One of my favorite scenes! And the backdrops! These high school students displayed superb artistic talent!
After attending the theater [said with a bit of Broadway flare] this past weekend as Locust Valley Jesters performed the musical Beauty and the Beast, I’m still going to sleep with the songs in my head. It was that good!
Beauty is my all time favorite. I mean, come on, as a reader/writer, my connection to a character who walks on stage with a book in her hands is instantaneous. And when the Beast takes Belle into his library, it’s like the equivalent of putting Nemo back in the ocean. She’s home, away from home. Continue reading
Copyright: Google Images
Hi All You Lovely Readers out there!
Looking back on this first full year of Blogging and writing, I am amazed at how much we’ve been through. Together. As I continue to throw my life up on-screen, you surprise me, time and time again, by returning to read about my journey, share in my joys and heartaches, and write back to let me know I’m not alone.
This past year, you joined me on many waterfall adventures, both local and across the country. Continue reading
Hurricane Sandy destroyed our grill. But, this was the worst of the damage for us.
On route back from Chicago, Hubs gets a call. From a coworker who happens to be a psychologist. He’s giving a lecture tomorrow on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) after natural disasters and major crises, and he wants to discuss this topics with the Family Medicine residents. Physicians and other men and women like police officers and firefighters can be perceived as invincible during a crisis. Rick Vickers helped hospital staff walk through the aftermath of 9/11 and the 1990 Avianca plane crash in Oyster Bay. He’s keenly aware that when doctors get flooded with patients hungry to share stories of their losses and heartaches, someone needs to turn the tables and say, “What’s up doc?” to help the physicians process their personal experiences as well. After all, they’re only human. In turn, the residents will hopefully be able to use the same line of questioning and counselling with their patients in the coming days and months post Sandy and all her side effects.
“Would you want to share some reflections on what life was like during and after Hurricane Andrew?” Rick asks Hubs.
“Of course.” Hubs remembers certain key details of the ’92 disaster like it was yesterday. Some is fuzzy. [A normal part of PTSD involves blurred memories.] He and his family lost nearly everything. It’s a miracle that they’re alive. Really.
I think God saved him for me. Continue reading
Wake up this morning with every intention to run. Then I hear the patter of rain outside my bedroom window. I do not want to run in the rain.
Truth is, I do not like to run. I don’t hate it like I used to. But I am so not there. That runner’s high people talk about? I’m thinking the closest I’ve ever come is one time when I got distracted by the music on my iPod during a jog and ran into a parked car and went flying HIGH into the air, but miraculously landed on my feet and kept running.
Okay, so the story above is slightly skewed, but there was a time when my husband biked into a street barrier, flew off his bike, and landed on his feet and actually continued down the street running. I swear! True story. Ask his friends in Miami. He was the campus SuperHero…for like a day.
So anyway, this morning, I am thinking of all the reasons I cannot possibly run in the rain. What if I fall? What if some speeding car whizzes by my and bumps me off the road in a wake-making blur? What if my pinky toenails fall off? Continue reading
Exactly a year ago, I approached all of you with my hands clasped and my words a begging: “Please JOIN MY BLOG!” Remember that?
And so many of you *155 exactly, took a chance on me and my crazy dream to be a writer and signed in. And I am so grateful for each and every one of you. And for all of you who don’t do the whole ‘joining blogs’ thing, but continue to pop in and search for waterfalls with me. Words cannot express how much I cherish each and every one of you. ♡♡♡
So here we are again. At a new crossroads in my journey. I have officially moved to the other side of the Cyber world when I transferred my blog from Blogger to WordPress. Fortunately, all my content and comments on stories came with me, no problem. Unfortunately, the transition dropped my most precious gift: Your Email Addresses.
Sooooo… I know you know where there is going. Continue reading
|Photo Credit: Phombo
I grew up in Canada. Windsor, Ontario to be exact. And when I moved to Michigan, senior year in high school and continued my education over in Evanston, IL, not to far from where I met my future hubby in Chicago, I never knew that my Canadian roots would play a part in my love story or my career path as a writer.
Found out today that my little story on how hubby and I began our love story in the mist of Niagara Falls is published online at MaClean’s Magazine. Who-hoo! The link is below. Enjoy! And “Ohhh Canada! My Home and Native land…” Thanks for remembering me!
How about you? Have you ever visited Niagara Falls? Where do you call home away from home?
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I left you yesterday with a mouthful of pizza and two tix to Memphis in my purse. Sorry Spidey. Next time. Fo sho. Maybe.
So after our luncheon at Battery Gardens Restaurant, we walk off our meal with our two block stroll to the subway to catch the red line #1 train uptown to Time Square. But when we arrive at 42nd, we begin our second brisk walk over to the west side to find Pier 84.
Oh, almost forgot to mention the two very different solicitors on the train. One guy had a cardboard sign that read “Donate $1 for weed. Hey. Just keepin it real.” Okay.
The other guy came onto our train after the first stop, carrying a backpack and a guitar and sang that famous Spanish song. You know the one. “Aay yay yay yay” makes up most of the words. And he had a really nice voice. I looked at hubby and smiled. “Did you plan this?” Giggle giggle. Eyelashes batting. Hubby dropped some change in the performer’s bag. “Now that deserves a dollar.”
Picking up from where we left off, Year Eight came along, and we ventured over to north Atlanta so we could leave the girls with my sister and her hubby for a few days. Then we drove north two hours till we hit the Blue Ridge Mountains to a cabin in the woods. On this trip, we decided to give white water rafting a whirl for the first time. Except that by the time we descended onto the Ocoee River in North Carolina, we were each paddling our own kayaks. Not the group ride I had anticipated but an amazing adventure I will never forget. At one point we got separated and to this day, I am so relieved I thought out loud and asked the guide if there was any way I could get lost. And he replied, “Nope. The river only goes in one direction, so even when it splits, it will reunite again.”
After our chance encounter with the not so firey Katniss wannabe in the parking lot of Hooker Falls [hey, I don’t name them, I just come in search of waterfalls. :)]…we had a two hour window to hike to three falls and then begin our drive back to New York.
Hubby hands us each a hiking stick, a water bottle, and I throw a bag of trail mix and pretzels into my backpack. And we’re off, following a well marked trail to our third (50th, if you count all the rapids we kayaked over yesterday, but we’ll say 3rd that is officially named) waterfall of our Spring Break outdoorsy adventure.
I never used to like hiking. Walking I never minded. Hiking, however, involves ups and downs, unsteady terrain, potential sprained ankles and falls, and chances of getting lost. Then one day I hiked with a stick, and it revolutionized my thinking. On the steepest of hikes, I’ve even used two hiking sticks, and I’m sure this is why animals stay on all fours. The steadying factor makes all the difference in the world. And you get less tired when you have that third or fourth leg. Giving you time to focus on the beauty all around you since you’re less nervous about tripping and sliding down gravel pathways.
So, we are off, hiking toward the sound of rushing water that grows louder with each step. The girls race ahead with their dad while I bring up the rear with Sarah-Beara. Trekking up hill as the terrain increases in steepness only means one thing. We are almost there. The hill plateaus and now I can see the top of the falls through the trees. And my heart quickens. Like the day I first met my hubs.
I realize even before we see the falls from the most open viewpoint that I love nothing like I love waterfalls. And all my senses are awake. I hear the stirring water as I approach. I now see the powerful roar of water pouring over the arch into the pool. I close my eyes to feel the spray of mist on my face as I draw nearer still. I stick my tongue out to taste the cool droplets that pop up with each splash. And I touch the frigid water with my finger tips as the water races over my skin with the desire to pull me in. This is my heaven on earth. I am in that place. That place of wow.
|Hooker Falls. Looked it up and down and could not determine the origin of the name… Continue reading
A woman sporting a bow and arrow emerges from behind the bushes. The videographer steps backward, holding his camera steady as he moves away.
“Katniss?!?” I scream without thinking.
“Cut.” Videographer looks over at me, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head.
“Sorry. I got a little excited when I saw the bow and arrow.” My bad?
That was not my line. The truth is, they never gave me any lines. Or any parts either. I wasn’t even an extra. And the girl… Looked nothing like Katniss Everdeen.