Time to Cowgirl Up

The girlfriends are headed to Zona today for our annual trip to Big Sal's gorgeous Western home. A couple of us can't go this year but we're there in spirit.

I was reminded of a western expression this morning. While speaking about the economy and the enormous challenges facing our nation, someone said, "It's time for all of us to cowboy up." I immediately thought of the women pictured above. They have "cowgirled up" in big ways.

Some have dealt with illness and death with parents or in-laws. Some have watched the baby leave the nest. Some have carried the worry load over health issues with loved ones while jumping into action. In the two years since this photo was taken, some of our lives have changed dramatically -- in good ways too. There have been business ventures and new grandchildren. Many happy moments with family and friends. These women, and many others I know, choose to soldier on and they usually do it with a ton of class.

Tomorrow is Obama's inauguration and like millions of people, I will watch and listen. I'm sure his speech will be uplifting but he's given enough statements for us to know it will also be filled with warnings of tough times ahead. Frankly, I feel like I've been cowgirling up for a while now. But I will plod ahead. I may put on my cowboy boots, toast my girls in Zona and psyche myself up for a tougher cowgirl attitude.

Battle of the Sexes

When I travel, whether it's solo, with the husband or with girlfriends, I am in charge of certain things:

I pack my own clothes.
I make lists for any food or drinks we are responsible to bring. I run the errands.
If we're flying, I print out the e-tickets.
I make sure all prescriptions are filled and current.
I coordinate who will pick up the mail and the newspapers.
If we're taking the dog, I pack her bag.
I do laundry and go to the dry cleaners so all clothing options are available.
Depending on the trip, I have the names and phone numbers for the airline, rental car and anything else we might need.

Since I am a control freak, this works for me. One of my friends has to put her clothing out and then her husband packs for both of them. This would not work for me. If nothing else, I want my own suitcase.

The husband is traveling next week and I have:

Picked up prescriptions.
Picked up dry cleaning.
Ordered food for the meal he will prepare.
Grocery shopped for the other parts of the meal.
Bought paper plates, platters and napkins.
Started a pile of things he will need.

I still have two more errands to run for his trip. Last night, I pointed out how this seems a little out of balance. He responded, "It's not my fault you're the girl."

It's a lot easier to go play golf or catch up on paperwork when you have a control freak at home.

Gas Prices

The whole country is up in arms over fuel prices. Rightly so. It impacts every area of our lives.

I am lucky that I have a fuel-efficient car and since I work from home, my gas consumption is far below the norm.

Wouldn't it be nice if people took this challenge and made some changes? Instead of bopping to the mall or running around town, what if they ate in and played board games? Instead of plotting and planning a family vacation, what if they camped out in the family room or the back yard?

What if? Maybe instead of the resort, the kids could catch fireflies or teach the dog a new trick. How about hide and seek or tag? Do kids play this anymore? Instead of driving to endless destinations, maybe a book might be a fun diversion.

In every struggle, there's supposed to be a silver lining. Maybe the silver lining is learning that happiness is not in driving or flying somewhere. Maybe it's right there in your home. Maybe it's a dog that learns to shake your hand. Maybe it's a spirited board game. Maybe it's a DVD that crosses generations. Maybe it's going through photo albums and saying, "Look at you!"

This is easy for me to say because the children of this house are grown. However, we did have them both in the same room last Sunday. We did not use a bunch of gas. We threw a tenderloin on the grill and played board games. I highly recommend it.

Celebrity Hunt

Whenever I travel, especially to the east or west coast, I am constantly scanning the people around me. I'm looking for celebrities. I don't want an autograph and I don't bother them. (A year or so ago, I almost knocked Abby down on a NY street because Chris Rock was standing next to us.)

In this silly but harmless quest, I've been rewarded. I have seen and/or met:

OJ Simpson in the Dallas airport (while he was an athlete and before he became a murderer.)
Teri Garr in a CA hotel.
Jane Seymour in an airport.
Henry Winkler in a NY restaurant.
Kelly Ripa walking down a NY street.
Brooke Shields and Chris Henchy with their daughter in NY.
JFK, Jr. riding his bike in NY.
One of the Wilson brothers (Luke or Owen) on the subway.
Vincent Price, Jane Pauley, Ted Koppel, G. Gordon Liddy in various places.

There are many more.

Last night, the husband and I went to one of our favorite haunts. He stopped in the men's room so I headed to grab a couple of seats at the bar. I ordered us each a glass of wine and took out my notebook to jot down some thoughts. When he joined me, he asked, "Did you see who you're sitting next to?"

Peyton Manning, Indianapolis Colts Quarterback and Superbowl MVP two years ago. Local celebrity of huge magnitude. Big brother of Eli Manning, Superbowl MVP in this year's game. I've met him before but never bellied up to a bar next to him.

As usual, my head was in the clouds and my nose was in a notebook until the husband reeled me back to the real world.

The oldies lived with us when our Colts won the Superbowl. She would've been so impressed that I was sitting next to Peyton.

Waterbeds

Remember when everyone thought water beds were the ultimate in cool and sexy? I've never owned one but I have slept on one. It wasn't sexy. I was sleeping with my mother on a visit to see her sister.

I think it was 1983 or 1984.

My mother and I flew to Phoenix. My mother carried a sheet cake on her lap and got a little irritated when the passenger in front of her threw his seat back and almost smooshed the cake. The airline food union was on strike (this is when you actually expected a meal on a flight) so to compensate, we got free drinks. Yahoo!

The bed my mother and I slept in was not the wave less kind. (I'm not even sure they had been invented yet.) I remember each of us rolling over, trying to get comfortable and sending a tidal wave across the bed. It's hard to go back to sleep when the other person is screeching uncontrollably.

Miserly Ways

I admire penny pinchers and people who can stretch a dollar. Although, it bugs me when they're cheap tippers. I hit both ends of the scale. Sometimes I spend money I shouldn't; other times I could compete for Cheapskate of the Year.

I rarely shop for clothing -- I own more than enough. I buy my cosmetics and hair products at the drug store.

The Belle would clip coupons and complain about the cost of certain items. Then she would go out and buy something unnecessary and obscenely expensive.

The husband and I recently took another trip to the dungeon to clean out Hangdog's things. Stuff with price tags. New shirts, ties, sport coats. Shoes and boots that had barely or never been worn. More leather gloves than any person could wear in a lifetime. We've only put a dent in the basement stuff.

We all have our indulgences. The Belle chose spoiling her man. The husband chooses golf. That includes club fees, golf trips and the endless pursuit of the perfect clubs. I do not want to guess how many sets he owns.

I'm not judging; I have my weaknesses too.

Travel Partners

Some people travel better solo. Others settle into a comfortable routine with friends and/or business associates. In my early days of the corporate world, they used to ask the women to bunk together. I don't think they do that anymore.

I travel well with many of my girlfriends. We've shared rooms from Manhattan to Florida to Arizona to the Caribbean to Mexico. My first question in the morning is, "Did I snore?"

Traveling with the husband is my favorite. (He already knows we both snore.) We've traveled a lot this year but our trips together have revolved around funerals.

The only traveling I did with the oldies was driving them back and forth to Mississippi. I wish I had taken a girl trip with the Belle. It would never have happened. She would've insisted that Hangdog tag along.

The Golden Girls travel well together but it took a few years or decades to get that in sync. Plus, we're used to each other's quirks. We may get on each other's nerves but we recover quickly.

I just returned from Manhattan and a great conference. Abby and I have attended it multiple times. We did not share a room, although we often did that in our early business relationship. We both love NY. We both love this conference. We have a long-standing friendship which includes a profound respect for each other's opinions and each other's space. We manage to strike a balance of what we want to do together and when we need separate time.

Although I talk to her almost every day and we collaborate on many things, this conference weekend has often been a reconnection of our friendship. We're not afraid to say things. Maybe it's being out of our usual surroundings. Maybe we're both so pumped with ideas and excitement that some of the walls come down.

It's a business trip and we work very hard to absorb as much information as we can. We toss ideas at each other over a glass of wine. We have the luxury of discussion time without the nagging pressures of daily commitments. We talk about business. We spend some time on Memory Lane -- my favorite street. We make comments about each other's lives that we wouldn't say in our normal, time-pressured conversations.

She helped me sort through some things. I hope I was a sounding board for her.

Then, we shared our enthusiasm and excitement about attending next year.

Trapped

I went to the BMV yesterday to renew my driver's license. Some psycho woman was in line behind me and insisted on repeating the same phrases: "I didn't get my tags, did you?" I tried the polite smile and the minimal answer. It didn't work. "Are you sure we're in the right line?" (I'm very unclear about when she and I became a "we.")

I seem to attract these people. When I'm on an airplane, the stranger next to me ignores my obvious obsession with the crossword puzzle or my book. He or she feels the need to tell me about the job and the kids. Great! Good for you! Get your elbow off the armrest and we'll get along fine.

I used to think living with the oldies was a trap. I see the situation differently now.

A few times in my life what I viewed as a trap turned out to be a safety net.

Feeling Like a Fool

I'm not sure if Hangdog's plot was successful or I'm a total idiot. Maybe both.

His hip is not just broken, it's shattered. Bone fragments and metal pieces have run amok. Throw in his heart condition and we're having some really enlightening conversations of the pros and cons of surgery. That is, if we can find an orthopedic surgeon who thinks this might be plausible And, if the brothers agree this is a good idea.

I'm still getting on a plane tomorrow morning, albeit with a heavy heart and a ton of reservations.

My self examination tonight is not good. If this were the Belle versus Hangdog, I would've been in the waiting room all day. I'm not proud of myself. Our doctor assures me there is nothing to be done and he is resting comfortably. But the guilt lingers.

Should I Go?

My annual girlfriend trip to Phoenix is coming up. Normally, I would be giddy with anticipation. This year is a little different. The mother-in-law is still in the rehab facility. Hangdog is here and we have very few days to make some tough choices, get answers from VA and Medicare, choose a facility and actually move him. (Including packing for him and coordinating meds, etc.) Then, she will need to be moved as well.

This is my relaxation trip. I read. I get up early and sit with Abby (the other early riser) and we light a fire and sip our coffee. Other than a couple of trips to our favorite Mexican Cantina and the cowboy bar and the coffee shop, we eat whatever great stuff Big Sal has on hand. We're all easy to please. Jeans, sweats or PJs are the favored attire. We watch schmaltzy Lifetime movies. Then we eventually figure out the DVD player and watch other movies. We cuddle with Big Sal's dogs and we sit on the humongous patio or on the rooftop perch and solve the problems of the world, or just our lives.

I get to laugh. A LOT! Last year, I stumbled on Pam in the bathroom in the middle of the night. She thought I was a bear. Not only did we both scream but then we heard Cynthia laughing in her bed. (We had the bunkhouse last time, which is fabulous and for the record, I don't believe a bear could manage those stairs.)

We're all very predictable. Abby will be the first to go to bed, although I might challenge her this year. Mickey will be the last to rise, although I might challenge her this year. We will watch for the javelinas. (Don't call them pigs!)
We will go to Last Chance although none of us needs a single thing.

But...my house is in crisis. The oldies are in crisis. The husband cannot attend to all of these things alone.

I'll believe I'm actually going once someone throws me on the plane and I hear, "Cross check and call forward." Until then, I'm a little skeptical. But, I have been threatened with bodily harm by the girlfriends if I don't make the trip. That might do it. My girlfriends are mighty strong women. I'm a tad afeared of them.

You Can't Get Away From Me

The oldies are in Texas and she has called me three times in 36 hours. Each conversation begins with a giggle and, "You can't get away from me."

Thankfully, she sounds strong and lucid so she must be recovered from traveling.

This morning's call was about some bills and paperwork that need addressed. I can handle it. I asked her about the gash on her arm. She forgot to have her son look at it. Gangrene has probably set in. I made her promise to have it examined.

Also, she can't find the charger for the new cell phone. I told her exactly where I put it. It's in the big carry-on bag that I stuck stickers all over with the words "CARRY ON." She will look again but she's not convinced it's there. Later, I will call my sister-in-law and tell her where to look.

The mother-in-law is right. Out of sight, out of mind is not a remote possibility.

In Good Company

Up, up and away! With my ever so subtle style, I practically shoved the oldies out the door yesterday. Now, I was kind for a while. I woke them to make sure they had plenty of time for bathing and final packing. I fried up a big ol' country breakfast. At one point, I was printing out their boarding passes and she came into my office and announced, "I don't think we can go." Super sensitive Sheri said, "Too late!"

I went through every single suitcase and coordinated the last minute packing. I clipped IDs to the appropriate documents and stuck a copy of the itinerary (IN HUGE TYPE) everywhere I could think to stick it. Well, not everywhere.

She read in the newspaper that everything has to be in plastic bags. I tried to explain that they are only talking about liquids in your carry-on. She gave me the look and then proceeded to wrap every single item in plastic bags.

About two hours before they were due to leave, she showed me a gaping gash on her arm. Any other day, I would've been speed dialing the doctor. Nope, I slapped some antibiotic ointment on it, patched it up and said, "Your son and his wife are medical people -- make sure they look at this when you get there."

I am in good company. I'm trying to think of one person I know (over a certain age,) who hasn't endured a version of this situation or isn't living with it right now. Complete strangers (friend of a friend of a friend) come up to me and tell me what's going on with their oldies. Girlfriends who used to discuss fashion and children now discuss falls/gashes/mental illness.

So, I had the last bag ready to close and I asked if there was anything else that needed to go. Hangdog said, "Could you fit in there?"

They got to Texas and I guess they were in quite a daze. (They're better today.) But, as predicted, I'm pretty sure the son in Texas (and family) was not prepared.

I am not making this up. They were confused and kept saying, "Sheri will fix it."

Hey, he finally remembers my name.

Millions of people are in the same boat. We'll sink or swim.

Packing

My aunt, the most talented writer I know personally, is leaving on a three week journey with 10 stops. Weather will range from 80 degrees to below freezing. She is taking one small carry-on bag.

The oldies are packing for nine days in one location. (If they go.) One large suitcase is dedicated entirely to medications, mostly unnecessary. We have hauled three additional big suitcases up from the basement and she's fretting that they won't be able to fit everything in. Plus, canes and at least one walker. Guess who gets to coordinate all of this with the airlines.

I can pack for almost any destination in about 10 minutes. I cannot do it all in one carry-on bag. Neither could the husband -- his golf clubs don't fit in the overhead compartment. But, if I ever get to the point where an entire suitcase is needed to tote medicine, I'm staying home.

Travel Agent

I am not a travel agent but if I have to get a real job, I think I may have the qualifications.

Booking a trip for myself is easy. Coordinate with travel mates, get on the computer and book it. Print out the itinerary and on the day before leaving, print out the boarding pass. The most complicated part is heaving my suitcase on the scale to make sure I won't be charged for it being too heavy.

I am the travel agent for the oldies.

One of the husband's brothers has invited them to Texas during the Christmas holiday. (Time out for my happy dance!) She wrote the dates on a slip of paper and gave it to me. There was finagling that needed to be done because their arrival time has to somewhat coincide with their grandsons arrival times. And, they all need to leave at roughly the same time so only one airport trip is necessary. Plus, it has to be as cheap as possible.

Okay, doable.

I researched it and was quite proud of myself that I met all of the criteria. I emailed my brother-in-law with the schedule. I called the airline to go over in extreme detail the kind of special services they will require. I gave her a copy and of course, kept one for myself.

Guess what? She wrote down the wrong dates.

I spent several hours trying to unravel the booked trip without them incurring $200 worth of fees. Once I got that accomplished, I started over from square one but the flights are filling up and the pickings are getting slim. I had the phone at my ear while I sat at the computer.

A massive headache came to visit. She poked her head in my office and said, "Don't forget to rent a car. The boys (her grandchildren) will meet us and drive us. (Neither boy is 25 yet so they can't rent a car.) At this point, a rental car was the least of my worries.

So, it's booked. The rental car is reserved. New itineraries are in the hands of all interested parties. When I handed her the revised schedule, she actually said, "I hope we feel up to traveling. We might not go."

In that case, I will spend Christmas at the nearest mental health facility. I hope the daughter, the baby, the dog, my parents, my friends and the husband will visit me. Or, I might throw my bullet at someone.

So Alive with Children

When the oldies went on their trip to Mississippi, they stopped in Nashville, TN to visit their youngest son and his family. A quick visit turned into a few days. They stopped again on their way back here.

I will be the first to admit that this is an impressive family. They have five (FIVE!) talented and incredibly well-mannered children. I enjoy being around them. I'm sort of in awe of the way they make it seem easy.

I'm flashing back to Thanksgiving of 1991. We invited the family for the long weekend. The oldies came from Mississippi. This brother and his wife arrived with two toddlers and a newborn. (The baby in our house was a toddler too.) The daughter was in that teenage mood that could go from laughter to crankiness in a nanosecond. There were other family members in and out but here's what truly sticks out in my mind from that visit:

A truly God-awful rum cake (provided by the mother-in-law) that the daughter and I took turns cutting, wadding up and finding unique ways to dispose of it. All the while, making faces behind each other's back when one of us was forced to take a bite.

My sister-in-law, nursing a newborn and keeping tabs on the toddlers. Every once in a while, things would start to get rowdy. She would say (in that sweet, gentle southern way,) "You boys play sweet now." And, THEY DID.

We've moved forward a few years now. The other day, I sat eating my lunch while the mother-in-law whipped up the Unabomber's breakfast. Out of the blue, he said, "It was nice in Nashville -- their house is so alive with children."

He meant no offense but it still stung a bit. Yes, the children associated with this house have grown and moved on to new stages in their lives. Isn't that what they're supposed to do?

I kept my mouth shut but I wanted to say, "I know they're an amazing family. Why don't you go live with them?"

You Have No Right

I'm pretty laid back about most things. Every once in a while, something will cause my hackles to rise. Here's my latest list:

You Have No Right:

To touch me in a way that might be uncomfortable for me, unless you are a VERY good friend or I've taken vows with you. (I've been thrown around and dragged under tables.)

To make fun of my husband or family, unless you love them almost as much as I do. (Then it's okay.)

To take advantage of my hospitality while making comments about my housekeeping.

To think your politics supersede mine. (But, I love the conversation.)

I hereby give permission to everyone in my world to:

Correct my grammar and punctuation.

Tell me my dog is obnoxious.

Kiss me hello and goodbye. Hug me repeatedly.

Kindly tell me when I'm REALLY screwing something up.

Tell me kindred spirit stories when I'm flipping out.

Plan a trip and invite me.

One caveat. If I love you, all the rules go flying out the window. You can do whatever you want. And, you have every right to do so.

The Mood Lifter

It is guaranteed that life will throw curves. Some days can be absolutely crummy. Little bumps can be cured by a belly laugh, a good meal, or a bubble bath. Some people lift their spirits by shopping. Some men I know (no need to mention names) can distract themselves by playing golf or playing cards.

When the bumps get bumpier, I like to have other options. Something to look forward to -- something to make me smile. When we were young, Jan used to make fun of me because I would buy a new item of clothing and let it hang it the closet. I liked knowing I had something to look forward to. I liked seeing the tags that told me it was a virgin item. Her daughter is trapped in the same disease.

That's probably why I enjoy the build-up to Christmas (or almost any holiday) more than the actual holiday. I thrive on the anticipation.

I LOVE to travel. I like to peruse my calendar to contemplate upcoming trips. The anticipation is fabulous and usually (except for that one disastrous Florida girlfriend trip) the trips are wonderful.

Things are a little crazy around here. Lots of decisions being made and I'm trying to stay out of the way. The girlfriends are planning our annual trip to Phoenix. Cross check and call forward. I'm booked.

Traveling Times

I'm starting to get a little worried about the oldies. I seem to have to have something to fret about.

They're on their trip and they check in every few days or so ... mainly so I can take care of mail or hear updates on the relatives. The tide has turned. Now, it's usually me calling her.

The other day I called her cell phone and I got the father-in-law. At some point in the conversation he mentioned the beautiful properties they've seen. Well, this sent my brain into overload.

He can't see (although he fakes it very well.)
Are these relatives' and friends' properties or are they scoping out properties to purchase?

They're 84-years old. They certainly don't need our permission to decide the next stage in their lives. Maybe I've misinterpreted the entire conversation. When I mentioned it to the husband, he said, "Let it go -- we'll be dealing with it soon enough."

This is probably much ado about nothing but at what point do you say, "No!" At what point do you take the car keys away? (We're nowhere close to that.) At what point do the decisions change hands? A power-of-attorney isn't enough when you all live under one roof.

At what point do you just let the guilt wash over you?

The husband has a trip next week and I am freakishly excited at the prospect of some time alone.

But, I'm guessing I'll get two hours and then the oldies will roll in.

They're Off!

The oldies have actually left on their trip. I sort of kicked them out the door with my constant comments, "What can I do to help you pack?" "Do you need me to load the car?" I had a little meltdown on Saturday when she showed up with grocery bags. Yes, I did say, "I thought you were leaving on your trip. Why do we need all these groceries?"

**WARNING** They are in Nashville, TN at the moment and headed for Mississippi in the next couple of days. When she told me they were leaving on Sunday and would not make Mississippi until Wednesday (at the earliest,) I figured they're going via Canada. But, I kept my mouth shut.

The first two hours of their trip involved returning home twice. Once, she thought she had forgotten her cell phone but it was in her purse the entire time. The second time, she had forgotten her cash. Maybe they stash it under the mattress. If she has her handbag, how can she not have the cash?

Big Daddy did the happy dance. Then we made a bet. I know she has many people to see and plans to visit and gallivant for at least two weeks, maybe three. He thinks the Unabomber will berate her repeatedly to come home and be comfortable in his own bed. He's probably right but I'm hoping not.

The only thing that will keep him away is the fact that he hates the dog. If she even walks by him, he says, "Go away dog!" (I once tried to teach him her name but it took him a couple of years to remember my name so I've given up on that.)

When I was loading their car yesterday, I said, "By the way, I'm sending Gabby with you for protection." The mother-in-law thought this was very funny. He didn't get it.

They've been gone less than 24 hours and I'm hearing phantom sounds. I sit in my office and think I hear them coming down the hallway. I woke up last night and thought I heard them in the kitchen. About the time I get used to Big Daddy and I having the house to ourselves, they will return.

Even though I gripe all the time, I'll probably welcome them with open arms. And, I'll probably owe Big Daddy $5.

He Travels Too Much

Recently, a girlfriend told me a story about one of her friend's child. They called off a wedding at the 11th hour. I don't know these people but the excuse was that the bride decided the groom's job was too demanding and he traveled too much.

What?!!!!

The husband used to travel a couple of times a month for his job. Although I missed him, I also looked forward to his trips. I like private time. He doesn't travel nearly as much as he used to and that has thrown my life some new curves.

I can't speak for all women but here are some of the things I like to do when the husband travels:


When the baby was little, we would choose movies, take our baths and don pjs. Then we would crawl into bed with a big bowl of popcorn and have a moviefest. Later, we'd make milkshakes.

Slathering deep conditioner on my hair and wrapping it in a plastic shower cap so it can really soak in. (The one time the husband witnessed this ritual, he followed me around saying, "Do you want fries with that?")

Waxing things. Enough said.

Ordering a pizza with only my toppings of choice. Or, choosing shrimp dip and chips as dinner.


The husband left this morning for a golf trip. I did my happy dance. The baby is off at college so our movie night is no longer available. Complete solitude is not at option since the oldies live here too. Still, I might order a pizza, deep condition my hair and see what's on Lifetime.

I hope this bride-to-be had a lot of other issues with her husband-to-be. If it was just his travel schedule, I'm perplexed.