tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49071576882235666052024-03-05T23:06:46.353-08:00Lori C. AronsohnLori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-73727792424704101612017-09-18T04:18:00.000-07:002017-09-18T04:18:55.269-07:00SEPTEMBER TRAVELS 2017 - Part 2ust leaving Turin by train and boy is my head tired! My legs, not so much …although we walked and walked and walked. Averaging 7.5 miles per day. I spent 3 wonderful nights and days with the infamous novelist Louisa Klein, a woman who I have edited for, but had never met.<br />
<br />
Louisa is the daughter of two academics, who speaks 4 languages fluently and is a font of information, which means that her answer to any question comes in the form of a chapters as opposed to a sentence, often with footnotes and graphics. It has been great fun, although a wee bit intense for someone who appreciates her alone time very much. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Her flat in Turin is fantastic, on the second floor with very tall ceilings, a very old building, I’ve forgotten how old, but tall, tall windows, a gorgeous entry, with Art Deco Windows, marble steps and a teeny weeny elevator, that barely fits 2 slim people and a suitcase. Yes, there is a bidet in the bathroom, which was quite intimidating, so I avoided eye contact with it as best I could. And, a heated towel rack which, well, I still haven’t a clue how to turn those things on. Louisa had outfitted the place with brand new towels and sheets just for me. The sheets featured darling orange foxes all across it. Loved them, they were so soft. The walls were beautiful prints from children’s books and historical pieces.<br />
<br />
I’ve learned that as a guest of someone in Italy, one is not allowed to pay for anything, and it was quite disconcerting for an American who is perfectly well accustomed to paying her own way. Louisa paid for everything!!!! From the delicious foods and wines and chocolates at her flat, to every single juice, coffee latte dopo, to vegetarian lunch. And, let’s not forget, my first ever Gelato. Oh heaven. The poor thing must be positively broke now!<br />
<br />
We talked of our lives, our educations, our family, friends and animals. We spoke of philosophy, writing, story structure, books, films, and, of course, after a little wine, we spoke of love lives. This has been an experience that I feel so fortunate to have had. Thank you Louisa. We saw museums, shopping both posh and common, and the River Po where, as gawd is my witness, as we were regarding a young couple feeding each other potato chips – crisps – from mouth to mouth, the Loch Ness Monster rose up from the depths of the cool water,snatched the bag of chips from the loving couple before slipping back under and heading upstream to Scotland. Would I lie?<br />
<br />
Italy is a very dog-loving country, and I saw little sweet things everywhere including on the trains. I was particularly amused to see a jack Russell perched on the escalator, front set of paws one step above the next, looking like a little man of the world.<br />
<br />Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-81281770752195654032017-09-15T10:36:00.003-07:002017-09-15T10:36:33.983-07:00SEPTEMBER TRAVELS 2017PART ONE<br />
<br />
The flight to London was very nice indeed, and the British Airways flight attendants were all so very solicitous and kind. I enjoyed the film “Get Out” on the plane, a film that I’d been hoping to see. Once it was over, I snuggled up in my British Airways pajamas, under my British Airways duvet and fell asleep. Sadly. It was a bumpy flight. Much turbulence. Nevertheless, my generous glasses of wine helped me to have a complete night of slumber.<br />
<br />
September 11, 2017<br />
We will not speak of my vomititious morning in my 1st class suite…brand new aircraft…two hurl-a-thon moments. Shawl and bra soaking in my hotel sink now.<br />
<br />
I love my darling room, but am sad that the hotel does not provide ice. I do so like my beverages icy cold. Interesting technical advance here: one must deposit one’s room card into the slot on the wall near the door for the lights to stay on. Genius. I was soon to learn that this is the thing in hotels now. It’s quite energy efficient since when you take your key card to go out, the lights all go off.<br />
<br />
September 12, 2017<br />
Woke around 3:00 and was so excited about the coming day that I had trouble getting back to sleep.<br />
It was so dark out, and I couldn’t figure out what was making the sparkling light show across the street. I got up to examine, it was raining ever so softly, and the enchanting light show was actually insects flitting beneath the street light. So pretty. I finished watching a wonderful movie that you can stream on Netflix “Moonlight Sunrise”… 5 stars in my book, and soon dropped off for a little more sleep.<br />
<br />
Wednesday, I think, Wednesday, September 13?<br />
I awoke early, really early, so excited to get on trains today. It was dark, and there I was actually dressed and at the Zurich train station with other people. And, those people were actually dressed, carrying baggage and moving about, grabbing coffee and pastries and behaving as if they knew what they were doing. It was fascinating.<br />
<br />
I inquired at the Information kiosk about which platform I could find my train. He told me with great assurance that my train to Chur would be leaving from platform 8 at 7:28. Well, not wanting to disagree with the perfunctory gentleman, but, I replied, my train was to leave at something like 7:05. So that I could make my connection. He glanced at my ticket, and announced that I was wrong, my train would be leaving at 7:07! Platform5. The Swiss. So precise.<br />
<br />
Since I had a few moments before the arrival of my train, I grabbed a Koffee latte and managed to drink it without spilling it all over my snowy white shirt. I gave myself a medal for achieving this small feat.<br />
<br />
I was not quite sure which car I was supposed to be in, there were no seat assignments, but there were two classes. So, I did what any grandma with a big red suitcase and a desire to get going would do, I chose a random seat and made myself at home. Several people had warned me to keep my luggage with me, so I did, standing it upright before me, my colorful carry on bag strapped securely to it with a special bungee contraption shipped to me directly from China. It was a lovely seat. The train started off oh so smoothly, and I was quite content.<br />
<br />
Half an hour of pleasant forward motion a delightful Swiss gentleman checked my e-ticket and was sad to tell me that I’d paid for 2nd class passage. Why be sad? I had a credit card. I happily handed it over to pay $30 more so that I could remain seated.Alas, trouble. His little handheld credit card reader wouldn’t accept it. Was it the battery? He consulted with a colleague who assured me that he would take care of it. Still, trouble, trouble, trouble. We tried another card..no. Still not working. In my head, I naively thought that perhaps they’d just forget about that additional payment and allow me to relax gratis. No, not the Swiss. There are rules to be followed, timetables to be consulted. I admire and respect that. At last the machine went beep! And I signed my name to the receipt. Quite soon after we arrived in Chur which allowed me a maximum 10 minutes to disembark and find my scenic train through the Bernina pass, a UNESCO World Heritage moving site.<br />
<br />
Another platform, more confusion. I inquired of an attendant which train I should board. I gave him the information as I understood it. He took a look at my ticket, looked down his nose at me and stated that I was traveling 2nd class., car 4 , seat 36, and pointed to the door. I can follow direction, when I have a mind to, so I pulled myself and my suitcase up the stairs and regarded the illuminated board which said I was on car 2, so I dragged my bag from train to train, through car 3, toward car 4, but before I came to 4, I was abruptly halted by preparations being made in the refreshment car . I am told that, no, I may not go through. I will need to disembark, and get on on again to the other side. You recall, time is of the essence. The Swiss keep to the timetable. I try the door to exit. It won’t let me out. I go back to the 2 gentlemen, and using a combination of English words and hand and arm signals used to explain things to a small child, I try to convey that I am stuck. Thankfully, the Italian porter took pity on me. He trundled behind me to the door, which was now open. Did I forget to say ‘open sesame’?<br />
<br />
I love to travel. I really do. The kindness of strangers when you quite need it.<br />
<br />
I found my seat next to a window, closed in tightly by a threesome of Swiss people, all about my age and striking me as being upper class. They were on holiday too, and showed me the space between the seats where I could tuck my suitcase. They were truly enjoying traveling together, a husband and wife, and a woman who may have been a sister, or just a dear friend. They had so much to say to one another that they often talked at the same time, and soon forgot I was even there.<br />
<br />
If you have the opportunity, you must take this glorious ride in a train with Windows from table to up and over your head. Traveling up to the snowy mountains, past St. Moritz, through tunnels, over bridges 300 feet up over the Albula river. Then. Traveling switchbacks down affording you views of an idyllic Swiss village surrounded by green meadows and noble mountains. Just right out of a picture book. I wanted to move right in. We dropped down toward Italy via a circular viaduct. – imagine a very slow roller coaster.<br />
<br />
At significant points throughout the ride, the melodic voice of a narrator came on the speaker and explained in German what we were seeing, following that, a voice gave information in English. Yet, my fellow passengers, the lovely threesome all spoke at once in their Swiss German over the information imparted to me in English. In their very loud voices. So, yes, I could hear none of the information spoken in English. Sigh. I had the Bernina Express guide, so I made use of that to assuage my own curiousity.<br />
<br />
I was overjoyed to arrive at the Torino station. My entrance into Italy demonstrated a different style than that of the Swiss. Passengers asked the attendants if they wanted to see their passports, at which the attendants laughed and pointed toward the exit.<br />
<br />
Walking into Italy and toward the Italian train station, I looked longingly at those enjoying a gelato. I’d never had gelato, but I didn’t have time. At the Italian tracks were no signs, no markings on the train, nothing. I gave up. It’s important to do that on vacation. To let go. I climbed aboard a waiting train and asked if it was the train to Milan. No one spoke English. But, they were quite friendly. But, no speaks de inglais. I found myself another seat, hoisted my bag to keep me company, and decided to throw caution to the wind…took a chance and took off for parts unknown, possibly Milan. On the ride I enjoyed stunning views of Lake Como through graffiti scratched, water stained Windows. Beautiful still. Views of the sparkling lake interspersed with total darkness inside tunnels, then being welcomed again by the sight of the Lake. Beautiful.<br />
<br />
When they announced the Milan station as ‘Centrale’, I was surprised that I had possibly arrived in Milan. One kind non-English speaking person seeing my worried face let me know that this was ‘last stop. I grabbed my bag and said to myself. “Here I come Italy!...I think.”<br />
<br />
TO BE CONTINUED…<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-54161424879561528282016-03-05T18:02:00.000-08:002016-03-05T18:02:19.876-08:00My New Listing
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">MLS# 17-666<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">999 Echoeylake Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90666<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">Tarzan & Jane Special!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">For the mountaineering couple who want to live a carbon neutral existence – but not always under the same roof. Mountainside views make you feel as though you’re living in a tree. Rickety wooden decks add drama to your days, giving you the opportunity to grab onto sides of the building and swing freely when worn areas underfoot give way to the sheer drop below. Two enticing living levels blocked off by a handy (though, most likely unlicensed) friend give buyers two separate living spaces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">One, on street level, is complete with bedroom, bathroom, minimalist kitchen, living room, laundry room with hookups for washer and dryer, but no actual washer and dryer, so there's room to install old-fashioned washtub and clothesline. A pet door thoughtfully installed years ago provides small neighborhood critters, desirous of spur of the moment shelter, immediate access. Cooking can be accomplished outdoors, where all cooking should be done -- on a sheet of aluminum foil with a pile of charcoal briquettes set out on the wooden deck by wandering inhabitants of nearby half-way house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">The separate below-level dwelling features bedroom, bath, laundry room and abundant fresh air, thanks to open windows that are free of anything that might block a nice breeze -- such as glass or intact screens. Verdant, indigenous plants freely crawl their way into this rustic space and up the walls negating any need for wallpaper or paint. This second, below-street-level dwelling is accessible by a fun and often exciting stairway devoid of any obstructive impediments like handrails. Careful of that last step! Front door landing features the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">infinity porch</i>® which grandly drops off to the garage roof two stories below. You’ll never be alone here as helpful rats come and go as they please to ensure the property is free of edible vermin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">Keeping to the carbon neutral design of the property, garage can only be accessed by rappelling from the main property, then fighting through thick underbrush to access the garage door which has been sealed by years of neglect and is fronted by a beautiful living curtain of local plant life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alternatively, a quarter-mile walk around the block and up a private alley speckled with impressively deep pot-holes will bring you to the tile roofed 2-car garage. This well-thought-out arrangement ensures that owners will opt for modes of transportation that don’t use fossil fuels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">Don’t wait, this property won’t last long as this is a probate listing with court confirmation required. It will soon be swooped up by some lucky buyer who will then get their day in court -- 35 to 45 days later -- where they will likely enjoy the thrill of fighting off competing buyers for the right to buy the keys to this jewel above Silver Lake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">Listed at $725,000, the price was logically and methodically determined by tallying up the debts and liens on the Estate of the deceased. No <i>Zestimate</i> needed here! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">Willing to entertain any and all offers over $500,000. All cash please and 10% down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Avenir Next";">When touring the property, please be sure to observe the many areas marked off by yellow caution tape. The markings are there for your protection, as well as for our own, as per our fussy insurance company and attorneys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-87184521672880302232016-02-04T07:26:00.004-08:002016-02-04T07:29:07.058-08:0057<br />
At age 57,<br />
you will realize<br />
you've passed through the midway point on the continuum<br />
of youthful years spent yearning and reaching for what you desire,<br />
and later years where one's focus<br />
is on gracefully letting go of mounting losses.<br />
Slowly.<br />
Haltingly.<br />
Tearfully.<br />
Releasing ones grasp.Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-76884948914358180612016-01-27T19:29:00.001-08:002016-01-27T19:39:07.377-08:00I'm baaaaaaaaaackkkk... and aching to write again.<br />
<br />
Or, is that ache actually the arthritis.<br />
<br />
Right hand arthritis. Bad for mornings. You expect that your right hand will be your right hand and behave like your right hand, and serve you like your right hand has tended to do all your life. Then, one morning, you watch as your right hand reaches for your mug of coffee for that delicious, delightful first morning sip, but it delays. The open motion and the grasping motion, are troubled. One might even stay that Right Hand has stumbled. Bother that!<br />
<br />
Bother the spilled coffee. Bother the ache.<br />
<br />
Wait, what's that? Left ankle? Now left ankle demands attention? What have I ever done to deserve this from left ankle? Fine. I am not going to be thoughtless. I shall wrap left ankle in warm, cozy sock so that we can saunter off into the misty morning for daily saunter.<br />
<br />
Sauntering, sauntering... Gloomy day, but there's beauty in it too. Singing birds, skittering squirrels. Pretty, promising day. Oh, here's that curb, no handicapped slope here. Lovely, I feel like jumping off it, like a child -- naturally looking both ways first. Or sprinting, skipping even, loving the day. Hey! Right knee. Please tell me what that was all about? You bout near dropped me to the pavement. Don't do that again, or I shall be keeping you indoors much more often.<br />
<br />
Huh. How old am I?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDsai8U0xADf4QUnmsIM072hSXOhJFU9MZtMd490T4A4zcrQT938KF7WFp4AgLrEI6RtI-3KkrNcN1ocw9LypdB_1viKzcv_wL66M_NQD2x2j8HsK9gnQ7sR3w8o7fqsAxe5A6CZIBpH5/s1600/IMG_3049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDsai8U0xADf4QUnmsIM072hSXOhJFU9MZtMd490T4A4zcrQT938KF7WFp4AgLrEI6RtI-3KkrNcN1ocw9LypdB_1viKzcv_wL66M_NQD2x2j8HsK9gnQ7sR3w8o7fqsAxe5A6CZIBpH5/s320/IMG_3049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-29309884640239858642012-10-29T08:14:00.001-07:002012-10-29T08:15:04.713-07:00I am all real estate, all the time. As if a personal life is such a great thing... I have my Hamish. I phone my children, sisters and parents between appointments, open houses and escrow closings. I have my herbal tea and New Yorker subscription to help me wind down before sleep. It's all good...Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-70504162106023683772012-08-07T08:22:00.003-07:002012-08-07T08:22:45.566-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A delightful way to search for real property in Southern California, don't you think?<br />Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-9699233292691055382012-07-22T08:42:00.001-07:002012-07-24T08:22:11.050-07:00Delayed Part III of our Ireland/UK Adventure<br />
<div class="Body1">
It's now
April 28, 2012 and this trip is just going so fast. And, we've just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">now</i>
found the most beautiful spot in the world!</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
When last
I wrote, we were on a train to Tralee where we were to pick up our rental car,
and then risk life and limb driving in Ireland where no credit card company
would insure us, driving on the wrong side of the exceedingly narrow
roads. I do believe that our
elder's prayers are what delayed us getting the car which was supposed to be
ready at 3:15, but which we didn't take possession of until 6:30 p.m. But, miracle of miracles we did manage
to make the one hour drive into Dingle before sunset. Cindy took the first shift driving on the wrong side of the
road, and she did pretty well, only nicking the left front tire seriously once
or twice. The man at the rental
car threw in a GPS for free to compensate us for the delay, and, oddly it
started to shriek halfway to Dingle "Blimey, woman, get into the center of the lane or you'll have us all
killed!<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">”</span></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
The
town, as we came upon it, was a
storybook vision of rolling hills, divided into a patchwork of grasses,
sectioned off by trees and stone walls ensuring that sheep and cows and horses
stayed where they were put. The
Bay of Dingle shimmering, the Ocean off in the distance. Just perfect. And, what was remarkable was how the many little homes
looked exactly like the houses and hotels from a Monopoly game, except they
were appropriately painted. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Our hotel
was wonderful, wonderful. A
civilized vision of an inn. I
don't know what we were supposed to take away from the fact that our in-room
desk was laid with a copy of Louisa M. Alcott's "Good Wives"...</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After
settling in to the room, we ambled along the bay and up a hill to a restaurant
that offered fresh local fare -- fish, fish, fish from the local working
dock. We were entertained
throughout our meal by a group of four older, Irish women who were seemingly
dignified when we arrived, but increasingly sauced as the meal continued. One offering up a round of Irish
Coffees, two vehemently declining...
Our meal was wonderful especially the flavourful warm breads and
butter. I had a duo John Dorry and
Red Mullet and a smear of garlic potatoes which was scrumptuous. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I don’t really remember much of the walk back to the inn, aside
from jack frost nipping at my nose.
We tumbled into bed as soon as we arrived (well, truth be told, we did
brush our teeth first, we’re not heathens, you know).</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After a
delightful night's rest, we followed our noses downstairs just as breakfast was
being served which included a buffet of so many lovely things -- cereals,
fruits, and a warm, fresh-from-the-oven bread and butter pudding. I was brave and when they took our
kitchen order I chose kippers and scrambled eggs. Kippers are a smoked fish. Bully for me.
When it arrived, the kippers laid out with twisted lemon slices and a
crown shaped offering of scrambled eggs, I carefully stuck in my fork, and by
golly, I can see where many people might find these kippers to be quite
good. One taste was enough for me.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Note to
all travelers, it would appear that in Scotland, the finer establishments warm
the milk they serve you for your coffee.
Not so in Ireland. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After a
nice stroll through the delightful town of Dingle,...woolen shops, dock full of
gorgeous fishing boats, linen shops, restaurants, local jewelry maker shops, we
packed our bags, weeping silently to be leaving this darling hotel and this
wonderful, magical town, to drive the Ring of Kerry. I took the wheel this time, and Cindy struggled to navigate
with a map laid out for us by the hotelier. On the drive, we continually marveled at the scenery, the
sheep, the cows, the horses, the green pastures, the blue, blue water. No, Papa, we weren't fighting. We never found our hiking destination,
and abandoned that plan at a golf course where the local golf pro directed us
to a path through the course, through the pastures and out to the soft sand
beach facing the roiling blue ocean.
So, so, so beautiful. I
took many wonderful photos (which I was unable to upload to the iPad
...dang...I'll show you later...Cindy posted some shots on Instagram, so you
can enjoy the substance there).</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After
we'd rung the Ring of Kerry entirely, we stopped in the town of Dingle one last
time and I indulged in a wee cup of ice cream at world famous Murphy's Ice
Cream -- I tried two flavours and settled on Carmelized Brown Bread. Really yummy. We filled the tank of the beast of a car -- 60
Euros!!!! And traveled down to the
town of Killarney where we found our last minute hotel find, the Killarney Park
Hotel (& Spa). They took one
look at Cindy and my windblown faces and determined that, by golly, they should
upgrade these ladies to a suite.
And they did!</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
We dined
at the hotel restaurant, which was superb. There was a woman playing the oddest songs on the
piano, like a melodic, sophisticated versions of 'ladies night' and 'the farmer
and the cowman should be friends'... the place was filled with mostly gabby Irish
groups and the service was friendly and impeccable. Loved it. Cindy
had a fish platter, I enjoyed the Kerry Lamb with aubergine risotto and black
pudding. The black pudding was
served up in little cubes. It was
all fantastic. Cindy had been
eyeing the onion rings as they went by our tables, and at the end of the meal I
asked our darling waitress if she would bring Cindy just one. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Just
one. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
She,
instead brought us a whole serving gratis, which we nibbled at. When we were done with our meal and
were headed out, the sweetheart headed us off with a plate of chocolate
truffles, urging us to take them to our room if we didn't wish to have them
then.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
Lovely, lovely, lovely.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I don't
know if I've pointed this out, but the sun doesn't set here to nearly 9 p.m.,
so though our days have been long and late, it doesn't feel that way because
the sun is hiding for so few hours.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Oh
no!!! it's now April 29 and our
holiday is nearly over! I don't
want to go home. We have
absolutely found paradise here in Ireland, and I don't know why anyone would
leave this beautiful, peaceful, cheerful place.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We pack up from here and head for Cork. </div>
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<br /></div>
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******</div>
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<br /></div>
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Oh, the
sadness, the terrible sadness of leaving the one you've grown to love. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I'm on my
flight from London back to Los Angeles and am as bereaved as can be over
leaving magical, beautiful Ireland and wonderful, lovely Great Britain. Before
I land, here is the last of our trip.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After our
night in Killarney we sadly left the grand hotel with the impeccable service
and, with me at the wheel of our oversized rental vehicle, on the often narrow
and winding Irish roads, traveled Eastward to Kinsale. Yes, the scenery was again beautiful,
mostly blue skies, fluffy clouds, scattered raindrops clearing to blue skies.
The landscape changed from the patchwork quilt pastures with sheep, to rocky
ledges and sheer drop offs, and then darker pastures with cows before leading
us into the harbour town of Kinsale.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
The heavy
rain that had been forecast for our entire holiday did finally begin to catch
us</div>
<div class="Body1">
here as
we ducked into the fabulous restaurant Fishy Fishy, which offered delicious
fish freshly caught in the waters just off the dock. Cindy felt it was time to sample the Irish beer and
ordered a Murphy's Irish stout -- pronounced "Mairphees" -- I had a taste of the dark colored stuff which was covered
with a substantial head and delivered a meaty taste -- in my humble
opinion. After lunch, we shopped
the darling town as the wind began to really pick up. By the time we arrived in Cork it was blowing like the
bejeezus. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
You might
even say that an ill wind had blown in as well. The hotel staff at Cork wasn't properly welcoming, rushing
us off to our room which was dreadfully dreary, so much so that we asked to be
changed to a room that wasn't quite so dark. With much bustle and stiff intensity, they moved us over to
a room that, though brighter was as cold as a crypt. At this point we rang them up again and explained that we
were really unsatisfied with the way things were going at this hotel, after
such a perfect many stays at hotels around Europe. Again, much bustle and getting back to us, as wind and rain
whipped outside and whistled into the room which would not be heated. Finally, satisfaction, the manager came
to our room with two glasses of champagne with some peculiar, red berries
floating on top, goodie bags of high-end toiletries and offers of many
apologies. We took the champagne,
and I asked drily if the berries were poisonous<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">…</span> She responded that she was
sure that they weren't, not getting my little joke at all! Within an hour we were ensconced in a
room that was more to our liking.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After
recuperating from such a dreadful introduction to Cork, a very big city,
actually, and a college town wherein the beautiful countryside had been paved
over and was chock-a-block with buildings instead of sheep or cows or bunnies,
although I did see a pair of swans enduring the drizzle on the River Lee,..
what was I saying? Ah, yes, after recuperating, we determined it was high time
that we gave our ears a treat and headed off to a pub known to feature
traditional Irish music. We walked
through the town, over the river Lee and found a muggy, crowded bar with 14
musicians all jamming together. It
was delightful. I made friends with a girl who sometimes plays accordion there,
and is a transplant from Ohio. She
had been in Ireland for only a couple of years, but she had already picked up
quite the Irish accent. She
explained to me who a couple of the key players were, including a local
legendary lyricist, and a guy who played this odd version of bagpipes --
instead of blowing into pipes, he squeezes a bellows under one arm --and
another bloke who had some kind of hand-drum the size of a very large
tambourine. My new friend
explained that this was called a 'trad session' and that musicians can just pop
in and join the group, if they know the songs. Pretty darn fabulous.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Next
morning we trekked back down the city streets of Cork looking for unique
shopping opportunities, but only found rain and a band of Amnesty International
solicitors who wouldn't leave us alone.
The local Market was boring, and half empty, so we gave up, freshened up
and pulled out the keys to our beast of a rental and ventured out to Ballymaloe
in the rain. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Thank
goodness, that brought us back to the Ireland we'd come to know and love, the
countryside. We had a most
delightful lunch at Ballymaloe after a bit of shopping in the fantastic gift
shop. My umbrella was blown inside
out as we made it back to the car to travel further up the road to view the
Ballymaloe Cookery School and adjoining gardens.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
This
morning it was up at 4 a.m. to return the rental car, catch our Aer Lingus
flight to London Heathrow, then board our separate flights back to
California. We were both fortunate
in that we did not have to endure a long day at Heathrow awaiting afternoon
flights because both of us were able to get onboard an earlier flight; I am on
mine now in my
sweet little Virgin Atlantic fully flat bed, having napped after watching The
Artist. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I shall be
home soon and hope I'm prepared for the culture shock of fewer men being
gentlemen, warmer weather and hair that doesn't curl up most unbecomingly each
time I venture outdoors. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I never
did get a chance to go horseback riding, nor did we kiss the Blarney Stone, or
even view the Blarney Castle. I
didn't see Mary King's Close in Edinburgh or go on any of the ghost tours. I guess I will have to plan
another visit to Europe in the near future.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Cheers!
(that<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">’</span>s how
they say farewell here)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Lori<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-81784234404319816052012-07-11T07:18:00.001-07:002012-07-11T07:18:42.933-07:00<i>Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is Nothing.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">[I was going to insert a photo of a dog resisting a bone here, but Hamish doesn't have the self restraint that I do.]</span>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-79944274623967671602012-06-04T09:13:00.000-07:002012-07-22T08:48:24.327-07:00My UK/Ireland Vacation, Part II<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Here's what's been going on in Scotland, where the sheep are funny and
turn up in many different colours. I have no idea what day it is. I do know that I am back in my
hotel room at the Howard Hotel. I must tell you that we chose this hotel based
on the website which earnestly and extravagantly extolled the benefits of their
superior concierge staff. According to the site, there was no chore too big, or
too small to ask of them -- shirt ironing, suit pressing, shoe polishing,
packing and unpacking, minor laundry repairs, restaurant recommendations and
booking, onward journey planning including online check in for air travel,
collection of shopping or gifts, hosting drinks receptions in your room or
private events suite! So I knew it
would be no problem for them to find me a doctor to write me a prescription for
my Epipen, which had expired. I
figured that since it will cost me $240 to refill it in the states, I can see a
doctor here, and pay for the prescription for less than half of that. Therefore, before retiring for the night, I asked the concierge service to find
a physician for me to visit. At my request, the woman at the front desk looked at me
with Bambi eyes and the stuttering of a would-be king and replied that my
request taxed her mental abilities and that she would have to look into it
further. She called upon her
partner concierge who was in a hustle and bustle to help another guest and
showed little optimism for my needs to be satisfied. I gave them further
information and asked them to attend to it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Imagine my surprise when I approached the concierge at noon the next day
and the 'concierge' simply stated that she didn't know: ‘But, Mary might know,
but I don't see her right now…’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">I, with bag in hand was ready to go out for the day, and asked her quite
kindly to get off her damn duff
and go find this Mary and see what they'd come up with. I'm not here for the
week, you know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Twenty minutes passed while she attended to the matter, and before the
sun had set, I had an appointment to see a doctor at 5:30 p.m. which would
costs me 60 pounds. The Epipen, as quoted by the Boots Pharmacy, would cost
another 7 pounds so, I'd be way ahead on prescription costs in the USA. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Cindy and I trudged South up the road and toured Edinburgh Castle, which
was quite fun. We paid the extra fee for the headphones and recordings tour.
It's funny, but what we enjoyed most about the tour was the military prison,
and the general prison. At the end of the tour, I declined to put in an offer
on the Castle because there was a definite lack of kitchen facilities on view.
Sure, there was that stone, bread-baking oven, but, can one live on bread
alone? From there we got ripped off at the local gift shops on the Royal Mile,
then trudged over to the doctors office. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">The 15-minute walk to the doctor’s office estimated by that fabulous
concierge was really a 30 minute walk. Nevertheless, being the seasoned
travelers that Cindy and I are, we arrived just in time. I filled out forms and
we were then directed to the waiting area, wherein Cindy got increasingly
agitated by the sick people in attendance. Pretty soon I was called into the
doctor's office, and told him my request, showed him my expired Epipen and
asked for a refill. He asked if I was healthy otherwise, I responded that I was
so healthy it was just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wrong</i>. He asked if I was on any other
medication, I responded of course not (not, that he would ever know, that is),
and he wrote out the prescription. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">From there Cindy and I went to David Bann's restaurant where we enjoyed
a nice vegetarian meal (please God, let me have some meat) and I embarrassed
the cooks by photographing them through the little access window. Cindy and I
also again made note of the proper way that people eat here in the UK. They
don't just bolt down their food like people in the U.S. do, and they certainly
don't eat while strolling or driving. The have their fork in their left hand,
they use their knife in their right hand to gently push food onto the fork,
then deftly move the fork to their mouth. So damned civilized. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Cindy even counted the number of scrapes with knife to fork before each
bite from one adjacent diner. Four to six. We intend to try to eat like that
from now on. Then it was a walk back to the hotel in the drizzle where I made note
of the Harvey Nicks store as we passed, for future reference. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Look how I’m speeding right through this!!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Today we awoke in time to trudge back up the big hills and arrive just
in time for the start of our bus tour of the Scottish Highlands and Lochs. I
don't know if it was the lack of circulated air in the van (Mercedes) or what,
but Cindy and I kept fighting to stay awake. We saw some marvelous castles and
some beautiful lochs and I even managed to herd some sheep in an effort to photograph
them near an abandoned castle. The rain was on and off all day. Our tour
stopped for lunch at a lovely little fishing village and we chose a hotel
restaurant for our midday meal.
They were quite busy and we had doubts that we’d be seated and supped in
time to make it back to our bus at the appointed hour. Learning of our dilemma the sweet
hostess walked us through the building to the bar where we could order lunch
from the same kitchen. Fantastic. I finally was able to enjoy some fish
and chips and, my gosh, it was wonderful. The fish was so moist, the chips so
crispy. Plus, the entertainment! The local old men draped over the bar were quite a hoot!
You'd think these regulars actually owned the bar instead of just being
patrons. They kept instructing the young female barkeep on how to do things. A hapless tourist mistakenly entered
the back of the bar through a tiny door and they shouted at the poor woman to
go away, then one of the regulars used his cane to reach through the bar and
slam the door shut. Loved it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmRpmdYYTlcDUeU3YqkR9Nx1UcrJKCUlBbl9BQJLfSj7N2PswGN146lfjBGyivNXBFDU4ciykR8g-6tV1-UiTMxU26B6rQxzuRGfzAhz8lECmN5jpkTNlSEZYIOzKAIPOUcdgdC-ICp_h/s1600/IMG_0195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmRpmdYYTlcDUeU3YqkR9Nx1UcrJKCUlBbl9BQJLfSj7N2PswGN146lfjBGyivNXBFDU4ciykR8g-6tV1-UiTMxU26B6rQxzuRGfzAhz8lECmN5jpkTNlSEZYIOzKAIPOUcdgdC-ICp_h/s320/IMG_0195.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">No big dinner tonight. Tomorrow, we plan to find a pharmacy that
actually stocks Epipens, visit the Parliament Building and shop at Harvey
Nicks. or is it Harvey Knicks? Does it matter? It's a department store that my
hairdresser insists I visit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Today’s our last day in Edinburgh, our last day in Scotland, so I
decided that I'd better have some authentic Scottish food and some Scotch, or ‘Whiskey’
as they call it here. Unless someone lied to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Cindy and I have worn out Edinburgh, definitely worn out the crap shops
on the Royal Mile. The day started with a visit to Boots where I picked up two
new Epipens. I come to find out that the prescription was more pricey than I'd
been told, but still, even with the doctor visit, I obtained two Epipens for a
total price of 143 pounds, (70 pounds for doctor visit, 73 pounds for two
Epipens) that's $230 U.S. dollars. It would have cost me $480 for the two in
the States. Ha! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">After Boots we visited Harvey Nichols and enjoyed the lovely clothes,
the ugly clothes, and the quite amusing food market and restaurants on the top
floor. At the food counter, there was a little circling conveyor belt on which
floated different deserts in front of the diners -- just like at one of those
funny sushi bar. On the other side of the floor, just
past the fancy foods area, was a sushi bar, with sushi dishes drifting by.
Funny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Cindy looked for Celtic salt and I purchased a wee little gift for Ma.
Next up, Cindy was hot to go to some baked potato take-away that she'd read about
-- (so it must be great, right?) I foolishly purchased one with cheese which
was filled with restaurant grade, non-melting cheese, and the whole mess cooled
off immediately, so I nipped into some of the potato, then wrapped it up and
shoved it into my bag. I should have stuck to my desire to visit an authentic
pub for lunch...but, no.... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">We walked to the new Scottish Parliament building and enjoyed the
beautiful architecture. We got tickets (free) to sit in on the afternoon
session and it was pretty darn entertaining, I think. I enjoyed a debate on the
state of women's correctional facilities and loved the way that Brits express
their opinions during someone else's presentation by drumming on their desks.
Funny. Human. The Scottish accent can be so very deep, but, when you get into
the rhythm of it, you can do alright understanding it. The people I speak to
here probably feel the same way about me and my speedy American expressions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Afterwards we wandered some streets that we'd somehow managed to miss
and wound up at a large dining hall with a great many rooms. The drill there is
to go up to the 'till' at the bar, order your food and drink, take your drink,
and tell them where you've planted yourself so that the server can find you and
bring you your food. The place was pretty crowded -- especially for the early
hour, 5 ish. I ordered a nice British Beef and Ale pie with mashed potatoes and
ate most everything up. Yum. Meat! It was good for soaking up the wine and the
wee bit of whiskey. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">I ordered a shot of Glenfiddich, had a little sip, dramatically aired
out my mouth and then settled back with a glass of Australian Chardonnay and
realized that I'd had an epiphany. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">I've decided that in my next life, in whatever World is set before me, I
will enquire after an instruction book straightaway so that, next time, things
will go a bit more smoothly. No, there is no established religion that talks
about such a concept, but, as I said, I had an epiphany, and in this vision I
feel that, just before I'm sucked into the new world where I'll spend who knows
how many years...perhaps they won't even measure it in years....it will be all
so different...but before being thrown into my next life, I'll call out to God,
or one of this messengers and say: "Eh, Pal? Can you give me the
instruction book on how to do things right this time? And, make it quite quick,
if you don't mind, because I need to absorb the knowledge completely just
before landing naked in the new place.” I'll remember to do that. Perhaps one
of the readers here will remind me of this plan on my deathbed so I'll have a
better shot at achieving this new goal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">After that, we stumbled into some other precious stores -- Camper, Cath
Kidson and Anthropologie, then returned to our little room to make arrangements
to fly to Ireland first thing the next morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">After flying into Dublin tomorrow, we will board a train for nearly 4
hours. Fun, fun, fun. We disembark in Tralee, the get a rental car which we
will expertly steer out to Dingle. What a great name, right??? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Cindy and I were tallying up and reviewing the hotels we've stayed in
thus far. None have looked anything like they were advertised on the web. Ah,
the genius of creative photography. But they've all been safe, cozy, adequate,
and so far the bathroom never disappointed. In hotels number two and number
three, we had heated towel racks which are a wonderful thing. But, neither of
them worked. Poo. Let's see what happens in Ireland. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Good morning, it is now Friday, April 27, 2012 and it's been a long day
already. Cindy and I had to get up before the crack of dawn to make our Aer
Lingus flight from Edinburgh to Dublin. After checking our bags, we strolled
through a lovely cosmetic and doodad shopping area, then found a table in the
oversized bar/restaurant. The place was perfectly busy with men in kilts and
team shirts drinking beer -- at 7:30 a.m.!!! I went to the till to order our
breakfasts and waited for some kind busboy to clear the previous diner's
rubbish from our table. That never happened, I bused the table myself. Oh well.
I did my best to eat my scrambled eggs on toast the European way -- knife in
right hand, fork in left hand, upside down, scrape food onto back of fork and
bring it delicately to your mouth. Tricky business that! How will I ever get
plump doing that? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">It was one of those flights where you drag your things out onto the
tarmac, then climb the stairs into the train. The stewardess was very sweet,
especially in her demonstration to naughty travelers who put their suitcases in
the overhead bins, but clearly failed to notice that it was too jammed for the
bin door to close. She had long dark hair, and freckles up and down her arms,
but Cindy let it be known that she was actually a natural redhead. She was
quite cheerful under all conditions. We napped a bit on the one-hour flight,
and then got the sweetest cab driver at the Dublin airport who was originally
from Dingle. Nice, nice man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">He told us we'll really enjoy it there once we get used to the language…says
they pretty much ‘sing’ to you when they are speaking, they don't know they
are, but that's the way it is. We talked of politics, and his impression of
Obama when he visited their country recently, 'seemed a nice enough man', then
chatted about the many Republican candidates, the Eurozone, austerity measures,
Brussels, Greece. When the rain started coming down on the cab his said:
"here comes the soft day" -- what a lovely way to say that the rain
is falling! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Once deposited at the train station we got our tickets, queued up for
the train and were pleased to see our names in lights over our table seats
facing each other. I am traveling backwards and am enjoying the countryside. We
were joined by a couple who are taking the train to Cork for her brother's 60th
birthday. She MUST be the older sister. I'm sorry to say that we weren't as
welcoming as we should have been to them joining us at our table, but we were
then into a week of travel, joined at the hip, and just not as gleeful as
before. Bad us. To make matters a little more difficult, I tumbled a little
onto the little metal strip between the seats and bruised my tailbone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times;">More to come...including: rental car debacle, Cindy drives in Ireland
and we arrive in the most beautiful, magical countryside in all creation.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-86766100116486800542012-05-30T16:47:00.001-07:002012-05-30T16:47:27.625-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPl9Cda4fdfmfKO9Job8a1Q6vOfW4SSHpyq6RrZIvZXaqpox6i6vqkAkXNEuHljZCyBVyC7wK9pDZoBkTv1F42_LriBwqpsw1V03uSmBfK8HLuJ4Ge4KxpKYtUrbquMAIKloKs8nHHKO-t/s1600/live.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPl9Cda4fdfmfKO9Job8a1Q6vOfW4SSHpyq6RrZIvZXaqpox6i6vqkAkXNEuHljZCyBVyC7wK9pDZoBkTv1F42_LriBwqpsw1V03uSmBfK8HLuJ4Ge4KxpKYtUrbquMAIKloKs8nHHKO-t/s400/live.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-77453050331892308822012-05-26T07:09:00.004-07:002012-06-04T09:16:59.412-07:00My UK/Ireland Vacation, Part I<br />
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April 2012</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Day one
of my fabulous UK/Ireland vacation with my sister Cindy, and the universe is
making it perfectly clear that this should be a journey with as few electronic communications/comforts/entertainments
as is feasible in this day and age. I think I know why. I think that I, as a human in the 20th
century, am so happily tethered to my devices that I am no longer obligated to
be in the moment, to enjoy the here, the now. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
And, that
is why when I plopped myself into my little nest of a seat in the Virgin
Atlantic upper class cabin, and found that the many personal, on-demand video
options that were going to provide me with instant information on wherever the
flight was in the world, and to catch me up on movies by offering up <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">‘</span>The Artist<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">’</span> prior to my falling off to
sleep, that is why the blasted system went haywire. After several attempts by the frustrated British
flight attendant to re-boot the system, I gave up, had my little bed made up,
threw back a glass of wine and a sleeping aid and tried to sleep. But never really did. Don't get me wrong, that upper class
flat bed was very comfortable indeed, especially with the lovely, white duvet
tucked around me. But, the
universe, as I said, wanted me to fully appreciate the journey and I soon came to
realize that drink, which as you all well know, I haven't sipped in the year
2012, has a tendency to make me irritable. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
The
universe was seeing to it that I was indeed 'in the moment' as some ridiculous
young professional monopolized the flight attendant, loudly describing for her
his current and past projects, with me, his captive audience, even as I nudged
the little orange foam earplugs more firmly, more completely into my ear
canals. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Or
perhaps this was my penance for my impatience as I was stalled earlier in the
day during my endeavor to board the flight. The entire line had snaked behind me as I was held at bay,
for what seemed like forever, as some buffoon and his father and another passenger
took their sweet time about settling their belongings in the overhead bin,
blocking the aisle the whole while as we waited, and watched and waited and
watched and waited until I could take it no more and said to the one just ahead
of me 'excuse me, may I get by you, the line of people behind me is now jammed
up completely, back this aisle, down the stairs and through the jet-way.' The guy looked at me with either
complete incomprehension or aghast disbelief, and I was able to use that moment
of his confusion to push past the numbskull and get to my seat.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
So
yes. The universe wants me to pay
attention to everything. And, that
is why I soon learned upon arriving in London that my mobile phone, the one I
had so properly set up to work in Europe to guide me with GPS maps, to alert me
to what's going on back home, to locate me and offer me up advice on what to do
and where to go and when I'd planned to do and go, well, it decided that it was
not going to do those things at all.
It was going to take a vacation too, because it had left its precious
SIM card in the desk drawer back in Los Angeles because, although it was
necessary for international roaming, it had never been necessary in the U.S.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
So, by
golly, I'm rolling with it, and being in the moment and not missing any of
these glorious sights, which, as you remember, I had every intention of sharing
with you along the way, but, naturally,
it now turns out that the itty bitty camera with the Wifi device that
could magically send my fresh vacation photos over to the iPad i'm currently
composing on and beam them out to you using some sort of magical photo sharing
software, well....no such luck with that linkage either. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
3:26 a.m.
London time. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Yesterday
we saw the tower of London and the crowns and the jewels. I told one of the guards that I was
saving up frequent flyer miles to purchase the biggest of the crowns, but he
offered me a better opportunity -- it just so happened that he was selling
raffle tickets to win that crown encrusted with diamonds, emeralds and
sapphires! I'm sure its legit,
because he had such an honest face, and a badge.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjwaI2RDaayydVSb4jhKxt6krp1TZMn8t5T9B-GcxQijcZh2Suq7LbRpVmuFsRvsle4SdU1BrduY9pLOBQ6AIgrCu1tydd7j1AFvl4aFmVgArn7BeEjgThxCXo-e_Ac7foez3zyaw3J9C/s1600/IMG_0119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjwaI2RDaayydVSb4jhKxt6krp1TZMn8t5T9B-GcxQijcZh2Suq7LbRpVmuFsRvsle4SdU1BrduY9pLOBQ6AIgrCu1tydd7j1AFvl4aFmVgArn7BeEjgThxCXo-e_Ac7foez3zyaw3J9C/s200/IMG_0119.jpg" width="150" /></a>We road
the tube, a double-decker bus, and a funny little taxi cab. We had a nice vegan dinner in the
basement of one chi chi restaurant -- its walls tiled with little white
sound-enhancing tiles. The bathroom walls lined with a jagged arrangement of
mirrors. Delicious green lentils
with radishes. Cindy opted
for a nice white wine, I enjoyed a warm cup of chamomile tea.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Our room
is in a tiny, quaint hotel and I love, love, love the old fashioned skeleton
key that is inserted into the little hole in the door that is itself covered by
its own little door. The key
is attached to a very heavy brass thing with the hotel name engraved on it, and
each time you leave the hotel, you just hand it to the friendly person at the
front desk who gives it back to you when you return. Sweet. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
The light
switches are little brass levers and when you wish to turn on the lights, you
flip them down, not up. The light
switch for the bathroom is outside the bathroom, so you must trust your
traveling companion not to switch it off while you're doing whatever you wish to
privately do inside the loo. The bathroom is small but perfect, and I enjoyed a
nice soak before bedtime. This is
an old building, and the taps take a moment to consider, when you turn them on,
before offering up the water. The
pipes groan and squeak a bit as well, but that's okay. Penhaligan toiletries were thoughtfully
left on the counter and it was a sweet way to get ready for a good nights rest.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I've
decided that London is a city of people who prefer patterned garments more than
we Los Angelenos are accustomed to.
Big loud patterned coats, boldly floral blouses, and some wild shoes for
men...I saw some proper men's dress shoes actually encrusted with a pattern of
rhinestones!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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We've
been blessed with wonderful weather so far, with just a little bit of rain and
no real need to button our coats up to our chins.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Tomorrow
we drop back into Paddington Station and start our journey North. We stay tomorrow night in the historic
town of York, and I hope to find myself a pub for some rib sticking British
food like steak and kidney pie or fish and chips.</div>
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<br /></div>
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More to come, in spite of my reduced access to electronics
as I LIVE ... on vacation.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Take Two<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Do you
remember how I started this trip with a lot of difficulty with my electronics? <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Well, I just wrote this whole
travel journal about yesterday, and poof it disappeared., so I have to draft
the darn thing AGAIN!!!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Oy!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Do you
know how I'm always saying that I love to ride on trains? <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Well, yesterday may have
pushed that joy to the limit. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Cindy and
I started our day with a very long walk through Hyde Park over to Kensington
road and Knightsbridge. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>After two nights of not really getting a night's sleep, it
was wonderful to be strolling out in the brisk air amidst such beauty -- green
grass and trees, flowers, cobblestone walks.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
--[oooohh...Ocean
views from train right now...sheep...lots of sheep]--</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
where was
I? <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Yes, so
we enjoyed our walk, saw three little girls in the Park riding horseback, and
there were just a lot of people out walking as well. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>It was Sunday after all. We
walked and walked, checked out the windows at Harrods, then got back to the
hotel and walked over to Paddington Station. Everyone so far has been just so
very friendly. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>And
polite. Holding doors for each other, pleases and thank you's . <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I
inquired of an attendant at Paddington Station Information which train we
should take to get to our main train to York, and encountered our first jerk. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>This guy first gave me the
wrong information about which train, and when I politely asked him which side
of the platform we should be on, he shoved a tube map at me and said: ' As I
was told as a child in Australia, READ!<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">’</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>RUDE.
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Cindy and
I did make it to our train at the London King's Cross station on time, but the
mishaps had only begun. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>We sat on the train, in that station for 2+ hours<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>because there was a stalled
train on the track blocking all other trains. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>There was a mass exodus from
the train after hour two, and<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Cindy was especially joyous because those leaving the train
included a father and a crying child who was driving her mad. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
We were
soon joined by a second set of traveling companions, a sweet couple who live up
in Newcastle, they say its God's country. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Lovely, they were. Even despite the fact that the gentleman
had the longest white hairs sprouting from the top of his nose. Curious that. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>A decade or two older than us,
they regaled us with information and stories and endured with us the raucous
group of people in adjacent seats who dealt with the stalled train by getting
more and more drunk. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Our Newcastle friend continually rolled her eyes, arms
crossed over her chest, at the absurd things one of the women getting drunk was
saying -- like proclaiming that the odor of the brakes of the train was 'coming
from the tires'.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
Hello! <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>It's a train! <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Has the 50+ woman never looked at the wheels of a train?! <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Several
trains that were to depart after us were cancelled, so we had a mass influx of
travelers and the train was so jam-packed that people were standing in the
aisles and sitting on the train floor.<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>The train started up, got two stations north, and then
waited again forever at that station. Our companions actually apologized for
the odd delay and assured us that train travel here is usually much more
civilized. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>We
have a new way of saying that something is good: it's 'a bit of a rainbow,
that...'</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Our
original train was to leave the station before 2p.m, and arrive by 4p,<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>but instead, we sat on the
train until after 10 p.m. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>We then stood in a long queue to get a cab, which was quite
silly when we found how incredibly close our hotel was to the train station.
The cab driver, Cindy and I had quite the laugh over that. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>Oh, yes, and we stood in that
silly taxi queue just behind the raucous woman who weaved and stumbled and I
was afraid would soon vomit on my shoes. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>She actually offered to share her cab with us.... uh, yeah...no...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
By the
time we got to the hotel, the restaurant was just closed, so we threw down our
bags, went to the bar, ordered bar food and killed a bottle of chardonnay in a
lovely big old room of our very old hotel. <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';"> </span>We then had a completely
lovely full night's sleep.</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
What day
is it? It's the 24th. How many days have I been on
vacation? What city are we
in? </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
I have
two days to write about before I sleep, and tomorrow morning is the first time
that we actually need to get up early.
Dang. Timing. Dang.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So, here's what happened in York.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
When last
I chattered on about our journey, we were getting mildly plastered at a hotel
lounge in York.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Next day
we awoke feeling none the worse for wear and were again delighted to find that
the weather was being very, very kind to us. Although all weather reports had shown cloudy skies and
rain, we seemed to miss most of the raindrops. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
After
having self-made French press coffee in our room, we walked out into York with
no real destination in mind, except to see the famous walls of the city and
take in the sites. We had a most dreadful
lunch at some lame-ass vegan restaurant and then wandered about enjoying the
shops and green landscapes and wonderful people. There were many delightful shops with pastries and musical
instruments on sales...not just the usual guitars, but also a variety of
autoharps and accordions. From the
looks of the shops, I would think that music is a bigger part of UK lives than
it is for us jaded Americans. And,
I'm a music lover! We enjoyed a
visit to the local Marks and Spencer where I once again was intrigued by how
very many different kinds of cream you can find in British dairy cases. We found the city wall and scaled it
and walked along the wall and took goofy photos of one another with our hair
all frizzing out from the moisture in the air. I nearly dropped my iPhone from the wall down into an
inaccessible garden, but the fates were with me. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
There's a
lot of acceptance of the end of lives that have passed through these
parts. Old stone crypts are
displayed open next to fields of colorful tulips. The wet earth is so rich here, and I shot some interesting
photos of headstones covered with mold beside glorious flower beds. So amazing. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Now,
here's a little something out of left field. Many of you know that I am deathly allergic to bee stings and
I am to carry an Epipen with me at all times which will deliver a dose of
epinephrine if I<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">’</span>m
stung to keep me from dying. Prior
to leaving Los Angeles, I had a bit of a scare with a swarm by my kitchen door,
at which time I came to realize that my Epipen had expired last August. So, my dear doctor wrote me a
prescription for a new Epipen, and when I phoned the pharmacy to fill the
prescription, I learned that my insurance would not cover aforementioned Epipen,
and that filling it will cost me $240.
For one Epipen. And, I'm really supposed to have two on hand...one for
the car, and one for my purse. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Well,
here in York, I ambled into a Boots pharmacy and inquired as to the price they
would charge me for an Epipen. Do
you know what they told me? 7 pounds....that's,
what? $10???? The pharmacy could not sell me an
Epipen without a prescription, and mine was sitting in a pharmacy back in
Valley Village, U.S.A., so I tucked this little bit of information into the
front of my wee brain. But,
think of this, 7 pounds versus $240 in America? I'll spare you my latest rant on the state of health care in
America. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
But,
thinking back to the days before I left on this trip, Something not so out of
left field is the chagrin I felt when I laid out everything that I knew I would
absolutely need for my 12 days away, and saw that it would not fit into the
tiny onboard suitcase, nor the medium -- 'sometimes they let me take it on
board' bag, but was requiring the actual large size suitcase that would indeed
need to be checked at the airport.
I knew my sister would give me such grief about such indulgence, but, I
do so like to be prepared. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
This
little suitcase has brought me more attention on this trip than anyone
anticipated. Attention not only
from onlookers who watched me drag it up and down a staircase at the York train
station, but also attention from my shoulders, back and calves which are
screaming at me to be less of a girl.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Cindy and
I checked out of the York hotel and dragged our suitcases back to the train
station. We met some nice people
there, but I was determined that I wouldn't be dragging that suitcase up any
more staircases. Before I'd even
arrived in Europe and started to purchase little souvenirs, the suitcase
weighed 22.3 pounds, as noted by the scale at LAX. Now, that's not really too much, but it is unwieldy. So, we got to the train station and
went to find our platform...it was on the other side of the tracks. And, you know how you can be very brain
dead from jet lag. Well, Cindy and
I went to find an elevator to carry us up and over the track to the proper
platform, and both of us were completely dumbfounded when we saw that there was
nothing but air above the doors of the elevator. It was one of those simple, yet inconceivable moments, when
it took us probably a full 60 seconds to figure out that the elevator would not
actually rise above the first floor into the air and drop us through an
invisible tube to the other side, like something out of a Harry Potter novel,
but would instead go down into the earth,
and allow us to take a tunnel to the other side. When Cindy and I saw the error of our
thinking we collapsed into a full five minutes of hysterical laughter. It was something else.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Once back
on the train, we must have been so used to a long wait, that we weren't
prepared when the train stopped, at it's final destination, Edinburgh. We weren't ready at all, and me and my
giganto suitcase were having such a time of it, that everyone else was off the
train and Cindy was watching me from the exit as I tried to extract it from
behind my seat and nearly fell over it with my carry on bag -- a scene right
out of a slapstick comedy.
Cindy was already laughing at me, when I was approached from behind by
the station master who grabbed my suitcase out of my hands and pulled me and
what was mine out of the train so that they could board the passengers for the
ride back. We laughed so hard when
we were out of the train that we got lost and had to double back to find a taxi
to take us to our hotel.
Thankfully, our cab driver was quite the gentleman, and when he swung my
suitcase out of the cab in the rain, he inquired: <span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">‘</span>do you have a spare man in
here?<span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS';">’</span></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
The sun
stays up longer here, so although we were exhausted, Cindy and I threw our baggage
into our hotel room then headed out again to check out the Royal Mile. We ended the day at a nice little pub
called....hell, I don't know what it was called, and i'm not about to get up
and check the receipt, so, just let it be known that I had a chardonnay, Cindy
had pinot noir, then we trudged back to the hotel and turned in for the night.</div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
Today was
spent at the Edinburgh Castle, on the Royal Mile, at a Doctor's office and then
at another vegetarian restaurant. </div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body1">
<br /></div>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-80988807153385937752012-05-20T07:28:00.001-07:002012-05-26T07:24:22.065-07:00Feet flat on the ground. <br />
Hands on the reins. <br />
Eyes on the goal. <br />
The time is now.<br />
No illusions.<br />
Just an adequate dose of optimism and self confidence.Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-2825122983492375432012-05-02T16:06:00.002-07:002012-05-26T07:11:08.315-07:00The trip photos are up! The trip photos are up!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://gallery.me.com/loriaronsohn#100827">http://gallery.me.com/loriaronsohn#100827</a><br />
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<br />Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-22272693283527119682012-04-21T20:04:00.001-07:002012-04-22T04:11:22.377-07:00A start of a very special holidayApril something, 2012 <br />
<br />
Day one of a fabulous UK/Ireland vacation with my sister Cindy, and the universe is making it perfectly clear that this should be a journey with as few electronic comforts/entertainments as is feasible in this day and age. I think I know why. I think that I, as a human in the 20th century, am so happily tethered to my devices that I am no longer obligated to be in the moment, to enjoy the here, the now. And that is why, when I plopped myself into my little nest of a seat in the Virgin Atlantic upper class, and found that the many personal, on-demand video options that were supposed to provide me with instant information on wherever our flight was in the world, and to provide me cinematic viewings like The Artist prior to my falling off to sleep -- that is why the blasted system went haywire. After several attempts by the frustrated Brit flight attendant to reboot the system, I gave up and had my little bed made up, threw back two glasses of wine and a sleeping aid and tried to sleep. But never really did. Don't get me wrong, that upper class flat bed was very comfortable indeed, especially with the lovely white duvet tucked around me. But, the universe, as I said, wanted me to fully appreciate the journey and I soon came to realize that wine, which, as many of you know I've refrained from consuming since my 'cleanse' at the end of 2011, has a tendency to make me irritable. <br />
<br />
The universe was seeing to it that I was indeed 'in the moment' as some ridiculous young professional monopolized the flight attendant, loudly detailing for her his current and past projects, me the captive audience, even as I nudged the little orange foam earplugs more firmly, more completely into my ear canals. Or perhaps this was my penance for my impatience earlier in the day, during my endeavor to board the flight. At that time, I was restrained from forward movement for what seemed like forever as some buffoon and his father and the next passenger took their sweet time ahead of me settling their belongings in the overhead bin, blocking the aisle the whole while as we waited, and watched and waited and watched and waited, the line of people waiting to board huddled up behind me down the aisle, down the stairs, down the jetway. When I could take it no more, this obnoxious American here, asked of the numbskull in front of her 'excuse me, may I get by you, the line of people behind me is now jammed up completely back this aisle, down the stairs .' As the guy looked at me with either complete incomprehension or aghast disbelief, I was able to use his moment of confusion to push past him and get to my seat. <br />
<br />
So yes. The universe wants me to pay attention to everything. And, that is why I soon learned upon arriving in London that my mobile phone, the one I had so properly set up to work in Europe to guide me with gps maps, to alert me to what's going on back home, to locate me and offer up advice on what to do and remind me of where I'd planned to do and go, decided that it was not going to do those things at all. It was going to take a vacation too, because it had left its precious SIM card in the desk drawer back in Los Angeles because, although, it seems a SIM card is necessary for international roaming, it had never been necessary in the U.S. So, by golly, I'm rolling with it, and being in the moment and not missing any of these glorious sights, which, as you remember, I had every intention to share with you along the way, but, naturally, it now turns out that the itty bitty camera with the wifi device that could magically send my fresh vacation photos over to the ipad i'm currently composing on and beam them out to you using some sort of magical photo sharing software, well....no such luck with that linkage either. 3:26 a.m. London time. Yesterday we saw the Tower of London and the crowns and the jewels. I told one of the guards that I was saving up frequent flyer miles to purchase the biggest of the crowns, but he offered me a better opportunity -- it just so happened that he was selling raffle tickets to win that crown encrusted with diamonds, emeralds and sapphires! I'm sure its legit, because he had such an honest face. We road the tube, a double decker bus and a funny little taxi cab. We had a nice vegan dinner in the basement of one chi chi restaurant -- its walls tiled with little white sound-enhancing tiles, the bathroom walls lined with a jagged arrangement of mirrors. Delicious green lentils with radishes. Cindy opted for a nice white wine, I enjoyed a warm cup of chamomile tea. Our room is in a tiny, quaint hotel and I love, love, love the old fashioned skeleton key that is inserted into the little hole in the door which is itself covered by its own little door. The key is attached to a very heavy brass thing with the hotel name engraved on it, and each time you leave the hotel, you just hand it back to the friendly person at the front desk who gives it back to you when you return. Sweet. The light switches are little brass switches and when you wish to turn on the lights, you flip them down, not up. The light switch for the bathroom is outside the bathroom, so you must trust your traveling companion not to switch it off while you're doing whatever you wish to privately do inside the loo. The bathroom is small but perfect, and I enjoyed a nice soak before bedtime. This is an old building, and the taps take a moment to consider when you turn them on before offering up the water. The pipes groan and squeak a bit as well, but that's okay. Penhaligan toiletries were thoughtfully left on the counter and it was a sweet way to get ready for a good nights rest. I've decided that London is a city of people who prefer patterned garments more than we Los Angelenos are accustomed to. Big loud patterned coats, florally floral blouses, and some wild shoes for men...I saw some proper men's dress shoes actually encrusted with a pattern of rhinestones!! We've been blessed with wonderful weather so far, with just a little bit of rain and no real need to button up our coats to our chins. Tomorrow we drop back into Paddington Station and start our journey North. We stay tomorrow night in the historic town of York, and I hope to find myself a pub for some rib sticking British food like steak and kidney pie or fish and chips. More to come, in spite of my reduced access to electronics as i live ... on vacation. Love, LoriLori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-55494306834586735202012-04-21T20:01:00.001-07:002012-04-21T20:01:30.603-07:00HealthyCholesteral much lower, everything is ticking properly.
Yay. Thanks for the word Dr. E.!Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-66214685976760939322012-04-11T07:54:00.001-07:002012-04-11T07:54:56.624-07:00Next Up:The doctor and the labs speak. Check back for when I check back.Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-60735556899528929332012-03-26T20:26:00.007-07:002012-04-06T12:50:22.770-07:00The Year of Living Healthfully Continues<span class="Apple-style-span">I'm just about down to my target weight, but may keep it going and drop a few more pounds just to have a </span>'cushion'<span class="Apple-style-span">. My skin is glowing, my eyes are clear, and now it's your turn.<div><br /></div><div>Check out this new video about the way we should be eating...and it's not a diet, it's educated common-sense and making defensive choices against the food industry marketing campaigns. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope you enjoyed the inspiring free online premiere of Hungry for Change, if not, you can obtain a copy here:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://clicks.aweber.com/y/ct/?l=74POg&m=3k9DylAMYlALsif&b=kKC0PRVoQWRpzOU.GEJ93A">Hungry For Change</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></span>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-4765935376815386222012-03-13T18:26:00.005-07:002012-03-13T18:42:29.731-07:00Mid-March 2012 -- the cleanse results endure<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UgXiOcf0WMbSjCXQuY86NDSiMCxHzG4djSq9_RJihKdU_TwjW0hub-9ZvyVvQOXost_CkcRMEqVDUnQi9_NBSpEQcMN3_pG__44u0dSdb9hbuUKPeMmBlBkc5xfkCLAzE7BfRZMT8XX_/s1600/insidewhtrose.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UgXiOcf0WMbSjCXQuY86NDSiMCxHzG4djSq9_RJihKdU_TwjW0hub-9ZvyVvQOXost_CkcRMEqVDUnQi9_NBSpEQcMN3_pG__44u0dSdb9hbuUKPeMmBlBkc5xfkCLAzE7BfRZMT8XX_/s200/insidewhtrose.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719562101175982146" /></a><br />It has been more than two months since the end of my Juice Cleanse and I'm happy to report that my new healthier lifestyle continues. <div><br /></div><div>I've become quite the connoisseur of teas green and black. No diet pepsi and no wine has passed my lips since last Christmas. Aside from a bite of Elizabeth's chicken tender today, and some salami in a salad at La Scala earlier this month, I've abstained from meat as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel good, I've dropped 7 pounds and, aside from a bit of an Iron deficit, I am as healthy as a I've ever been. I'm no longer suffering from chronic dry eyes, plus, I've retained some of my lost sense of smell. That's right, I can smell the sea air from my parent's home in Pacific Palisades.</div><div><br /></div><div>I highly recommend a 5 day juice cleanse to essentially re-boot your metabolism and your appetite, and to drop all of your bad habits. In fact, I think I'll do it again mid year for my birthday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't ever bet against me, because there's nothing I can't do when I set my mind to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Next up, I conquer the UK and Ireland.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-12354034541851276232012-01-04T07:52:00.000-08:002012-02-03T07:46:38.649-08:00A Fine Finish to the Five Day Juice Cleanse<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Day Four</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I've dropped just an additional .2 pounds … must have been the cucumber slices….</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Happy New Year 2012…I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and fly… </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Granddaughter day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> I battled the t</span>emptation to taste her mac and cheese to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and my habit of licking peanut butter off the knif</p><p class="MsoNormal">e after making her peanut butter crackers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I managed to stop myself each time.</p> <img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjXym4j2t5X4HTM9oLmk_ec_E0HH4r5d_lAMcWRh4KSKusZOxdzYBZRE9WPsP5HXVDepXU2imvzW8IAwsYUv9cLIJR3qsLEe5ky8cbDb9JR2dP4wjXr1m20qC8k3ltpYW0Ur_wtjkFNJ-/s320/DSC_9581_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693807389395507874" /><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Day Five</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Weight down another pound.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">One day to go. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I toyed with the idea of introducing some solid food today, like fish over greens with some vinaigrette, but decided to tough it out.<span> </span> It's totally crazy but I have actually enjoyed each of the three bottles of green juice. I'm feeling a little more hungry than the previous days which I've curbed with celery and green tea. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Benefits so far:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>my sense of smell seems keener again (in public bathrooms, will that be a good thing?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Day Six</b>, That’s finished, what’s next?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yay!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I did it, I really did it. I woke up with a flatter abdomen (4.5 lbs lighter) and I’m not craving coffee. And I’m clear and happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s like my appetite has been reset and I intend to take advantage of it by carefully choosing each and everything that goes in my mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My first day of solid foods included an apple, coffee sweetened with agave and soy creamer, salmon patty over bitter greens, an Arnold Palmer and some popcorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No diet pepsi, no meat, no wine, no crackers, no bread.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I celebrated by spending time at the beach with my granddaughter and my friend.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">(The next day I’d only gained back half a pound.)</p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s all good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s a New Year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s going to be a healthy 2012.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hope you are taking care of yourself too!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-34539868017805360872011-12-29T08:13:00.000-08:002012-01-09T19:04:52.612-08:00The 5 Day Juice Cleanse<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1cXO9OoBYVmrnpuwogQ55Gf3AFFH9LgyjUsblgOXQ4JulkyOGogbF9QwX_kFhsYHVL0kLQunvLLc-UkHFgQE5s08oT3B3rv2XppQ-rxgn04D_OTSqaxFhn_Hs2n2R-ZXCU11eoK5bucJ/s1600/IMG_0166.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 165px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1cXO9OoBYVmrnpuwogQ55Gf3AFFH9LgyjUsblgOXQ4JulkyOGogbF9QwX_kFhsYHVL0kLQunvLLc-UkHFgQE5s08oT3B3rv2XppQ-rxgn04D_OTSqaxFhn_Hs2n2R-ZXCU11eoK5bucJ/s200/IMG_0166.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691584527786895250" /></a><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I've decided to write about my experience on this Juice Cleanse. I've heard that when the toxins start to leave the body, people can say and do some wild things, like "The hell with this job, i'm outta here..." So, it's probably safer if I write a little daily essay instead of opening up my mouth and alienating the people in my life.<br /><br /><b>Day One</b>:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">FOREVER THE OPTIMIST</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here’s what I’m learning so far on this ‘Juice Cleanse.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The first juice of the day is green…very green.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And it tastes green.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m not sure if it’s pleasant or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But, I’m certainly not gulping it as I would my morning orange juice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or my morning cup of coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perhaps one benefit so far, this process is teaching me to ‘eat’ more slowly?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve inserted a straw to help this be more pleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A happy little yellow bendy straw.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But let’s backtrack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yesterday I did my best to ease my way toward this Juice Cleanse by dining on sushi, a little popcorn and at the end of the day, my last glass of vino for thirty days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is a cleanse, for goodness sake, and I intend to make some changes in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aaacckk…icck…hang on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I just took another sip of the green juice….aackk…..ooooooo….y…yu….yummmy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I was saying, I fell asleep after struggling through some chapters of <u>The Pale King</u> and dropped into a nice cozy sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But, damned if I didn’t dream about this juice cleanse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Two separate frustrating dreams where the trouble wasn’t getting through the cleanse, the problem was that people kept taking my bottles of juice for themselves, not knowing their purpose and I tried to set things right and retrieve my bottles of juice but it was an endless frustrating game which ended with me holding just one of the thirty necessary bottles, dragging along the empty handy-dandy juice carrier and slogging my way back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But you know what? In the dream, the bottle of the juice that I did manage to keep for myself tasted a lot better than this vile green stuff I’m sipping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Here’s what I’m drinking: romaine, celery, cucumber, apple, spinach, kale, parsley, lemon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You’re not going to believe this, but the happy little yellow straw just bounced it’s way out of the bottle and into the garbage can.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN5YfxBM6_RMlGkC9FUIH3jE40GxB8NQhIItjhEHJqzk6VSoIrMaEBra3mMFVHHEl9YGFmBpUtBsTVsX0Vxmg51-kUkwUB32TQu48epUO6dsZSJ2dlXwCdgPhcCf5YXNnpcCH_OCMCYXpP/s1600/IMG_0172.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN5YfxBM6_RMlGkC9FUIH3jE40GxB8NQhIItjhEHJqzk6VSoIrMaEBra3mMFVHHEl9YGFmBpUtBsTVsX0Vxmg51-kUkwUB32TQu48epUO6dsZSJ2dlXwCdgPhcCf5YXNnpcCH_OCMCYXpP/s200/IMG_0172.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691745135487778754" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Day One, continued<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">11:33 - I’ve returned from hiking Fryman after finishing only 3/4’s of the green juice.<span> </span>I have a headache threatening to arrive in full force, so now I’m on bottle two of juice.<span> </span>This one features pineapple juice and mint and isn’t too bad.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I must admit that I stopped off at Trader Joe’s on the way home from my hike, stoically avoided the ‘free sample’ table, and picked up some things that are recommended if I just have to supplement this cleanse: green tea, agave nectar and low sodium vegetable broth.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Really, I think I’ll just take a shower and go back to bed, that is always the best way to endure, don’t you think?</p><p class="MsoNormal">Uh oh.<span> </span>I just discovered that, of the 6 bottles of juice that I’m to drink today, 3 of them are the green stuff!!!!<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I keep trying to review emails and such on the computer but keep being confronted with photos of delicious sandwiches!!!!!<span> </span>Do I dare drive to Costco to pick up the dog’s medication?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>1:05 pm - I’ve almost finished my second juice.<span> </span>I’ve also managed to take down the Christmas tree and all the holiday décor.<span> </span>It’s now in piles in the dining room.<span> </span>Thankfully, the dining room can be closed off because I don’t think I have the strength to pull boxes in from the garage and put things away properly.<span> </span>Headache still hovering.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>1:34 pm - Five days of this?<span> </span>Five?<span> </span>What was I thinking?<span> </span>Why didn’t I just start with a three day juice cleanse..or a three day that includes FOOOOOOOODD?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>2:33pm - I feel like shit.<span> </span>The Headache is here, and only gets worse when I lay down.<span> </span>Brewing green tea, hoping for relief.<span> </span>It feels like a hangover.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>3:26 pm.<span> </span>- A very sad feeling came over me as I was going through the mail and spied a picture of a pizza.<span> </span>The throbbing in my temple and my general feeling of ickiness is less noticeable as long as I stay physically busy.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>3:45 pm. - My 19 year old son insists on reading to me from news websites about how what I’m doing is B.S., and that I’m hurting myself.<span> </span>At the same time he and his girlfriend are heating up steak and fries from their dinner last night.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>4:20pm - I’m halfway through my second bottle of the green stuff.<span> </span>As the juice providers suggested, I added some fresh lemon juice to make it more palatable.<span> </span>That made it even worse.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I feel quite strongly that the only reason I’m doing so well right now is because I was able to inhale the delicious fumes from my son’s re-heated steak.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">4:46p – I’m cold. <span></span>I can’t get warm.<span> </span>Grandpa?<span> </span>Grandma?<span> </span>Is that you?<span> </span>How are things in heaven?</p><p class="MsoNormal">6:16 – I decided to switch up the order of my juices and grabbed the one meant for bedtime that would seem to provide some protein, the cashew nut one. <span></span>It’s also the one that seemed like it might actually taste good.<span> </span>That’s right, I was cheating in my order of juices. <span></span>Indulging in ground cashew nuts in water sweetened with<span> </span>agave and spiced with cinnamon before I’ve earned it.<span> </span>So, arrest me.<span> </span>Unfortunately, not so much of a treat, although I admit it didn’t make me gag.<span> </span>It’s kind of chalky, overly sweet and I think that perhaps it might be better warm.<span> </span>One thing is for sure, these portions are much too much for my body and starting now I’m only asking myself to consume half of each bottle.<span> </span>Still awaiting my attention tonight is another bottle of the green stuff, plus a spicy lemonade.<span> </span>I may just turn in for the night now.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>DAY TWO</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">7 a.m</p><p class="MsoNormal">I made it to day two….yay….</p><p class="MsoNormal">I still have a bit of a headache.<span> </span>What is up with that?</p><p class="MsoNormal">I need more protein, deciding whether to switch up green with cashew…2g protein vs 7 g.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Working out this morning.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Need protein.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Dana, my exercise instructor says so.<span> </span>Or, does she just say that we need to eat before working out.<span> </span>Mulling this over.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Good plan, the instructions say it’s okay to drink half the cashew stuff in the morning, so I’ve poured half into my coffee cup, warmed it in the microwave for a minute, and by golly, this stuff isn’t too bad now…<span> </span>Kinda yummy.</p><p class="MsoNormal">12:01 – I think I’m going to make it!<span> </span>I had a good workout, then grabbed the green gunk, which had chilled to a state of being a slushy, and chugged it while driving to Costco.<span> </span>Made it through Costco to pick up dog’s medication without temptation...although I forgot the other item I was there to get, SmartWater.</p><p class="MsoNormal">My stomach is growling so I’m going to indulge in the pineapple stuff.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I think I’m going to make it.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Headache is even mostly gone.</p><p class="MsoNormal">1:57p.<span> </span>- Still doing pretty, pretty, pretty good.<span> </span>Just took delivery of the juices for Sunday and Monday.<span> </span>Drank the pineapple stuff and had a wonderful, warm bath and am relaxing and doing homework.<span> </span>My stomach is telling me it’s hungry so I may open another bottle and venture on.<span></span>Or, perhaps I’ll have some green tea.<span> </span>Or, maybe, I’ll have a handful of almonds, wait, no, not allowed, or just a nibble of popcorn, wait, no.<span> </span>I may have to lock myself out of the kitchen.</p><p class="MsoNormal">3:52 p.m.<span> </span>– I needed SOMETHING to chew, so I dashed out to the market and got some organic celery which helped me finish off 3/4 of another bottle of the green stuff. <span></span>Don’t judge, celery is on the approved ‘cheat sheat’.. Feeling okay.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Calculating the remainder of my day.<span> </span>1 bottle of the lemonade with cayenne, 1/2 bottle of the cashew ‘milk’, 1 bottle of the green stuff.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I might make it.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>DAY THREE</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhag_c5-1ePBg8GTSUNEW8F7oTEkbhRUaqJy8Jdwv1X0JZNdkqvd6vdTO4zPWAIp4T36RkK3m283nXhUr6jzg4BTDAqXdsB7yBcc7zy-b3jT7sKw8CFhlpyfUeRfeUrP7gVe0oDs7hQ9bzV/s1600/ltblb.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhag_c5-1ePBg8GTSUNEW8F7oTEkbhRUaqJy8Jdwv1X0JZNdkqvd6vdTO4zPWAIp4T36RkK3m283nXhUr6jzg4BTDAqXdsB7yBcc7zy-b3jT7sKw8CFhlpyfUeRfeUrP7gVe0oDs7hQ9bzV/s200/ltblb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692343170188778498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 200px; " /></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">DREAMS!!!</p><p class="MsoNormal">I turned out the lights one hour after consuming what I could of the remaining bottles of juice, then had such difficulty falling asleep.<span> </span>I wasn’t exactly troubled, but I was wakeful. I did my best to snuggle into the pillows and covers of my delicious bed and enter dreamland, and when I did what dreams!<span> </span>Dreams of clarity. I’m not going to get all mystical and stuff, that’s not what I’m talking about.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I had dreams that essentially stripped away all the b.s. that I tell myself about the situations, relationships and realities of my life that cause me pain. Heartbreaking scenes, but scenes that enable me to shed tears and move forward.<span> </span>Away went the cover-ups based on excuses, optimism and forgiveness.<span> </span>One and one was equaling two.<span> </span>Into my dream popped a quote that I’d encountered the day before: “Trust….but verify.”<span> </span>I realized the admonition to ‘turn the other cheek’ doesn’t mean to then allow the offender back into your circle of intimates.<span> </span>Forgive and forget, sure, but don’t forget everything.<span> </span>Especially those who don’t attempt to make amends for the pain they cause.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I won’t go so far as to say I’m a changed person, but I’ve been given a wake up call…while sleeping.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Irony.</p><p class="MsoNormal">When I awoke, I got on the scale and have dropped 2.5 lbs since starting, which I’m well aware will climb back on as soon as I return to eating solid food.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I sipped water and a bit of my leftover day two lemonade and will now plant my feet and throw back some more of the green stuff.<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>I’m reminded that today is New Years Eve.<span> </span>Because I’m imbibing only juice, my sister encourages me to provide my services as a designated driver.<span> </span>However, if I’m to ring in the new year with a champagne glass filled with green gunk over ice, I’d rather do it in my jammies.</p><p class="MsoNormal">BTW:<span> </span>I’m getting kind of used to this green juice.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>DAY FOUR</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzbvAKrUbOH_GbGhFyZ-i2ghksjgGQqNKgvS870AAA5rBhjQMWJB0r10jBfUl0cPBhedffgiCRTpt5676lAHUlvoFdXOL8kgmsHhwp9Mk74Y2SmQawW56AQ10dqcYIwda7ViYiVmN-cqz/s1600/IMG_0179.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzbvAKrUbOH_GbGhFyZ-i2ghksjgGQqNKgvS870AAA5rBhjQMWJB0r10jBfUl0cPBhedffgiCRTpt5676lAHUlvoFdXOL8kgmsHhwp9Mk74Y2SmQawW56AQ10dqcYIwda7ViYiVmN-cqz/s320/IMG_0179.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693062528651306994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 320px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">A FINE FINISH</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjXym4j2t5X4HTM9oLmk_ec_E0HH4r5d_lAMcWRh4KSKusZOxdzYBZRE9WPsP5HXVDepXU2imvzW8IAwsYUv9cLIJR3qsLEe5ky8cbDb9JR2dP4wjXr1m20qC8k3ltpYW0Ur_wtjkFNJ-/s1600/DSC_9581_2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjXym4j2t5X4HTM9oLmk_ec_E0HH4r5d_lAMcWRh4KSKusZOxdzYBZRE9WPsP5HXVDepXU2imvzW8IAwsYUv9cLIJR3qsLEe5ky8cbDb9JR2dP4wjXr1m20qC8k3ltpYW0Ur_wtjkFNJ-/s320/DSC_9581_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693807389395507874" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Four</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I've dropped just an additional .2 pounds … must have been the cucumber slices….</p><p class="MsoNormal">Happy New Year 2012…I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and fly…</p><p class="MsoNormal">Granddaughter day.<span> I battled the t</span>emptation to taste her mac and cheese to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and my habit of licking peanut butter off the knife after making her peanut butter crackers.<span> </span>I managed to stop myself each time.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Five</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Weight down another pound.</p><p class="MsoNormal">One day to go.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I toyed with the idea of introducing some solid food today, like fish over greens with some vinaigrette, but decided to tough it out.<span> </span>It's totally crazy but I have actually enjoyed each of the three bottles of green juice. I'm feeling a little more hungry than the previous days which I've curbed with celery and green tea.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Benefits so far:<span> </span>my sense of smell seems keener again (in public bathrooms, will that be a good thing?)<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Six</b>, That’s finished, what’s next?</p><p class="MsoNormal">Yay!<span> </span>I did it, I really did it. I woke up with a flatter abdomen (4.5 lbs lighter) and I’m not craving coffee. And I’m clear and happy.<span> </span>It’s like my appetite has been reset and I intend to take advantage of it by carefully choosing each and everything that goes in my mouth.<span> </span>My first day of solid foods included an apple, coffee sweetened with agave and soy creamer, salmon patty over bitter greens, an Arnold Palmer and some popcorn.<span> </span>No diet pepsi, no meat, no wine, no crackers, no bread.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I celebrated by spending time at the beach with my granddaughter and my friend.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">(The next day I’d only gained back half a pound.)</p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">It’s all good.<span> </span>It’s a New Year.<span> </span>It’s going to be a healthy 2012.<span> </span>I hope you are taking care of yourself too!</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-15613182477011518032011-12-27T11:42:00.000-08:002011-12-27T11:48:38.916-08:00CLEANSE!There were so many heartbreaking and disturbing events in my life in the year 2011 that I've decided to cleanse myself of the worst in preparation for a nicer, happier 2012 by undergoing a 5-day juice cleanse. In addition, I'm going to have a body scrub to scrape away the toxins from the body's largest organ, the skin. The different colored juices arrive tomorrow and I'll keep you all posted. It should be interesting, I've never had green juice before, but they assure me it will be delightful. Better than champagne I'm sure!Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-68325633939348177002011-12-24T08:49:00.001-08:002011-12-24T08:50:46.540-08:00I wish you all a holly, jolly Christmas!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6fgBgjCiuuGC9vWzjMex0abyhDl4oRIqWBuWKyGvB5VeetZLrbdMK1UCDWOCe3wduUByKrPXiDmfM56NtFIBCijBLjHPBCUTkXDFfszTHKIhRHaY5_R-vaeAxkKdsmSnOm0Lip2MWoow/s1600/DSC_9421.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6fgBgjCiuuGC9vWzjMex0abyhDl4oRIqWBuWKyGvB5VeetZLrbdMK1UCDWOCe3wduUByKrPXiDmfM56NtFIBCijBLjHPBCUTkXDFfszTHKIhRHaY5_R-vaeAxkKdsmSnOm0Lip2MWoow/s320/DSC_9421.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689738320256432226" /></a>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-57168423456087063482011-12-05T18:58:00.000-08:002011-12-05T19:01:41.434-08:00Very rarely am I a fan of poetryFrom the New Yorker this week:<div><br /></div><div>ONE-MAN CIRCUS</div><div><br /></div><div>Juggler of hats and live hand grenades.</div><div>Tumbler, contortionist, impersonator,</div><div>Living statue, wire walker, escape artist,</div><div>Amateur ventriloquist and mind reader.</div><div><br /></div><div>Doing all that without being detected</div><div>While leisurely strolling down the street,</div><div>buying a newspaper on some corner,</div><div>Bending down to pat a blind man's dog,</div><div><br /></div><div>Or sitting across from your wife at dinner,</div><div>While she prattles about the weather,</div><div>Concentrating instead on a trapeze in your head,</div><div>The tigers pacing angrily in their cage.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Charles Simic</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907157688223566605.post-56894984301361982292011-11-10T13:22:00.001-08:002011-11-21T14:08:26.456-08:00Something completely differentLet's play 'Name That Character':<div><br /></div><div>Liar<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">,</span> Cowardly, Selfish, Ungrateful, Unreliable, Vain, Spoiled, Exploiter, Duplicitous, Dishonest, Male, Lazy, Conniving, Passive-aggressive, Egotistical. Thoughts?</div><div><br /></div><div>For assistance in defining the characters in your life or fiction, go to:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.epiguide.com/ep101/writing/charchart.html">http://www.epiguide.com/ep101/writing/charchart.html</a></div>Lori C. Aronsohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01395425246637864589noreply@blogger.com0