Ringo meditated his way into his “80’s.”

A relic, in the pantheon of Rock is how he Rolled.

The ever present thought of aging, rapidly taking its toll.

Rounding out numbers a blessing, yes privileged.

The progression our story at hand.

A series of Turkish soap operas, The Beauty Queen of Israel, and Fauda.

We marvel at the talent, the brand.

Moving slower as time moves more quickly.

Love watching the shows on Demand.

Our mistakes, our misfortunes our loses.

All mixed right into to the fold.

A lifetime of lessons through falling.

Getting up, while we brush off the story untold.

Reevaluation a constant envoy.

Of the people who get in our way.

Our inventory of “friends” going forward.

Positioned center stage on display.

Primordial lessons of kindness.

Comes, first second and third.

And so who will make you do push-ups?

In lieu of cheering you along.

Get rid of the the flies in your picnic

Hold tight to the words in your song. Amen!

Just do it now, is our motto as we are reflecting back on the year just lived.

Some days our get up and go is pro forma. Our time to make the donuts occurs in a knee jerk fashion. Some days our knee just jerks. Our Bubby Chicken, for those in the know, phrased the difficult times with “just look away mamala.”

Oh Bubby we believe now more then ever that your schmaltz, more than just a pinch of salt and sugar laden food added wisdom to your 95 years.

You didn’t exercise, but you never sat down. You worked the majority of your life and when you stopped formally working you worked at whatever you did. As you gathered your loved ones around the table, your emotional nutrition sustained us and your cooking created memories that still linger on. We talk about your baking as treasures.

Next week my old friend Linda from 5th grade is giving me a baking lesson. She is handing down a brownie recipe from her mother. L’dor V’dor.

After school when we would hang at her house her mother would treat us to her baked goods and a tall glass of milk.
I remember sharing stories with you about how Linda welcomed me into her group of friends. You taught me the expression “gutte neshema.”
She was my first one.

How lucky my sisters and cousins were to have Our Bubby Chicken. So at this time of year, as we look forward to a New Year, pray for forgiveness and remember our ancestors, why not exhume your Grandma, Grammy or Bubby memories. Hanging with her babies and watching them grow into themselves was her Pilates, her group therapy and our legacy. So Bub, here’s to our days gone by. We carry you in our hearts and tapping into your Sechel gives us reasons to believe, especially when we lose our way.

When we played musical chairs and the music stopped, you pulled over one extra chair so we all stayed in the game. And by the way we now spend more time “looking the other way” as we pull over one more chair. May your neshama have an Aliyah, Bub. B’H.

Wine and cheese, yes please.

Babka and decaf sure.

Stoli and pretzel splits – now you got us going.

We think we’re going to like this.

We’ll stick around for more.

Tennis and golf and canasta and mah jongg.

We’ll sit at tables and think -we could get along.

A bagel, a schmear.

Some sushi and sake.

We’re on a roll.

Maybe knock hockey.

Wiser by choice.

A flu shot indeed.

A trip to the Sawgrass outlets- a new handbag agreed.

Are we living the dream?

As we binge watch and stream.

Shuffle board and beach passes.

Tuna from Bagel Works.

Up early for Pilates, keep moving good bye kinks, shifting quirks.

Water aerobics and a stretch class or two.

Whoever thought we’d splash on Canoe.

Non-sequiturs strong.

Our parents lives we’re living.

We have no more words, as we are much more forgiving.

Ok, now let’s get going.

We need to go online.

They are taking reservations a month in advance.

Don’t want to miss the early birds while we have the chance.

Vayismir- Could be good!

Game of Bones

Don’t fall the docs all tell us.

Let caution lead the way.

A broken bone
incurs,

Conversations with more to say.

There is no easy fix.

No bandaid lined with salve.

Wearing sensible shoes,

You thought you’d never have.

The bones are the main structure.

From which we dance and play.

The years of “double dutching” so very far away.

So you fix the carpal tunnel.

A slice of life returned.

You can shuffle up the cards.

Feel your finger if it’s burned.

With the femur and the tibia and the humerus intact.

A quick walk around the block.

Once our sprint around the track.

One foot proceeds the other,

Add caution to the mix.

Enjoy this beautiful Sunday.

Leave nothing left to fix.

A chip with a schtickl of cheese,
a dollop of sour cream onion dip, yes please.
Come sip a glass of an 8 ounce pour, a vodka chilled, an olive filled. 

A flat bread a.k.a. bread and cheese -is quite a popular fad. Topped with a variety of veggies and herbs could be good- what could be bad?

So when shifting gears in a community unknown, there is an overwhelming push not to feel alone.

We sign up for some courses, grab a burger at the bar.
Fitting into a groove and playing a card game couldn’t be too far.

We sign up for Pilates, practice long and straight with our eye on the ball.

A real who knew as we are waiting -for that “come join us for a dinner “call.

We need a fourth for canasta, our mj game needs one more.

We grab our card and mojo and dash quickly out the door.

A brand new group of people, a daunting part of life.

With popularity throughout a lifetime and now another slice.

So we set the alarm for 7:00.
Grab our gear to play 9 holes.

They need a 5th for mah jongg, our calling could be close.

As we recalibrate priorities and add grateful to the mix.

Woke up and smelled the coffee, refilled our bag of tricks.

Flipped our myopic vision.
A game is just a game.
Yet all in all it’s social.
Acceptance leads the way.
We hope to be included cause we are here to stay.

On the days before the Jewish New Year your presence in our lives feels even more pronounced. We sit still for a moment and reasonably try to evaluate where we could try harder, embrace change and clean up shop.

We hold on to the lessons that have propelled us into a place with more acceptance and the understanding that our journey is just that. The people in our path who are deceptive are there to help us understand wrong from right. The benevolent, kind and valued “constants” offer us endearments.

One of your long term themes is for patience. We go along at our own pace and hope that our recognition of who needs a leg up grows more keen with time. Our gut is really our mind speaking through our heart. Don’t underestimate a vibe, a sideways look. Eye rolls speak volumes.

When we are pushed to the limit you leave us with the decision to hold tight or compromise and restructure. When we slip up and waiver we look over our shoulder for the feathers, or dimes you drop along our path.

We feel less alone.

There are days we wonder when it’s our turn again for you to come back our way. It’s often during our toughest moments.

And so we wake up early, make the coffee. We look ahead to the “Days of Judgment.” We leave our “judgments” in the recycle bin and know, as long as we work together our backs will be covered. G’mar Chatima Tova.

Season -Take 2

We’ll make our way around the cardroom.
Sit down for a game of play.
In light of so many new faces, we won’t let apprehension get in our way.
How bout grabbing a coffee, meet at the Bistro for lunch?

The season has early beginnings, our timeline unfolds with a crunch.

Have you met a woman named Nancy?
She likes mah jongg with 13 tiles.
As you walk from golf to the locker room, her presence leads with a Smile.

We are sigining up again for the class in Memoir Writing.
One of the hidden secrets at Broken Sound.
We met a group with similar interests. It really was quite profound.

With so many rules on the golf course and lessons to hone our new skill.
Determined to get this game going, they say make of it what you will.

So like meeting people in the cardroom, we won’t let trepidation get in the way.
We’re packing for winter like summer.

Soon we’ll be on our way.

Here’s to meeting up again for season two.
With mojo and anticipation.
Call it a veritable who knew.

We’ll mix in some hope with a wish.
See you at the new restaurant on Yamato.
G-d speed and sealed with a kiss.

Repost with❤️

When the leaves were orange and the living was easy. What does the tooth fairy do with all the teeth? Why do the people in the front of the picture appear so much larger than the people toward the back? Out of the mouths…when life was so mellow. 

We bought our first pair of silk stockings which were to be held up by a stretchy pink and white striped garter belt. We felt so mature. Remembering the days of Ozzie and Harriet, Susan Lucci, Soupy Sales and Wally and The Beav. We really do only have “One Life to Live.”

We re-dialed, after our friends line was busy the first time and screeched with excitement, Conrad Birdie style, over our anticipated coed- girl/boy party that evening in Daren Scott’s basement. We will always miss Daren. 🥲

After we sat under a hot dryer with beer can sized rollers in our hair we brushed away the fumes from our eyes left by Aqua Spray. The decision to curl our hair rather than iron it straight was a good one, our hair came out just right. 

Getting ready “Was” the excitement. Our new madras blouse and alpaca sweater hung prominently in the front of our closet right above our shiny, new cordovan colored weejuns. Bright, new Penny, dated 1969 heads up in place.

A touch of revlon blush, a glimmer of “coffee bean” lipstick proceeded a spritz of Shalimar and we were on our way. 

With dejavu on our breath we can still recall euphorically how it felt when we unbuttoned the wooden clasps that kept our new Pea Coat in tact. 

The boys gathered on one side of the room, as the girls sifted through the 45’s on the other. At this point there was no bottle to spin in sight. Would the Angels sing tonight as our soldier boys danced under the Blue Moon? Wah a Watusi. It’s the dance made for a romance.

The specialty years of pre-teening  encapsulated so many of our trial and error moments. Being in a click helped dissipate the error parts, we were all in it together. We still are- our piece of Good Luck.

We made room for our daydreams laced with Johnny Mathis lyrics and we did get Misty. 

Our Barbie and Ken’s were repositioned and left to fetch for themselves in the back row of our minds. In the “still of the night” we hold tight to the precious  memories that Perry Como knew were those “Magic Moments.” Make it a fun Thursday.

As the G-d forbids came at us in rapid fire succession we honed a new set of skills in the “We’ll get through this Dept.” And…

5 months later we did.

We are finishing up the large sized box of cereal, packing up our summer garb which is now also worn in winter and heading South.

Through the years we toasted at every dinner across a myriad of tables and with oh! so many familiar faces that if and when health became challenging we “could” plow through and realize success. 

Dear G-d thank you for lending us the strength to push aside our petty indifferences, forget about toothpaste caps sitting idle and focus all our positive energy on healing. 

We pray that our chance to learn these life saving lessons becomes incorporated in our gratitude list. You did us a solid in the here’s an opportunity, do with it as you see fit. 

Next Sunday we will celebrate 25 years of marriage.

Ira, you threw your hat in the ring and Hashem returned it refurbished. What a team.

So for today we’ll take the category “Too Good” for a thousand please. B”H.