junction in my long and winding life.

I left for work, did my Tasmanian Devil imitation for 9 hours straight, then drove home.

Upon arriving home, I thought I would put load # 2 into the washing machine ... but lo and behold, load # 1 was still there, with the lid wide open, soaking in the fabric softener for 9 hours straight.

In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, I am truly enjoying life as a working woman.

1. I always did think sleep was a waste of time.
2. I love challenges, even though I complain about them endlessly.
3. I also enjoy complaining endlessly,which probably explains a lot.

And 4. I truly love soft towels.

So life is good.


Wednesday, April 7, 2010

10 ways you can tell I am a successful working woman

(you and me, Mary - two of a kind)

I've been working full time for six weeks now. Six whole weeks. Eight hours a day. In an office.

Are you impressed?

Believe me, after 10 years of working at home, six weeks of full-time work is an amazing feat. But I've got it down now. No biggie. I'm a pro.

Here's how you can tell:

1. I wake up every morning at 5:45, even without my alarm clock.

2. I can pack a lunch, put on makeup, and drive to the office all at the same time.

3. I have a briefcase.

4. Ok, a laptop bag. But it's leather.

5. Even though I never bring it to work.

6. I frequently throw my hat in the air while singing "I'm gonna make it after allllllll."

7. Of course, if you understand that, you are old like me. Which makes it even more amazing that I am working full-time, when I really should be sitting on my front porch rocking my grandbabies.

8. I sometimes wake up at night thinking about projects and deadlines.

9. I also wake up at night for absolutely no good reason.

10. I often end up quite tired at 5:45 in the morning, which became quite clear to me the other morning when I finished my shower (fortunately I was not driving at the time) and realized that I heard water running, which could have been a really bad sign of something like a leak, but turned out to be only the sink which I left running after brushing my teeth and which in about thirty seconds would have been running over onto the floor.

No worries.

I turned off the sink faucet, got dressed, went to work, brought home the bacon, and fried it up in a pan.

I am woman. Hear me snore.


Sunday, April 4, 2010

Happy Easter, Dale Girls

(easter highlights from the dusty archives of my mind)

1957: Baby Monica is one month old. Parents stubbornly refuse to exchange her for a kitten. Karen and I hold out hope.

1960: Baby Melissa is two months old. No kitten in sight. Easter Sunday means pricking eggs and blowing the goo out, which is great fun, though I can't remember what comes next or why we would do that instead of hard boiling them. Oh well.

1963: I decide that I am an atheist because let's face it, those stories about rainbows and whales and giants getting killed by slingshots are pretty lame. Unfortunately, Dad is the organist and choir director so for the most part I smile and nod my way through Sunday School. Fortunately, nobody asks my opinion. Plus our teacher brings donuts on Easter. So I'm not about to rock the boat.

1964: The "Big Girls" (Karen and me) are now in the children's choir at church. Suddenly, in spite of my theological ambiguity I have a nearly fanatical appreciation for starchy taffeta dresses, frilly hats and shiny patent leather shoes with matching purses.

1968: Dad gives up the choir directing job, and he and mom somehow manage to find an even LAMER church to attend. The new church has a sunrise service on Easter, which is a particularly brilliant idea when you live in Connecticut where the average temperature at the crack of dawn in early spring is, like, 25 degrees. We all stand and shiver and wonder if there will be donuts.

1969: The new church hires a good-looking youth pastor, who leads Sunday evening discussion groups which I find totally fascinating, especially the way his hair waves across his forehead without ever falling into his big brown eyes. Maybe there's something to be said for those Bible stories after all.

Happy Easter, everybody.

Hope you get donuts.


Tuesday, March 30, 2010

You don't say

(it's my turn to talk - but feel free to chime in)

I love getting comments from people on my blogs. It's fun to hear what people think, and to develop new bloggy friendships by commenting back and forth.

I'm having a little trouble relating to a recent commenter on my political blog, however. I'm not sure how to pronounce his or her name, to begin with. I'm a little confused by the comment as well.

Here it is:
念強 said...


My first question, without trying to be totally rude, is - what language is this? I'm thinking Japanese.

My second question is, holy cow, how long does is take Japanese children to learn this alphabet? No wonder they have to go to school 6 days a week. It would take me several days just to copy out this message, which probably translates into "You are full of baloney."

And my third question is, why does it include "85cc" at the beginning and "104" near the end? This is truly mystifying.

Perhaps it translates into "85cc of baloney would make more sense than your blog which I will not read ever again in 104 years."

Or perhaps "85cc of sake still did not prepare me for the 104 brilliant points you made in this blog post."

Or perhaps I should enter this into a Japanese-to-English translation website and see what pops up!

Here we go:

Adult shadow one king on watching father woman love father woman 做 love father woman 做 love sentence 學 one exemption expense line on this electric shadow light adult edition light lust one light ninja a shadow one light ninja color one light ninja 做 love one light ninja shadow one complete works light 漫 畫 light shadow one line of eros electric shadow eros assistant assistant 聊 sun on 85cc eros crimson pop eros mainland beauty eros exemption expense line 國 actress ratio basic nun 圖 one ratio basic nun 奶 ratio basic nun swimming 裝 beauty 圖 one Japan 圖 貼 Japan 寫 on watching Japanese line on true shadow one Japanese shadow one net Japanese shadow one lineNothing on watching Japanese line on 收 watching Japanese line 碼 under 觀 watching small playing 戲 on the Japanese line 載 區 apparent 訊 beauty mansion friend 104 fast distribution net feeling color sentence 學

Alrighty then. That explains it. Any comments?


Sunday, March 28, 2010

A very good day

(dat's julia? she came to see me?)

Mommy and Daddy kept telling me about this Julia person. She was living in mommy's tummy. This meant I was gonna be a big sister. Whatever that is.

We waited for Julia for a long long long time. Whoever she is, she's very slow.

Finally they said she was here! Come on! Let's skip down the hallway! We should yell so she knows we are coming!

Aww, she's pretty cute. Everybody likes her.

She even bought me a present! And mommy's hospital room had this super cool chair for me to play in.

Julia likes to sleep a lot ...

but as soon as everybody turns their backs, I have big plans for her.


Sunday, February 28, 2010

Nine to Five

(subtitle: how to start a new job, suddenly become totally incompetent, and buy nothing new)

Whew. My first week at the new job is over. It will get easier from here, right? Not that it was a bad week. It just had a lot of hours in it.

Here's what I learned this week:

1. If you go to the front door, which is locked, and stand there looking like a dope for 10 minutes, the security guard will eventually come open the door for you.

2. The normal people all use the back door.

3. Even if you only live 10 minutes from your office, you do not have enough time to drive home, enjoy a leisurely lunch, put your feet up, get a little fresh air, recharge your mind, and return to work.

4. You may if you are quick like a bunny have time to drive home, frantically throw together a grilled cheese sandwich, eat it standing up, and return to work.

5. The normal people all eat at their desks.

6. If you have been doing a job for ten years, do not assume that you know how to do that job. There are helpful tools nowadays such as "project management software" that add a whole new dimension to your day, causing you to receive emails every 15 seconds which require your urgent immediate attention and prompting three or four hundred visits to your project manager's office to ask intelligent questions such as "So, is a job folder, like, an online folder, or is it actually a folder folder?"

And last but not least -

7. It is possible to go from slouchy, unkempt freelancer to stylish, snappy office worker without buying anything new. But only if you have a stylish, snappy sister who wears the same size and who is a fabulous eBay shopper and who is willing to pack up a box of cute outfits and ship them to you. Thanks Monica!!!!!

Only 477 weeks till I can retire ... but who's counting?


Friday, February 19, 2010

I've really done it now

(seriously? you want me to wear these? every day?)

Well, I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.

After all, my hobby is sending out resumes. I think it's fun to write cover letters. And my bookmarks include,,, and

So it only makes sense that one day I would find my way to the jobs section of craigslist. Lo and behold, there was a job listing for a writer in Plano Texas. Hey! I'm a writer! And hey! I live 5 minutes from Plano!

The job was at a financial marketing company. Hey! I write financial marketing projects!

I figured "financial marketing" was probably a pseudonym for "shady debt collection" or "fly by night payday lending" ... but what the heck. I sent off a resume.

A few hours later I got a reply.

Two days later I had an interview, at a definitely non-shady, non-fly-by-night marketing company.

A week later I had a job.

A job. Wow. Nine to five. An office of my own. Health insurance.

I start on Tuesday. Gulp.

I will probably be blogging less frequently, but I'll still be around. I definitely need to know what Fran has been eating on the bus, who Amanda has run into at the park, what Joan found in her local police reports, what Rae has found to rant about, and how Cyndi is making the world a better place.

I'm thinking I may need more than an hour for lunch. I hope that won't be a problem.

I'll keep you posted.


Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: The End

Finalissimo! We have reached the last stop on our fabulous 10-day CTCS tour of Italy!

Here we are in the amazing city of Venice, where you can drown while crossing the street, unlike the rest of Italy where you are much more likely to simply be run over by a motorbike.

Fortunately, by the time we got to Venice we had completed our singing schedule so the nice Venetian people did not have to endure one more rendition of Glory Hallelujah Sing My Praises As Loud As You Possibly Can.

I loved Italy, but I was ready to go home.

I was a little tired of thick black coffee that tasted like motor oil.

I was a little tired of being told "This way! Andiamo! Hurry, lazy Americans! Only six museums and ten cathedrals today! Look up! The art work is all on the ceiling! Hurry! Hurry!"

I was even a little tired of my charming roommate Lillian, who by this point had told me her amazing life story involving a wealthy husband who fell one day while shoveling snow in the driveway and suffered permanent brain damage requiring her to be a caretaker at a very young age until he mercifully died and left her the mansion and all his earthly possessions.

I wasn't sure if any of this was true, but it definitely made a great story.

We had a great time, Lillian and me. Especially when the choir wasn't singing.

... and now, I will leave you with a few more pictures and a little reminder:

When in Rome, do as the Romans do ...

Drink wine

Eat pasta

Look fabulous at all times

And break into song whenever you feel the urge, unless you are part of the CTCS in which case you really should just look up and enjoy the scenery.



Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 9

By now you are surely getting weary of my travels. I know I was. But we are almost finished with our off-key tour of the lovely Italian countryside.

Just a few more stops.

We went to Pompeii ...

To Pisa ...

To Florence, where I bought a lovely gold necklace ...

To Assisi, where they loved our rendition of Seventy-Six Trombones (by this time I was pretty adept at the organ, though it was awfully hard to oom-pah with all that reverb going on) ...

... and then we arrived in Venice, our final stop ...


Monday, February 15, 2010

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 8

By the time we arrived in Capri, I was ready for some R & R. I was quite exhausted from arguing with the Vatican organist, and I was tired of running around corners and hiding in little shops whenever the choir would burst into song.

Which was quite often.

Capri was lovely. Warm and flower-ful.

Here are some pictures :

Isn't that gorgeous? I really want to go back.

... then we traveled north again ...



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