Bfth's Boring Blog

  I call him "the school greeter" I t finally happened yesterday.  We took our son to college for his freshman year.  How did we get here?  I think I'll be asking myself that question for a LONG time.   The day was long and exhausting; both physically and emotionally.  I haven't cried yet, but then again, I haven't really cried over the deaths of my parents either.  I'm seriously repressed?  Or maybe, using my word of the year, I'm overwhelmed and just haven't gotten there yet. Everything got really crazy the day BEFORE move it.  All of us had packed up my son's things and stored them in our sun parlor.  Wednesday was the day for organizing and labelling.  While I would have liked to have been home for that, I was in the office for some meetings, but thankfully was able to leave earlier than usual.  (Which meant a slow local bus, but...)  In between packing up the car (which my husband did an excellent job of...and in all honesty, my son didn't

  Dear Mom & Dad, It's a beautiful Sunday morning.  So perfect that I headed up to St. Simon for the early morning service.  It is such a  beautiful little church; fitting into the landscape like no other could.  I went since one of your favorite (my favorite) pastors was in the pulpit and because it seemed like the right thing to do.  Furthermore,  I had a dream that I took both of you there today.  (Sort of...you know how dreams are...never quite right.)   This has been the sort of weekend that you would want.  One that borders on (dare I say it?) perfect. All three of us came down, along  with your grandson's girlfriend, on Friday night.  An exhausting day as it was your grandson's last day of summer work (and it was crazy) and we had to stop at ShopRite to pick up a few things for the weekend that I couldn't have gotten earlier in the day.   We were all pretty tired when we arrived. Although it wasn't too hot Friday night (or last night for that matter), w

If you asked ANYONE who lived in my town (past or present) or ANYONE who had ever visited my church, to use one word to describe/explain/get to the heart of it, that word would be simply:  Andy.  No question in my mind that Andy would be the first (and possibly only) thing that would come to people's minds when they think of the First Presbyterian Church. Why would they think of Andy?  Well, he has been working at the church for 60 years.  (No, that's not a typo.)  He is a wealth of information; he knows EVERYTHING.  And to me (and I'm sure hundreds, if not more) is the heart and soul of the church.  No, let me change that he IS the church.  He is the essence of  (true) Christianity.   If you don't know Andy, you might think that he is the church minister.  You would be wrong. Maybe he is the director of music or the head of Christian Education?  No.  He is the church sexton. (Google it if you don't know.) He is a humble servant. (Now who else could that refer t

  Note:  While not "required" reading, it might help to read  this  for context first.  If you read this post (titled "Please Don't Ask Me") you can probably already guess where this is going... So it's been about a month and half since my father died.  Which means it's been about a year and one month since my mom died.  As their only living child, it's a lot to process.  To be honest, I haven't really grieved for the loss of either of them.  Though it's probably not healthy, I've kept a lot tucked away.  Why?  I just haven't had the time.  (That's a lousy excuse I know.)  There just always seems to be so much to do; work, my son, etc.  Someday it's all going to catch up with me.  Most likely at the most inconvenient time. (When is grief ever convenient?) During this past month and a half, I've been cleaning the shore home.  I've been spending as much time here as I possibly can.  After all, it IS summer.  (Although I

You are probably tired of reading about my BoA posts.  I am tired of writing them.   I am exhausting having spend countless hours trying to navigate their process. I am sick (I mean really SICK to my stomach) and tired of dealing with BoA .  If I have a mental breakdown it will NOT be because of my job (which is stressful) or because of family issues (like dealing with the deaths of 2 parents within a year while my teenage son finishes high school and goes on to college) it will be because of BoA and all the complications in dealing with my parents estates.  Let me be completely clear, BoA has done nothing LEGALLY wrong, but they have made this process difficult and challenging all during a time when they are well aware that customers are in a highly emotional state. I've written numerous posts about my experiences with BoA ; too many to put all the links here.  If you want to read through the complete mess, just search for Bank of America on this blog's main page and you'l

  Hopefully this will be the LAST post I will write about BoA .  If you are reading this you must be tired of it and I know that I am tired of dealing with it.  If you have no idea what I am talking about, you should go back and search for posts that mention BoA to understand why I am so upset and frustrated.  (I have good reason) I was told on 8/9 at 8:04 that I would hear back from a representative within 24 hours. (This was all done via Twitter/X messaging because that seems to be the ONLY way you can get a response from BoA )  Most of 8/10 went by with nothing.  I blogged with #bankofamerica.  NOTHING.  Then I decided to message the person who said I would hear within 24 hours at 7:04 pm...lettering "peggy" know that there was one hour left in the promised 24 hour turn around. Amazingly at 7:44 I get a call from "peggy" who connected me with someone in their center who supposedly could help me.  (Forgive me...I've forgotten this woman's name...but she ha

 Guess what?  I'm back to writing about  BoA .  It's not because they provide such stellar service.  They don't.  (However, I will say that the Mr. Robinson, a manager at the branch where my parents did their banking was exceedingly courteous and helpful.  He seems to be the exception to the rule.  Or maybe it's just that he hasn't been "corporatized.)  It's because the provide such wonderful fodder for my writings...just not in a positive way. It's actually kind of sad that over the past year or so, that I've been compelled to blog my frustrations with BoA at least five times!  What does that say about the corporation?  Nothing good! Yesterday I blogged about how I was waiting.  Not just waiting for BoA , but for  Venerable  (I emailed them the appropriate forms on Monday, you'd think I'd at least get a confirmation that they had received, but),  Putman  and others.  In the midst of a busy life (you know working full time and getting ready

My dad died 40 days ago.  In those forty days, I have: Arranged a burial and memorial service at the cemetery and then hosted a small repast at my home following.   Written an obituary and three memorials. Spoken at the memorial service at the cemetery as well as a memorial service 21 days later at  church Sent a donation to a local charity in my family's name for a good friend of my father's who died less than a week after him. Picked up the official death certificates (which were just amended on Monday because apparently the town is not good enough since it is part of a larger township?) Attended an annual (although I don't know how much longer it will continue) regatta that has been renamed in honor of both my parents (they were both big proponents of sailing on Barnegat Bay) Arranged for my father's name to go on the family stone at the cemetery.  (And paid for half of it, althoug

   As a child my parents (and grandparents) instilled in me a strong sense of financial responsibility.  That also meant fiscal responsibility.  I was trained NOT to touch your principal.  (It was assumed that you had a savings account.)  Or at least try not to touch your savings unless absolutely necessary.  There were family owned stocks that were NEVER to be sold.  You paid your bills off every month.  If you couldn't afford it, you didn't buy it.  All of this was drilled into me and I took it very seriously. I have tried to instill similar tenets into my son.  I THINK I've succeeded somewhat.  But let's face it, the rules of the game have changed since my grandparents and parents time.  However being responsible when it comes to finances is something that should never change. In their last months of life, I was taking care of both of my parents' finances.  In 2022, bills came in for my mother and I made sure they were paid in a timely manner.  When she died and

  Back in 1997 I bought a pair of navy shorts at Walt Disney World.  (I know I bought them in the Magic Kingdom, and I'm pretty sure that they came from the Emporium.)  They are extra-large because I was extra large back then.  (Thankfully now I'm a large or maybe a medium if I'm lucky.)  They still fit (even if they are a bit large) because the waist is elastic and there is a tie in the front.  (They are so old, that part of the string broke off, but that's okay because I no longer need that much string!) Several years later (somewhere between 1999 and 2003) my local Kmart (which, of course is no more) had a bunch of Disney women's sleeveless shirts on sale.  I bought a bright pink button down with Minnie on it which I no longer have.  I also bought a white one with a zipper and Tigger in a grass hula skirt on the left side.  That one I still have. So these are pretty old clothes.  I still wear them.  I USED to wear them regularly.  (They are pretty comfortable