Bfth's Boring Blog

It's the last day of the month; I'm not sure how we got here.  And just like last Saturday when we visited my son, it's overcast and/or raining.  Seems like Ophelia won't go away; it's either remnants or something else...I'm not sure.  All I AM sure of is that I'm tired of the wet and damp.  Yes, rain is important and we need it, but not all week!  (Okay, Wednesday was a "good" day, but it was ONE DAY out of the week, and of course a day that I was locked up in an office all day.  The joy of remote working was that when the days were sunny and/or warm, I could sit out on my patio and work.  I CAN still do that, but only 2 days a week and the weather seems to rarely cooperate with me.)   Complaining about the weather won't change it, but I'm doing it anyway.  This was the week that my cousin came to visit.  She hadn't been to the east coast in 9 years and I had hoped that the one day I took off to spend time with her would be a good one.

  Autumn arrived officially yesterday.  I should be happy about that since this summer has completely and uttered sucked A**.  Which is really disappointing because the end of summer/early fall is my favorite time of year.  (I think of it as my own unique season:  Sumtumn.)  Summer 2023 has officially been the worst:  my father died, a good friend of his died (which I found out when I wanted to contact him about my father's passing), my cousin's wife died (who admired and adored), my aunt (by marriage) died and a neighbor/family friend died.  Five deaths in one season is way too much, even if I am entering "old age."  (It pains me to say that, but it's true and ageism has become a real thing in not just my work life, but in general life.)  Top this off with a bacterial/fungal infection in an "uncomfortable" place (would there be such a thing as a comfortable place for an infection?), which is SLOWLY starting to abate after a month and a half of a variety

  While writing part 1, I realized a couple of things: I've been to more concerts than I realized. I tend to gravitate more towards smaller (and VERY small) venues. I have always been a "part of the action" person, which is why I like smaller venues.  Unfortunately that's not something you can do with "big" names like Paul McCartney, Billy Joel and Elton John.  (All of whom I've seen at Giant Stadium.)  They were great shows, but I like the personal touch.  And the smaller venues are the only way to go about that. I mean the first time I saw Michael Nesmith (at the defunct Lone Star Roadhouse in NYC); I was practically sitting in the lap of keyboardist John Hobbs.  I LIKED that.   Smaller venues, such as The Ridgefield Playhouse (CT), Mayo Performing Arts Center (NJ), Count Basie Theater (NJ) and Tarrytown Music Hall (NY) are (somewhat) affordable and I've been lucky enough to be able to purchase tickets close to the stage so I c

Just recently, the Eagles played a concert at a venue not too far from my office.  When we were married, our first dance was to the Eagles' song, "Love Will Keep Us Alive."  You'd think we might have gone (or tried to go) to this concert, which was part of their "Long Goodbye" tour, but we didn't.  I'm NOT sorry we didn't go.  I AM sorry we didn't go around the time we got married.  Back in the days when Glenn Fry was alive, this would have really meant something to us.  But what is past is past and I can't change that.  (As a side note, I also regret that I didn't go see Kiss when they toured in the 1990s, which would have been an opportunity to see the "original" line up.  Kiss is still touring, but the group I want [wanted to] see is the four original members. Sorry Tommy Thayer and Eric Singer.) This got me thinking about the concerts I HAVE gone to, or at least the memorable ones.  If I were to consider myself a music f

 After Superstorm Sandy back in October 2012, my mother had to pretty much rebuild/overhaul the house at the shore. Just about all the furniture needed to be replaced.  And by May 2013 most of it had.  New tables, chairs, bureaus etc. The replacement furniture in the master bedroom consists of a white Broyhill bureau and night table. On the night table was a lamp and a (cordless) phone.  Both were plugged into an outlet on a nearby wall. When my mother died, I cleaned out most of the items in the night table drawers.  I unplugged the phone and put it in one. When I stayed overnight when my dad was alive, it was the bedroom that I slept in and I put my stuff on the table when I went to bed.  One problem I had was that the cord for my phone charger was too short to reach the table, so I would end up with my phone sitting on the floor charging overnight.  (Nothing wrong with that right?) With my dad's passing, my husband and I have been coming down regularly, not just to clean out the

 Today is one of those strange days.  It's not hot, but it IS sticky.  It's rainy and then the sun is out.  And 27 years ago, it was pretty much the same. As I write this I am sitting in the living room at the shore; the same place I was 27 years ago.  Today, I'm not too worried about the weather.  Back then I was.  I had been promised, by my always magical and optimistical Uncle Harold that the sun would come out.  He was right.  Uncle Harold was always right.  (At least that's how I saw it.)  By the later afternoon the sun was shining. (At least here...I understand in North Jersey was a rain soaked mess for a LONG time.) I'm not so sure about that happening today.  There are lots of omnious clouds, but there are also patches of blue, so who knows.  (I'm just glad that Hurricane Lee is going to miss us.) I wanted to be here, at the shore, on our 27th anniversary today.  For the first time in a LONG time, not being constrained by the public school system, I was

 My son has been away at college for nearly 3 weeks now.  We are empty nesters.  It's not something I like (or looked forward to), but it's not something I dislike either.  It's different.  It's strange.  It's life. There are some things in our household and daily life that are very different now: There is less laundry in the hamper; I do fewer loads.  You wouldn't think one person would make that much of a difference, but...Even though half the time when I would do the laundry he'd leave his dirty clothes in his room (and then I'd end up doing another load), the hamper seemed to be constantly full.  I'm down to two load a week?! I can do towels and sheets as one load instead of two.  I keep looking in the hamper because I think I need to do a load and I don't! (Of course then I wonder if my kid is doing laundry at college.  He'd done laundry right?  It's been almost three weeks and I pro

 The day has come around again, as it does every year.  It was so long ago; over two decades IS a long time.  Yet it is close as yesterday.  A surreal nightmare that was real.  A perfectly beautiful day full of shineshine and blue sky; and then the world was gray. What will we do today?  Will we stop to remember?  Will we pause to reflect? Will we, as we HAD to do that day, serve our fellow man?  Or we dishonor the fallen with hatred? Twenty two years ago there was no time to ponder.  Action was the only option.  And so we acted.  We did not stop to debate, question or argue.  We did what needed to be done; we did what we could do.  We acted in UNITY.  We acted not for ourselves alone, but for humanity. Twenty two years later, we have time.  We have time to remember, to reflect to serve.  We have choice as to what to do. So what will you choose today?  Will you honor the 2,977? Or will this be another day?

  Because I don't have anything else to say (or anything coherent) and because I can, here comes my whiny list of first world problems (that aren't really problems at all if you look at the big picture, but if I looked at the big picture than this wouldn't be a first world problem).  Maybe you can relate to some of these and if you do and you want to ping me with your own rant or possible solution, feel free to.  If not, read on and perhaps laugh at the trivialness (is that a word?) of what irks and irritates me. Without further ado: I don't like that it's 90+ degrees after Labor Day.  I like warm weather.  Sometimes I even like hot weather but having the first heat wave of the summer (and I realize that it IS still summer) after Labor Day is just wrong.  I don't like waking up and finding it's already 85+ degrees in my bathroom.  I don't like the sweat that forms in irritating places (that I won't mention) and mak

To all those who made this day possible, thank you.  As Google pointed out to me today: "Today’s Doodle honors employees in the United States and Canada and those who fought and those that continue to advocate for better working conditions. In early September of 1882, the first commemoration of Labor Day took place in the form of a sprawling parade in New York City "In the 19th century, trade and labor unions rallied and organized strikes to push for employment standards that often get overlooked today: 40-hour work weeks, paid time off, safety, and sick leave. Union leaders began advocating for a holiday that appreciates working people and the difference they make in the world. The Central Labor Union adopted a proposal for the celebration and began organizing the first NYC parade.  "Oregon became the first to declare it a legal holiday in 1887. Several followed suit by the end of the year, but it wouldn’t become a federal holiday in the U.S. and Canada until 1894."

The Bananarama song has been echoing around my brain recently: It's a cruel (Cruel), cruel summer Leaving me here on my own. It's a cruel (It's a cruel), cruel summer. Now you're gone"  This summer HAS been particularly cruel.  Wildfires, hurricanes and blazing temperatures:  that's cruel.  But that's not what I'm talking about. You might think I was talking about my dad's death.  His passing, which was expected, was particularly cruel as was my mother's last summer.  They both suffered with illness for months, which was awful to watch and exhausting for all involved.  However, that's only part of what made this summer so cruel. I spoke to a co-worker/friend who I had not talked to in months earlier this week.  She had gone through an awful health scare earlier in the month and is still recovering from surgery she had in June.  As she told me about the trauma she had gone through, I felt guilt at not reaching out to her sooner. What this inc