My Birthday Ode To My Mom On My Birthday

She was a young and vibrantly beautiful woman, two years short of her 40th birthday, and ready to pop with her fifth child. Almost as beautiful on the inside as out, she possessed an incredible strength that she still holds today, and she knew that she had to be prepared. It was early December, but the spirit of Christmas was already heavy in the hustle and bustle of the air. She had to be finished with her Christmas shopping because she would never disappoint her 4 other children. The toys were bought, wrapped and safely hidden from sight as she knew the time for baby could be at any moment. She even drove an hour away, enormous belly and all, to secure the coveted ski boots for her oldest. There was no Cyber Monday in those days-it was late in the 60's. Those who knew her best were not surprised. She was extremely capable and the birth of a child, for her, was no deterrent.

Soon she felt the child was ready and off she went to the hospital. It was 8 or 9 am when the baby girl arrived! She didn't remember much because of the anesthesia, but she remembered being ecstatic God had given her another girl. Two girls, she had first, then two sons, and this baby girl was a joy to behold! Back then, the gender of the child you carried was a mystery to be revealed only at the joyous moment. She went in with a few ideas of names. "What would we name her," she thought. And she remembered the lovely nurse who took such good care of her while in the hospital. The nurse was named Candace and she quickly decided it was a most beautiful choice. Baby Candace, was to her, the most wonderful Christmas gift of all. Her husband was born on the following day many years before, and they joked that the baby wanted to make her own entrance into the world. Candace would not wait, they laughed, she had to make it all her own. Oh, how they knew me even back then. 

Some forty something years later and she is still a beautiful and strong woman and still very much prepared for her children's Christmas. 16 grandchildren later, 2 of them from Candace, she still toils with the Christmas shopping for each and every one. The joy of child birth long past her, she has reveled in the wonder of the many births that her children experienced as if they were her own. She still possesses the ability to be the mother she has always been; Loving, caring, nurturing and strong. 

God, she always says gave her the gift of her 5 children; like her 5 fingers, she couldn't live without her fingers. But really we are the fortunate ones. God truly gave us the gift of her. So lucky, are we...

On The Street Where You Live

My brother told me a few Sunday's ago, while we were all together for dinner, that the beloved house that we grew up in was for sale. 

Really, I thought. I had always fantasized about buying it back. 

He then showed us the listing on line. It was with much joy that we (thanks to technology) looked through the photos online of our childhood home. I could hardly believe my eyes..not much had changed since the 37 years ago that we moved out. I noticed the kitchen floor was the same tile floor my mom had installed in the 70's. The bathrooms looked to be the same bathroom we used as kids and the finished basement, where we had a bumper pool table and the neighborhood's first video games hadn't changed at all. Such happy memories growing up in that beloved house. 

For two weeks I couldn't get my house out of my head. Not to far from where I live now, I had often driven by the home and pointed it out to my children and my husband. Each time I watched and wondered why it had fallen into disrepair. I often said I would have given anything to get back inside and see it. Now was my chance and I knew that I probably wouldn't have this opportunity again. I watched the listing waiting for an open house opportunity and yesterday I had my chance!

I took my mom and we toured the house I grew up in. She was delighted to see the deep red, kitchen tile she installed still in pretty good shape. I was so taken by the closet doors, still slatted and with the same door handles that I grew up with. What wasn't so great about that was that the closets inside were still the same wooden dowels that we had hung our clothes many years before. They looked old because they were. Even the kitchen pantry, where I used to scour for goodies and treats, was the same four shelved wooden closet. It had stood the test of time, but because of that it was obviously time for change. 

The bathroom by the back door was the same! I swear my mom installed that Dixie cup dispenser when we were kids...and there it was. We wondered if going back into the house after all those years would be emotional, but it wasn't for either of us. It was great, really! And it felt so good to be able to remember good memories we shared inside the house. Truth is, it felt just like home-even with someone else's belongings everywhere. Even the realtor walked around with us as we toured the house, listening to us comment on everything. She later told us that we had made her day as it was obvious to her how much we loved living in that house.

I took a selfie in almost every room of the house and there I am inside my old room. I stood at the point where I used to sit and play records and dolls and I swear I could have stayed there all day-just happy to be inside. I took pictures for my brothers and sisters too, and I sent this picture to my brother of me outside the closet he used to lock me in-then take off and leave me there-when we played hide and go seek. Again-they were the same wooden shelves I had squeezed into when I was a kid. 

We left no stone unturned and we even toured the garage. 

My eyes spied this on the garage window.

That was my dad's security company that he owned when we lived there!! Mom was tickled to see it was still there. 

Standing there on the driveway where I learned to ride a two wheeler and skinned many a knee, it was obvious that even though we didn't live there any longer, we were still very much a part of that beautiful home and its legacy. If the old saying is true, that life takes you to unexpected places but love brings you home, then I have come full circle and truly come home. 

Will we buy it back? Who knows? We talked about it and we agreed that it seemed like after we left,  the people that lived in it stopped taking care of it, never truly loving it the way we did. We are intrigued to say the least, but we all agree-it needs a lot of love and some serious TLC.

Sunday Morning

So I walked into a local grocery store this morning, to grab a couple of things before work. The moment I entered the aroma awakened my senses with the most amazing smell...

I looked at the cashier at the door and said, "I smell sausage."

She smiled and said, "Yes! The deli guys are making sausage for the lunch crowd."

The smell was heaven. It smelled, I told her, like Sunday morning. When I was a kid, being the last in a line of 5 children, I grew up to the smell of sweet Italian sausage cooking every Sunday morning. On Sunday, my mom would have a big breakfast waiting for her family. There was regularly an array of breakfast foods at my house on Sunday morning. My dad, 100% of Italian descent, would play tennis with his buddies early every Sunday morning and when he arrived home, breakfast was always ready.

Back in the innocence of those days, food was love. We never thought about fat content, calories and gluten. We ate because we were growing kids and my mother made sure we ate well. Sunday mornings were my favorite because it was the best of everything. We always had fresh fruit; cantaloupe, strawberries, blueberries and orange juice as well as toast, assorted danish and pastries, eggs, bacon, pancakes and of course, sweet Italian sausage. Sometimes she even made a breakfast quiche and if you wanted an omelette, my mom would be ready with the frying pan to accommodate.

I was usually the first to rise, my brothers and sisters all teens at the time, would wake later because the yummy smell could wake anyone from a deep slumber no matter how lazy they were. My dad, at the head of the table, ate slowly, with the Boston Globe in front of him and I would happily read the comic page and enjoy the breakfast with my family. Those were some of the happiest memories I have of growing up. It was our very own Brady Bunch moment, and it was part of our routine.

My children love sweet Italian sausage too. Our busy lives today, unfortunately never lent to the innocence of Sunday morning breakfast. When my kids were little there were early Sunday hockey games, lacrosse games or rehearsals to attend, so I tried my best to make Sunday mornings as special as I could. And yes, I cooked the sausage.

It's amazing how that smell this morning brought me such happiness and joyous memories all in a flash.

Frick and Frack are home from college now and you can bet that this Sunday will be special. In fact, I'm making the grocery list now. Be dammed fat, sugar, gluten and calories! I want to make a memory and I think that's far more important, if only for a Sunday morning.

Today's Special: 2 For 1 A "Real Bargain"

So there has been a lot of funny talk about marriage at The Daily Dandy lately. I called to memory-and even pulled up and recited-a post that made me chuckle. I thought it really put things into perspective then and I still do now, as I have repeated this story more than once in the past week.I hope it brings you a laugh and some perspective too.


This is a RE-POST which first appeared here on July 29th, 2010. Titled "Divine Intervention"

So I was at my store the other day and one of my favorite customers and I were having a chat. We were talking about marriage and spouses and such, seeing as I'm heading down that path again in just 5 short weeks. We talked about longevity and commitment and how marriage is work. I was telling her that my mom has been complaining that she is really frustrated with my dad lately, for one reason or another. My customer then relayed this story to me, which I found to be quite amusing, indeed. I then, immediately relayed the story to my mom. True or not, this is one I will remember.

She told me that she had seen an interview with the Rev Billy Graham and that she always calls it to mind when she is feeling less than amorous with her spouse. She said it gives her peace.
The story goes like this:

The Reverend was asked by the interviewer if the Lord had ever spoken to him directly. The Reverend response was, "Only once." He went on to say that he had been arguing with his wife one day and while shaving his face alone in the bathroom, still stewing over the specifics of their argument, the Lord spoke to him and said, "You're no bargain, either."

I couldn't help but think it was genius.

Whether or not the higher power actually intervened and spoke those words of truth to the Reverend is completely irrelevant to the point, which is, so true.

"You're no bargain, either"

Damn, ain't that the truth.
This is not an endorsement of the Reverends teachings, or a religious or political agenda advancement. It's just a simple take on that age-old commitment of marriage.

It sure puts things into perspective doesn't it?

The New England Experience

A major snow storm is predicted for these parts later today, all day tomorrow and into Wednesday morning. Forecasts predict up to two feet or more of snow dumped into our area in the next 48 hours with close of 32 hours of heavy snowfall.

And that means it's time for the New England experience.

I was born and raised in Massachusetts, so I've seen my fair share of snow storms. I even survived the Blizzard of '78 as a kid who was out of school for over a week. Yes, it snows a lot here and yes, we always manage to survive it. This time they are predicting a blizzard with 24-28 inches of snow with potential flooding and strong damaging winds. OK-so that means a few things to us:

• Check the salt, sand and ice melt in your garage. I can't even imagine what Home Depot looks like today, but I'm pretty sure its got SOLD OUT signs everywhere. 
• Buy batteries, candles, matches and flashlights. These are essential storm preparedness items.  Also-charge all essential electronics, cell phones, lanterns, lap tops and Ipads. 
• Food and Water-It's insane how crazy the region gets over food and water. We have known about the severity of this storm for just about 24 hours and our local markets are already bare bone! I took these pics this morning at our local major supermarket. 

                                                 

• Test the generator. Power outages will be a reality this storm and we don't know for how long. Because of the severity of the weather challenges in this region, most people I know have invested in hard wired generators. It's just smart business for most of us who live in older towns where the power lines are still above the ground and the investment comes back two fold on storms like this. 
• To me-the snow storm means people will home SHOPPING ONLINE! Why not take advantage of this fact and have an ONLINE SALE?!!! Go to www.candybarcosmetics.com this Tuesday, Jan 25th and Wednesday, Jan 26 and use the code SNOWDAY at checkout to receive 20% off your purchase. 

It's like this: we bitch and moan about the big storms and yes, it can be dangerous, inconvenient and bad for business but the one thing we all know to be true is that it is uniquely New England. I was talking to my mom today in who is in Florida and she told me that this snow storm is the lead story on every newscast down there. She then told me that she's a wee bit envious. She said that despite the nuisance of a snow storm, it's that warm and endearing feeling you get while hunkering down with your family that she will miss.  

I gotta agree with her on that. 

Mom's Rock

What My Mother Taught Me

My mother taught me RELIGION.
“You’d better pray that will come out of the carpet.”

My mother taught me TIME TRAVEL.
“If you don’t straighten up, I’m going to knock you into the middle of next week!”

My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
“Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you’re in an accident.”

My mother taught me IRONY.
“Keep crying, and I’ll give you something to cry about.”

My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
“Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!”

My mother taught me about WEATHER.
“This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it.”

My mother taught me about ENVY.
“There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don’t have wonderful parents like you do.”

My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
“Just wait until we get home.”

My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
“You are going to get it when you get home!”

My mother taught me HUMOR.
“When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don’t come running to me.”

My mother taught me WISDOM.
“When you get to be my age, you’ll understand.”

My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
“One day you’ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you”.

Happy Mothers Day Bloggers! Mom-thanks for all the lessons you taught me! I Love you.

The Color Of Rosemary

So the people over at Julep Nail polish asked me to participate in a "fun blogging campaign" for Mother's Day.  The email, from the Community  Outreach Coordinator read as follows: 

"We’re asking great bloggers like you to participate by writing a post about which color best represents the members of your family. Whether you chose to write about your own mother or your children, we want to know what color represents each of them best in your eyes."

I'm thinking they are very smart to ask me because this topic represents two of my favorite things; my mother and beauty products. Inspired, I began thinking about this task all morning and I brainstormed to come up with the words for the color that best represents my mom. Her name is Rosemary. She is also known as Rose or Rosie so its only fitting that the color red comes to mind. 

Red is fiery and passionate like my mom. Those who know her best would describe her as a straight shooter, a pistol with a sharp mind and tongue and OH BOY does she know how to use it. Yes, red is definitely part of my moms personality, but when I got started brainstorming I found that there was so much more than red to the color of Rosemary. 

My mom is solid. My mom is elegant, physically beautiful, vibrant and funny. I'll add in a dash of the shocking things she sometimes says and the sparkle in her eyes. Suddenly there's a new color emerging. She's sweet but tart and loving and kind. Rich in many things, my mother, her colorful personality is what attracts us to her like the moth to the flame.  Her pride and joy are her 5children. "my five fingers" she says, "I can't function without my five fingers." Her loyalty is ever lasting which makes her dependable so The Color of Rosemary needs to be chip resistant and gorgeous. 

When I add all of that to the color red, I see a deep, rich, bold color emerging. A hot pink Fuschia like no other. A pink for the ages with a flat, but bold shine. 

Yes, The Color of Rosemary definitely stands out among the crowd. 

Good Stuff Cheap

When I was a kid my mom used to drag us, (and I mean drag us) to a discount department store chain around these parts called Building 19. The 11 stores, located in MA, New Hampshire and Rhode Island are housed inside a huge warehouse. The basis of Building 19's business plan is an off priced buyout chain. Department store castoffs, clearance items, and inventory other department stores deem, "dead" or "un-sell-able", soon become a major player in Building 19's sales plan . Dirty, dusty and crappy are the three adjectives that come to me  off the top of my head, and the store's famous slogan is and has always been "Good stuff Cheap". Building 19 always had a sense of humor about their stores, and off color jokes can be found on handwritten on posters on the cement walls.

Needless to say the joint is a junk pile, but one that I remember spending a bit of time in as a kid. My mom loved it! Having 5 kids, the endless rows of books, toys, tools, clothes, and any other kind of junk you can think of appealed to my mom. Plus, when we got there, we would disperse from my mom and traipse all over the place. Looking back now she was brilliant. In those days, you could let your kids run rampant through a department store and she got a much needed break from us with some retail therapy as a bonus.

Yesterday my mom and I went back in time and went to Building 19 together.

It was the same old dirty junk pile that I remember but this time I was a woman with a wallet and a different out look on their junk. My mom and I split up, some things never change, and I ended up getting a few great bargains. Tommy Bahama irregular t-shirts (that hardly looked irregular) were $6.99 ea. I buy those t-shirts for My Guy quite often and they retail for $49.99 and up. I bought six at the discounted price of $6.99 which is less than the retail price of one. I found boxes and boxes of greeting cards. While I had to sift through them, I managed to buy all of my mother's day cards for both mothers, grandmothers and several hilarious random birthday cards for .33 cents each! A real bargain there, because now a days cards are expensive.

I proceeded to find funky, cheap readers for $1.99, (cuz remember I told you I'm blind) and generic name zip lock freezer and sandwich bags for a few dollars. I was quite conscious of price, because when you are shopping for a bargain you want to be able to brag about it, but as I proceeded through the store I found that all their good stuff wasn't so cheap. Or not as cheap as I remember. I'm thinking it may have something to do with the down economy, and that vendors and department stores are unable to take huge losses on overstock like they once used to.

In any case I manged to do my part to support Building 19. I ended up with a several bags full of junk, for a grand total of $55.49. None of it, I really needed, but it afforded me an opportunity to bond with my mom doing something we have always done. Shop till we drop.

Gotta love "good stuff cheap".

Who Lobbied For Murphy To Pass His Law?

Get a load of this one...

So yesterday was day three and counting of no power. My mom and I decide to get a hotel room so the children could have a hot shower before the first day of school today. A hot shower for myself wouldn't have been a bad idea because the shower I took yesterday was so COLD that it gave me a headache. Anyway, My Guy and My Dad stay at home (because we have 3 dogs) and we pack up everything, have dinner and settle in to the hotel room with the TV on. I have never been so happy to watch a re-run of NCIS, I tell ya.

I turn out the lights and I'm just about to fall asleep in my air conditioned room, when My Guy texts me. I know what it's gonna say, because he went to bed almost an hour earlier. "The power is on", the text says. I chuckle to myself and think if we hadn't got the hotel room, we wouldn't have got the power back. That's just how that Murphy's Law thing works, doesn't it? I call him and he tells me that the power surge woke him up and that it took him a good 20 minutes to shut everything off because every single light in the house was on. Great. No really, I'm so happy, but I tell him we are staying put and we will enjoy the hotel for the night. Why not? We drift off to sleep. Or so I think.

Frack is tossing and turning and Frick is sniffling. Loud.
12:30 AM, Frack wakes me to tell me he can't sleep. Being the caring and understanding mother that I am, I respond with,

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing," he says. Poor Kid.

It's now about 2:00 AM I think and I see Frick's waif-y little silhouette sitting in the arm chair next to my bed. After blinking so hard that I practically break my cornea, I ask her what the HELL she is doing?

"Nina (her grandmother) is snoring and I can't sleep," she responds.

I already know this because the snoring was keeping my slumber at bay also.

"Go back to bed," I say, and she does.

Miraculously we make it through the rest of the night without much disturbance. Save for the snoring....and the alarm goes off at 5:30 AM. We snooze it a few times and Frack rises for his shower.

"Mom, there's no hot water."
Frack is now standing in front of me with a towel wrapped around his waist. If this is a joke, it's a bad one and I look at him with that WTF face you make when you are half asleep at 5:30 in the morning.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes mom. There's a snow flake on one side of the shower knob and a sun on the other side and the water is cold on the sun side," he says.

Oh yes, I get out of bed and guess what? He had the knob on the wrong season. Problem solved. Hot water flows. Except now I'm WIDE AWAKE.

Frick gets up and starts banging on the door. "Frack, I gotta pee. Let me in!!!" "
"No way, I'm naked," he says.

About 20 more minutes of them fighting over this and that and sure enough, they wake my mom. She starts screaming at them to grow up and stop it, and I'm so grateful when they leave at 6:30 AM. My mom and I start to relax again and we are talking about where we are going to have breakfast when the hotel FIRE ALARM goes off, loud and screeching.

Over the loud beeping we hear, "Attention guests. We have been notified of an emergency. Please exit the building immediately."

Are you kidding me? It's 6:40 AM and we gotta leave the hotel. I look at my mother and tell her to get up and get dressed cuz we are getting the HELL OUTTA HERE and I start throwing everything into a suitcase. Lord, I'm not even sure I got everything from the room, but I didn't care. I think I left black skid marks as I was speeding past the multiple fire trucks and hotel guests outside the building, but I didn't look back.

All I know is that I took an hour long shower this morning and turned on almost every electrical device I could find.

And I'm grateful that I could, dont' get me wrong.

Maybe Blondes Aren't So Dumb

Three guys go into a strip club and sit down at the bar; a brunette guy, a bald guy and a blonde guy.
A young, sexy stripper steps on top of the bar and begins dancing for them.

The brunette guy, feeling like a big shot, takes out a $20 bill, licks the back of it, and sticks it to the stripper's ass.

The bald guy, not wanting to be outdone, takes out a $50 bill , licks the back of it, and sticks it to the stripper's ass.

The blonde guy, feeling obligated to participate, pulled out his ATM card, swiped it between the cheeks of the stripper's ass and took both the $20 and the $50 dollar bill.

Happy Weekend bloggers!

Ode To Mother

"I'll always love my mama. She's my favorite girl." The Intruders.

Mom, you're the one.
The only one, or the one and only; depending on what day it is.

You're my best friend and my biggest fan.
And my toughest critic.

You're my center, my soul mate and the most influential element in my life.
From you, I learn all.

I may not agree with you all the time, but I don't have to. You taught me to respect what I believe in.

You may not know this but I strive to be like you. Even more as an adult.
You leadership strong and unwavering.I would never be who I am, without you.

You're the first person I need when times get tough, and you always know just what to say...whether I like it or not.

Being with you is like being home, safe and warm.

I love to laugh with you and I love your mind. Hanging out with you makes any day complete.
God damn it though, mom! Do you always have to be right?

Most of all I just love you. My mom, my friend.

And I want to wish you the happiest of day's on what should be considered the National Holiday that it is. Your birthday.

Happy Birthday mom. I love you.

Who Is Gravel Gertie?

I feel as if I should know this nostalgic character, Gravel Gertie, as she was a recurring figure during my formative years. As a child, I would more often than not hear my mother's words, "Candy, come over here. For goodness sake, you look just like Gravel Gertie." or "Lemme just freshen up, I must look like Gravel Gertie." Message here: Gertie was a hot mess.

So I decided to dig a bit deeper to find out who or what exactly is a "Gravel Gertie". Wiki defines Gert as:

Gravel Gertie - former criminal and now wife of B.O. Plenty. Introduced in The Brow episode. In 1944 She is a widow for thirty years after her first husband sold her farm rights for a gravel pit and then died when his car backed into his own gravel pit. Tried to hide the Brow from the police after she found him in wrecked car; arrested when her hair from her clothes brush matched gray hair found near burning car. In a comic relief the Brow flees in terror when he catches his first glimpse of his guardian angel. In his struggle to escape an old fashioned lamp is knocked over; her shack burns down and her long hair is burned off. Later married B.O. Plenty and became mother of Sparkle Plenty. In a later continuity, it was established that Gertie had spent part of her childhood in an orphanage; while she was there, criminals shaved her head and tattooed onto her bald pate a treasure map showing the location of their buried loot, then allowed her hair to regrow to conceal the map ... which was belatedly rediscovered well into Gertie's adulthood. Dick Tracy was a popular strip for the railroad workers, and Gravel Girtie is the affectionate nickname of a part of the Clifton Forge line of the C & O Railroad. It stretches from Hinton, West Virginia to Clifton Forge, Virginia and delivered limestone gravel quarried from Fort Spring to the iron furnaces of Virginia as a fluxing agent.

Does this help to answer my age old question of who this character is and why I would never want to look like her? Not really. What I find fascinating is that I know Gravel Gertie at all. A minor player in the Dick Tracy comic strips, yet omnipresent in my life's script. Poor Gert, she didn't win the pretty olympics and was orphaned and abused. Her head shaved by criminals, it was tattooed with a treasure map then allowed her hair to re-grow to conceal it. Then after marriage and motherhood her hair is burned off in a fire. Tragic figure at best. I get it now, keep your hair coiffed and keep your enemies at bay. Kind of.

I once asked my mother who Gravel Gertie was and she told me that it was someone her mother warned her to never look like. A generational warning, passed down through the years. Have I passed on the tradition? I may have uttered those, "Good Lord Frick, you look just like Gravel Gert." warnings more than a few times, but I think it's safe to say the line ends her for the legend of Gravel Gert in my family. Just like the old Dick Tracy comics, my kids think Dick Tracy is a movie with Warren Beatty and Madonna.

But to me Gertie will always be something more and after today, I may just be proud to look like Gert every now and again. She was a survivor, a mother and wife, from another era who earned the right to look like a hot mess. Even thought she was a character in someone's mind, I now have my own picture of who Gravel Gertie is.

I gotta tell my mom. I just may wear the Gravel Gertie moniker as a badge of honor.

What's Cookin'?

So, today is a holiday with our observance of Columbus day and my store is closed. I find myself with a happy, much needed day to bond with my family. Growing up, when my mom wanted to re-connect with us, she would cook, knowing that the wonderful, wafting scents from her kitchen would keep up all around all day. This is my plan for today. On the menu:

• Cupcakes. Seriously, who doesn't love cupcakes?

• Muffins. My Guy has requested homemade chocolate chip. No problemo.

• Chili. I got a serious hankering for some veggie chili after reading Corey James' blog today.

• Pot Roast. It's getting chilly, so tonite a nice pot roast will be a welcome meal for the troops.

Nothing makes me happier than knowing my family is eating wholesome food cooked my mom. Frick and Frack love to help in the kitchen too, so sometimes I can get them to tell me things while we are cooking together that they wouldn't otherwise. You know, they can't use the TV or the computer as an excuse for not answering any of my pointed questions. In the kitchen, it's just easy, casual, conversation...most of the time.

What's cookin' today? A whole day of family love and fun.

And I can't wait.

Sayonara Sorellina

What do you do when you go out for a celebratory birthday dinner and you are treated to the WORST possible dining experience you have EVER had???

Unfortunately for my family and I, it happened to us last night. It was mom's birthday and we took her to, what used to be, her favorite restaurant, Sorellina in downtown Boston. Things fell apart quite quickly when we arrived at our table. There were 12 of us and we were seated at a long table, 6 on one side and 6 on the other. This was really no problem, as it was the only way the restaurant could accommodate a large party, but I ended up on one end of the table, my mom at the other. At times I felt like I wasn't even with celebrating with her.

The young waiter took our drink order, served us the drinks then proceeded to take our order for dinner. Being on the end of the table, My Guy and I were the last to place our order. As My guy was ordering, he asked the waiter if he could order a special appetizer, as is, but without the meat. He was swiftly told,"No, the chef will not change a special." My Guy then told him that the chef did, in fact, accommodate him on this request the last time we were there. He was flatly told, "No" again. So he proceeded to place his order. Sorellina is a very high-end restaurant that offers the diner several course selections. After My Guy ordered his appetizer, he ordered a pasta course and was about to move on to his main course when the waiter snapped the menu out of his hand, quickly. My Guy told him, "I'm not done ordering yet." to which the waiter apologized, and he completed his order. I sort of giggled and said to the waiter, "Are you in a hurry?". He laughed and answered, "no.."

This was all before 7:30 pm. Slowly during the next few hours the appetizers were served. Around 9:25, (no kidding) our dinners arrived, but everyone was having a good time, laughing and drinking. I should have known that things were going to come to a bad conclusion and quickly when the young waiter asked my brother-in-law and my brother, who were the only ones drinking mixed drinks "are either of you driving?" They had had 2 drinks each at that point, and we were as perplexed as they were. So at 9:25, when the dinners were served, everyone was served, EXCEPT My Guy. No one said a word to us so I asked the waiter where his dinner was to which he responded, "It's coming."

I waited at least 10 minutes with my untouched dinner sitting in front of me, until I brought the waiter over, told him how unacceptable it was to serve an entire table except one, and told them to take muymeal away and to bring it back when his dinner was ready. By this time, everyone at the table was just about finished with their dinners so my sister got up to complain to the manager. Her complaints were basically ignored. Now I began to fume. Not once during the 20 more minutes we waited for the dinner to arrive, did the manager come over to the table to inquire about the situation or apologize. By now I had lost my appetite. When the dinner did finally arrive, I curtly told them to take it away, that they had ruined my evening, and that I no longer wanted my dinner. The waiter replied, "why?" Already pissed, I raised my voice (uncharacteristically) and said, "Take it away, now!"

We left there no too long after that debacle, vowing NEVER to return, and rightly so. I felt terrible that I had let the restaurant's inadequacy ruin my mom's birthday celebration. I called her this morning to apologize for letting my temper get the best of me. She proceeded to tell me that it wasn't my fault. I then found out that the waiter had screwed up both her and my sister's orders on the other end of the table, and was just as unapologetic. She said it was the worst experience she had ever had at Sorellina, which she used to love, but would never return.

When a corporate chain decides that their customers comfort is of no importance to them, what is one left to do? I guess we will spend our money at restaurants where service and quality are important and where customer satisfaction matters.

Sayonara Sorellina. You blew it big time.

Photo Friday

My blogger friend Corey James over at Madtexter tagged me for a photo meme. Since it's Friday, I figured what the hey, I'll play!

The rules of this one are easy:

• Go to your first photo file and pick the 10th photo in it.
• Tell the story behind the photo.
• Tag 5 other people to do the same.

This photo was taken last June at my mother's Rockin' Birthday celebration. We had a big surprise party for her where we traveled by bus to a private room in a swank Boston restaurant, ate a swank Boston meal, roasted her, (well, I was the only one who roasted her, everyone else wimped out) and then traveled to an improv club where she was the star of the entire show. Mom said it was the greatest night of her life.

Pictured here with me, from left to right is my handsome as HELL nephew #1, Laurel, My Guy, My boobs,er..umm,.. I mean me, and my handsome as hell nephew #2, Hardy (not their real names). We are standing outside the restaurant, engaging in small talk and smoking disgusting cigarettes.

I love this photo because I love those boys like they were my own. Since I was about their age when they were born, I was their nanny for more that a few summers and I feel like our bond is very strong. Now that they are grown men, I enjoy spending time with them whenever I can, which is not very often. That night was a very special night for my family and I think that's evident by this photo.

I'm not a good meme tagger, so I will do the wimpy thing and just throw it out there to see what sticks. If you like the idea, run with it. I hope it brings you joyous memories, as it did for me. I want to thank Corey James for bringing me back to that great night and I will leave you with a photo from that night of the whole Rockin' fam-damily. My moms is ,of course, front and center.

Oh what a night!

The Sweet Smell Of Success

Can you smell it?

Yes, that heavenly scent is the sweet smell of a sucessful plan brought to fruition. My mom's rockin' birthday bash was a HUGE success-and even that's an understatement. Today please allow me to bore you with the details and then I promise to never bring it up again. So indulge me for this one day because we are still on a high.

We soooo got her.

We rented a luxury bus, and all of my moms kids and grandkids were stowed away on the bus to whisk us away for the suprise evening. The plan or "ruse" was for me and My Guy and my dad to take her out to dinner to her favorite restaurant, but really we were all going to another fabulous restaurant where my big brother had expertly arranged everything. We had our own private room and a private menu for the occassion. We had to be at the restaurant early-because my brother had arranged another surprise-we were leaving after dinner to go to the Improv Asylum in Boston where my mom was to be featured as part of the show. But before I get to that-we had to figure out a way to get my mom on the bus for the suprise.

We get to my mom's house early and my brother texts me to tell me to stall because they weren't there (the bus load) and were running late. So we are talking and having some wine, all the while waiting for them to show. Finally after my dad and I trying to stall and much, "look at my new shrubs out back" I get the text that the bus is here and in position. So me, My Guy, my dad and mom all get into the car in the GARAGE and pull out. The bus was strategically parked in front of the driveway, blocking access. We feign a, "What the hell is this?" kind of thing and my mom tells me to get out and tell the bus to move. The only detail I had left to chance was how I was going to get her out of the car and onto the bus. So I stick my head into the bus and say to my family, "How am I going to get her out of the car?" We decide to tell her that there is some old lady that she knows on the bus and wants to say hi to her, which she buys-and mom gets out of the car and walks up to the bus.

She was flabbergasted! It took her a good five minutes to greet every one, all 26 of us, and soon the champagne was flowing and we were on our way. My mom was so happy!!! It was great! We got the the restaurant about 20 minutes later and mom says, "I don't want to get off the bus, I'm having such a good time", but we tell her there is an entire evening of surprises ahead. In the private room they have set up a video screen for us so that we could play for her a youtube video of the family members that couldn't make it. My mom loved it. Then it was on to the roast.

Now, you all know how nervous I was- I had decided to do a top ten-(thank you Zibsy) entitled, "Top Ten Reasons Why My Mom's A Friggin Rock Star". So we went around the room and everyone stood up and said something to my mom. It was wonderful because everyone said such nice things to mom-everyone going the "you are so wonderful" and "I love you so much"route. Then it was her five kids turn, and I'm thinking here's the roast. Let's just say it was a collective CHOKE on my siblings part, because they either cried and got emotional or made it short and sweet and I mean sweet. I was sweating it out now because my brother, who I told you is quite possibly the funniest guy on the planet, decided he wasn't going to be funny. Since I am the youngest, I was next to last so I stepped up, told my mom that this was supposed to be a roast, and that I not only took my assignment seriously, I decided to "stick the knife in and twist it around a bit".

I slayed it. It was a great moment for me and my family, and I quite literally left them in tears. EVERYBODY loved it! My mom took the list for framing and I got requests from my siblings to forward them the list so that they could do the same. (Thank you bloggers for your suggestions and support) I guess I was just the right man for the job. She also loved the wall portrait, which is already hanging proudly in her bedroom, and I took your suggestion bloggers, and framed the four pictures of us laughing in a separate frame which was possibly her favorite.

Next we were off the comedy show. My mom was called onto the stage for an "interview" which the comics then use for a improv sketch based on the information they garner. She was so funny, quick, sharp and hilarious-that the comic that interviewed her said, after she had returned to her seat. "Rosemary, I have interviewed a lot of people in my years doing this show and you are by FAR-my favorite." He also told her during the interview, "I think I love you." To which she replied, "Honey, you couldn't afford me."

The sketch was uproarious, which featured perfect zingers like when they re-enacted my parents first phone conversation as my mom saying, " Who is this? You sound poor," to the last moment when the comic playing my dad says to the comic playing my mom, "Rosemary, I don't have much, but I can offer you this." Above his head was an enourmous disco ball to which he put his hand under as if it were a diamond ring. We just about died laughing, as even they couldn't help but notice my mother's cache of "bling" proudly displayed that evening.

My mom said it was the greatest night of her life and I have to say that it was one of the greatest nights of mine. All kidding aside, you take away the bling and all the other crap that really means nothing, and you still have one of the greatest human beings to ever inhibit this planet. She has not lost a step-and to this day she is loved and revered by everyone who knows her. It hasn't always been easy for her, but she has survived it all and taught her children well. Every diamond, wish of love, zing thrown in good fun, and declaration of her greatness is well deserved. As the matriarch of our family, there is no question we would be lost without her.

I am still in awe and will be forever grateful that God chose to give her to me.

I'll Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Today's post is a plea for help from my blogger friends. I guess you could consider it a lazy-ass post, but truth be told, I need some serious help. Saturday night is the night of my mom's big birthday celebration and we have planned to roast my mom. You'd think this would be no problem for a writer, right??? Wrong. I have a MASSIVE case of writer's block and I know nothing about comedy writing.

So here's the thing, my moms is a riot! Loud, boisterous, at times overbearing and tough, but a real sweetie who people just can't help but love. And love my mom they do. As the youngest of the family and the staff writer, I really want to do my mom proud and rib the shit out of her, but I can't seem to get anything down on paper that seems appropriate. Everything I have come up with so far sounds either too tough or too mushy and not at all funny. Is there a formula or a template to follow when roasting your MOM???

My mom has a great sense of humor so anything I say, I'm sure, will be taken in good fun and there are a million topics to discuss. I thought I would start with my mother's cursing habit. Yup, my moms could have a sit down with a gaggle of crass truck drivers and school them all on the fine art of using swear words, then leave them in awe of her greatness. She has even taken to explaining her swearing to a slight case of Tourette Syndrome, (no offense meant) There's her rock-star shopping habits I told you about. I figured I could make a joke about how TJ Maxx is going to retire her credit card number and raise it to the rafters of the store, and how the home shopping network has a hard time paying it's utilities bills when mom is traveling, and how they will call her to check up on her if she hasn't purchased anything for a day.

Then there's all the crap she put us through as kids, and how it was a well known fact amongst the neighborhood kids NOT to mess with my mom or she would cut you down. Cut first, question later. I also learned from my mom that "the thing" was a pronoun. It was always, go upstairs on "my thing" and get "the thing" for me. We knew better than to ask and God forbid we didn't find "the thing". We got the old, "if I have to come up there and find it myself you are in so much trouble". We were doomed before we even started and we knew it. Then there's her diamonds. I cannot tell you how many people know my mom because of her diamonds. Her nick-name at her fave restaurant is "bling" and the ladies at the nail shop know my mom as, "I know you mom. Big diamonds, you mom."

I began this process much like most writers do, by brainstorming. The problem for me is, I just want to be funny. These are all stories that we have told a million times before, so how do I put a nice comedic spin on them and make them fresh again? Have any of you roasted someone before? I need some tips on how to write comedy effectively. The steaks are high here and the pressure is on the writer to deliver. If any of you have any good mother jokes, let's have at em, maybe I can turn them into something that would work for the roast. Or if any of you have delivered a roast to someone special, could you please share your experience with me and what worked for you and what didn't.

I NEED to deliver, or it's my goose that will be roasted.

You Decide: A Rare Photo Op Of Candy's Dandy Family

Photo 1

My moms birthday is coming up in a few weeks, so two nights ago my brothers and sisters and I got together at my house. We took some pictures to have framed to give to my mom as a gift. We took 45 pictures and we have narrowed it down to three, but of course, we can't decide. It all comes down to the battle of the sexes; the boys vs. the girls.

I'm putting it out there for you all to decide. Please vote for the one you think is the best photograph on the poll on my sidebar and let's see which one wins because I have to get this sucker to the framer, today.

OK, so the photograph above is the one all the girls agree on. We love this photo. We like the way my older brother has his arms around all of us and the fact that everyone looks great. We think this is a no-brainer. BUT my brother, does not like this one. He likes this one:

Photo 2

While we all agree that this is a great photo, we think this one is not as warm or appealing as Photo 1. This one would be great in an 8x10 framed for a table photo, but not in a big 11x17 wall portrait size. The girls think this one is too perfectly spaced, and does not show our personalities as much as Photo 1, but the boys like this one and think that visually this is a better photo. (Do men and women see spacial relations differently??)

Photo 3

This is the third option and it is the one that everyone looks at and says,"You know, I kinda like this one too." After much deliberation we (the girls) decided that this one was too "pose-y", with all of us lined up according to height, but again, it's a shot we keep coming back to. A great candidate for a 8x10 or a 5x7.

Thanks so much for helping us out. Please vote and let's see what happens.
We thought about having them all framed together in one big collage, then unanimously decided we wanted just one shot for a wall portrait. We will most likely frame the runners-up, in 8x10's and we will make an album for mom with the rest of the shots.

A few side notes-
14 year-old Frick took all the shots. Didn't she do a fabulous job??? Props to Frick!!

This was a ton of fun and I highly recommend doing it if you have a special occasion to mark.

It's amazing to me that we got the shots that we did. Since my brother, the one in the white golf shirt, is quite possibly the funniest human being on the planet, there were a whole bunch like this:





These are, for sure, our most favorite!

Eagles Don't Fly With Crows

My mom always told us that Eagles don't fly with crows.

The logic is simple; kind of like when you lay down with dirty dogs you get fleas. The power of this statement rings true today more than ever. Eagles who fly with crows for longer than they should, will pay for it for a long time to come.

Because Eagles don't fly with crows.

A crow is, after all, a crow. Slick, black, loud and menacing. Always squawking for attention, and can be a cunning companion. The trickster at the carnival, the candy man in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (remember him?) Intriguing and alluring, but dangerous. The strong believe in their fortitude, never forgetting who they are but they are curious.

Eagles don't fly with crows.

The crow is the master of deviance, preying on the Eagle's principles and hiding inside the Eagle's shield of respect. Waiting in the darkness, creating havoc behind the hope of daylight. The Eagle is the moral compass by which flying creatures gage, the crow can only pretend until the jig is up.

Because Eagles don't fly with crows.

The crow is angry because he has been revealed for who he really is. Not an Eagle, but a crow and he is desperate to make things different, fool a new bunch of Eagles, but they know he will never be anything but a crow. And he is tangled in his webs of deception, the dirt of deceit, caked on his black coat.


Yes, Eagles don't fly with crows.


The Eagle is now free to soar and roam the world with opportunities endless, it's contributions valued by other Eagles, it's young safe and strong. The Eagle is content in the mountians and plains of it's habitat. It flies where it belongs, with the other Eagles.

The crow can only watch from a distance.



Eagles don't fly with crows.

My Mother Is A Rock Star

*For the record-that is NOT my mother. Sorry mom.*


My mother is a rock star, plain and simple.

She has that intangible "it" factor that others can only envy; always has. My mother has been blessed in many ways. She has five beautiful and talented children, 13 equally beautiful and talented grandchildren, the kindest of hearts, but she is no fool, (nobody messes with her- she will CUT YOU DOWN) and possesses the style of a Hollywood star, with a bank account to match.

Now that last detail, while generally irrelevant, is important in the context of the story I'm about to tell.

My mom, having completed her life's work; raising her five kids, has reached the stage in her life when she can enjoy herself, safe in knowledge that she has done her job well. The career path she is currently enjoying is that of SHOPPER. Stylist, to be exact, as we all benefit from one of moms daily excursions to the store of her choice. My mother has exquisite taste and style and is one hell of a hip chick. I speak the truth. She is the envy of women of all ages because not only is she beautiful, but she always looks stunning and stylish, and she knows quality. As I said before, my mom is not limited to where and what goods she can buy. I always tell her that if she were looking for a career she could easily be a Hollywood stylist. She's that good.

This is a woman that goes into Nieman Marcus and has a team of associates that follow her around to make sure her every need is catered to. She does not ask for such treatment, her mere presence in the store serves to create the buzz. One would think that because my mom would be considered a "big hitter" the commissioned employees have alterior motive when they see her, but the truth is they love her. They love to talk to her, ask her opinion and solicit her advice. Wherever we go, everyone knows and loves my mom. They know all of us by name, even if we don't know them because they picked out our birthday gift or Christmas gift. With service like that you would think that my mom would shop no where else, but you would be wrong. My mother is a wise woman. Her favorite destination, the store that is closest to her heart, where, like Cheers-everybody knows her name, is TJ Maxx. My mother enjoys the thrill of the hunt.

If you are in need of a new toaster, mom's got one. Need a panini maker? Check. Coffee maker?Espresso or Cappuccino? Whatever you need, moms got it at TJ Maxx South.

Fast forward to last Friday morning. My Guy is flying home from business in Atlanta. He is seated on the plane next to a woman executive who is working on her laptop. She tells him that she has been up all night preparing a presentation to deliver to the board of directors of her company this morning and asks if she can bounce a few ideas off him. He, of course, asks her what company she works for. She replies, "TJX Corporation". The executive continues on and when she is done, My Guy says, "I have a story to share with you." He goes on to tell her everything I have just told you here, except to elaborate on TJ Maxx South. He has dubbed the 2000+ sq ft area in my moms basement, where she stores the over flow of said goods, TJ Maxx South.

The woman executive is speechless. She tells My Guy that she has been up all night, looking for a way to wow the board, planning her strategy and in five minutes her just gave her the perfect opening to her presentation.
"Can I use her name, " she asks.
"Of course." he replies. "They all know her. Just mention her name."

They all know my mother because she has been contacted by high executives in the TJX Corporation on numerous occasions. They have called her to thank her for being a valued customer, they have solicited her opinion on her shopping likes and dislikes and they have asked her many times what they could do to make TJ Maxx better.

The executive on the plane was infused with a new energy, and told My Guy that my mom is EXACTLY the kind of customer they are looking for!

I can only imagine the look on the board member's faces as the executive from another state comes to town singing the praises of the legend that be my mom, who is, of course, their very own rock star.