The Flintstones, The Beatles, and A Day in My Life

You know the song. 
Feel free to sing along, then stick around for MY version !

A Day in the Life  ( Lennon/McCartney )

"Woke up, fell out of bed,
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup,
And looking up I noticed I was late.
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Found my way upstairs and had a smoke,
Somebody spoke and I went into a dream

I read the news today oh boy
Four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire
And though the holes were rather small
They had to count them all
Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall."

I'd love to turn you on
http://beatleslyrics.tripod.com/67-70.htm#06

MY version . . . .

 A Day in My Life  ( Wynn )


(Alarm) woke me up (too early), got out of bed
Pat my hand across (my son's) head ("Time to get up!" I said.)
Found my way downstairs, woke up my daughter, too.
Said, " Look at the clock." and  "Don't be late."

Fed the dog, and let him out.   
Made breakfast (and lunch) in seconds flat
Found my way over to my coffee cup,
Somebody spoke.............my youngest son is up. 


( This is the part where I am humming,
               and dancing around the room
         in a hippy-like fashion )  


I (read) the news (online) today.
Four thousand reasons not to leave the house.
But there is good news, after all
The Flintstones celebrate
                                                       
Happy fif -tieth "Have a yabba doo time", Bedrock fa-mi-LEEEEEEEEEEEE

I'd LoOOve toOOO TuUUUUUUUrn YoUUUUUUu oOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Nuts



Charlie (Before)


Several weeks ago, my dog, Charlie,
was neutered.



I am tempted to take him back
to the veterinarian.

    
    


      "You need to put his nuts back in," I would tell them.




While the leg humping  has subsided,

he is WAY more hyper than he was before -

like a yappy little tasmanian devil, constantly tearing through the house.


                                         
                                         He is driving me " NUTS " ! ! !


Charlie (After)



Segway or Sedgeway ? ? ?

Sedgeway or Segway ?

My 14 year old son,
     who receives up-to-the minute news updates on his electronic,
hand held device, always keeps me informed of the latest news. 

Yesterday, he told me that the owner of Segway, James W. Heselden,
     apparently died, while using the apparatus. 

According to my son, he fell off a cliff.

My first question was,

     "Why was he driving a Sedgeway near a cliff?"

     "It's SEGway, not SEDGEway," my son corrected.

     "Are you SURE?" I asked.

     "YES," my son said, with great confidence.

BUT, I was curious, 
     so I decided to do some research. 

Segway, or Sedgeway?  That is the question.

I typed "Sedgeway or Segway" into Google.com,
     and it seemed that I was not the only one confused by the matter. 

As I scrolled down the page of links associated with the word,
     the question "What is the correct spelling and/or pronunciation?"
came up again, and again . . . and again.

Most seemed to think that it should be 
          pronounced SEGway.

There is a Segway.com.

There is also a Sedgeway.net. 

Interestingly enough, however, all of the stories found on Sedgeway.net
     use the spelling of
                     S-e-g-w-a-y.

At this point, I was leaning toward Segway,
                                    but I was not quite there. . . YET.

One word that kept popping up (during my research) was . . .
                                           SEGUE.

Coming from a family of musicians, I should be familiar with this term,
     as it is related to musical scores, and means
"to play into the following movement without a break."  (World English Dictionary) 

SEGUE can also be used in non-music related (every day life) terms,
                                             as in the following definition :

Segue - (n) any smooth, uninterrupted transition from one thing to another. 
                                                                                     (Dictionary.com)


Getting closer, still.

Then, I stumbled upon this website, which provided the following information : 
 
     "When you shift to a new topic or activity, you segue. Many people unfamiliar with the unusual Italian spelling of the word misspell it as “segway.” This error is being encouraged by the deliberately punning name used by the manufacturers of the Segway Human Transporter".

http://www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/segway.html

Ah HA! 

By (not to be confused with "bye") JAMES,  I think we've GOT it! 

So, in conclusion, it seems the proper pronunciation and spelling
      (based on the notion that "seg" comes from "segue") is . . .

                                                  SEGWAY

and, is yet another victim of improper usage, for the benefit of marketing. 

If this is still not clear to you,
     think about the popular fast food restaurant chain, DUNKIN DONUTS.

The correct spelling of DONUTS 
     is D-O-U-G-H-N-U-T-S.

Speaking of which,
     I think I will hop on my Seg(ue)way
           and stop in for a chocolate glazed, on my way to work.

*  Side note - My spell check does not think that Segway OR Sedgeway
                               is the correct spelling ; )  
     Also, all kidding aside,
        my heart goes out to the family and friends of James W. Heselden.

                         http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBWXWu8aRps

Sitting at the DMV

"Three hours is a LONG TIME to spend staring at the back of someone's head."  ~ anonymous

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday evening, I sat down in front of my calendar to plan out my week.  It looked like Wednesday would be the "lucky day".

After an appointment in Fairfax, I would go (like the game of LIFE) directly to

                THE DEPARTMENT OF MOTOR VEHICLES.

I wrote it down in ink, so that I would not forget, and vowed not to come up with excuses not to go.

My day went, as planned.
I parked the car at the mall, just outside of JCPenney - the closest entrance to the DMV.

As I approached the long hallway, leading up to the "room", or what I like to refer to as the "human trap", I could already see the back of the line.

"Not good," I thought.

Whenever the line turns the corner, through the double doors, and out of sight, there is a good chance of being contained in there for HOURS.  

I took my place at the end of the line, and stood there, feeling like a "lab rat". 
The only difference was that I knew what was coming.    

When I reached the front, I presented the lady at the counter with my documentation.
She handed me a ticket with a number on it, as well as a form to fill out. 

I walked over to the table decorated with clipboards, and while I reached out to pick the perfect one, the security guard gave me the "suspicious look-over". 

          Maybe it was the temporary henna tattoo on my left forearm.


I grabbed the PERFECT clipboard, surveyed the rows and rows of DESIGNER chrome and plastic blue chairs, and found a suitable enough place to sit.  

With my lucky number at my side, I filled out the form.......................and waited. 

And waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, AND waited.

Tick, tock, tick.

Two designer blue chairs over, I noticed the ticket number started with the same letter. 

     "Apparently, you and I are soul mates," I commented (holding up my number), laughing at myself,
as that could have easily been interpreted as a pick up line.

He was much younger than I, and fortunately, had a sense of humor. 
He recognized that we were two victims, trying to find a way to pass the time, as well as ease our shared misery.

     "This is my second trip in two weeks," he said, "and the first time, I was here for THREE HOURS." 

     "Wow," I responded.  "Well, at least you brought a book."

     "I learned from last time," he said, smiling.  "Three hours is a LONG TIME to be staring at the back of someone's head." 

He paused and continued,

      ".....................and the worst of it is that I just signed a lease for an apartment in D.C., so I get to do this ALL OVER again!" 

     "OHhhhhh, I am SO sorry to hear that.  I am SURE that D.C.'s system is going to be MUCH more efficient," I commented (with sarcasm).   

Just then, the voice on the intercom called out my new friend's number. 

     "Good Luck!" he said....................walking away.   

                                                   Leaving me Behind.      

                                                                           To suffer.            

                                                                                        Alone.
 

     "Some soul mate HE turned out to be," I thought. 

Somewhere behind me, in the sea of blue chairs, someone was being serenaded with the "Happy Birthday" song, temporarily transporting me to a more joyful place.

After waiting two and a half hours, my number was finally called.

     "This is IT!" I celebrated.  I felt like jumping up in the air, like in that 1980's car commercial (see link below), long ago.   

I could see the ending in sight, as I preceded toward the counter with all of my paperwork.

     "I will be right back," said the DMV employee, after looking over my paperwork.

     "THAT IS NOT A GOOD SIGN," I thought.

She came back quickly, and handed me another form.

     "Here," she said, "You need to take this home and fill it out,

               T -  H -  E -  N         C -  O -  M -  E          B -  A - C - K."

Her words were like confusing background noise in my head.  They came out in slow motion, and seemed to come from way in the back of her throat, out of a loooooong, dark corridor. 

I stood there staring at her, in disbelief. 

"I CAN SEE YOUR LIPS MOVING, BUT I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING ! ! !"
 (is what I was thinking). 

In a bit of a daze, I turned around and walked out.  I was tired, frustrated, and hungry.

Feeling the pain of my DMV soul mate, I said to myself,

     "Yep.  Two and a half hours is a LONG TIME to be staring at the back of someone's head.  Guess I need to find myself a good book,"

                      and I took my henna tattoo clad self...................in search of some food. 

                            http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgoTXkXqxbA









 

Random Thoughts, Moments, and Observations, All Upon a Rainy Monday.............

De Ja Vu

Brushing my teeth, this morning, I thought to myself, "Wait a minute.  Didn't I JUST do this?"

While it had been six hours, it seemed like just 5 minutes ago.

Milk

My 11 year old insisted that I have a talk with my 16 year old about her new hobby -
                writing the grocery list on the sliding glass door with a dry erase marker.

I, who actually see it as a brilliantly creative use of space (aside from a fingerprint collecting device) said,

      " There are way too many things to be stressed out about, and that's not one of them. "

Then, I picked up the dry erase marker and wrote the word "milk" on the glass door.

The Smell of Coffee

My 11 year old walked in the kitchen and said,

" Something smells like a skunk!"

A few seconds later............................

"Oh.  It's your coffee." 

Personally, I always thought it smelled a bit like..........................pot. 

 Stuck?

Ever feel like life just has you feeling..........................STUCK ? 

And depending on the size of the wad of gum that your shoe is stuck to, you could be stuck for a REALLY LONG time. 

You pull and pull to try to break free, but no matter how hard you try, you just stand there....................STUCK!

Until you finally get smart enough,

                        and pull your foot out of the shoe. 

Fried Fish

Don't be fooled! 

Even if the menu at the Chinese restaurant says you have a CHOICE of either STEAMED fish

or FRIED fish, what it really means is that you have a choice between

FRIED fish................
                               
                        and FRIED fish.

So, would you like your fish fried ? ? ?

I'm BACK!

EXPECT MORE................................. !!!!!!

                                     stories,

         life observations,

                                      thoughts,

              and comments...............

                             ON MY BLOG this week. 

My blog problems appear to be resolved !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Working on it!

Working out the glitches, but I am getting closer......................I think???

Experiencing Technical Difficulties

I am experiencing technical difficulties on my blog!  Hopefully, it won't last long.  Please stay tuned!

"Monday, In Disguise"

     Yesterday, I walked into a Whole Foods where, throughout the aisles of
organic produce, grass fed beef, and  holistic vitamins,
there could be heard the lovely sounds of a vocalist,
accompanied by an acoustic guitar.              

     At first, I thought,
"I am really impressed by the clarity of the speakers in this place,"
and then, as I was standing in the self check-out line,

I realized the music was LIVE.

There, in the corner of the store,
just beyond the grocery carts and the
reusable, cloth grocery bags, was the vocalist,

singing and strumming away on the strings of her guitar.

THEN, I thought,

"This doesn't FEEL like a Monday.  Did I mistakenly send the kids to school on a Saturday?"

                                                                                                                                                                      

Missing "Back to School Night"

My name is Leslie, and I missed two Back to School Nights this week.

There.

 I said it.

(sigh of relief)

That may sound silly to you, but there is this notion (as a mom), that if you do not attend every one of your child's school functions...................you are a bad parent.   

Do I feel that way about myself? 

Absolutely not, but it has taken me some time to get to that point where I can say,
              
                     "It's ok.  I'm doing the best that I can.  It's ok."

Besides, if I were to tally up all of the Back to School Nights (including preschool)  that I have attended over the last thirteen years,  I think my record would speak for itself. 

That being said, I don't think my kids are going to look back on their childhood and say,

     "I remember that mom went to every school function there ever was." 

At the same time, I don't think they will remember the ones that I missed.  

As it turns out, I missed the first one because of a conflicting appointment, and I knew that I would have ample opportunities to meet my child's teacher, in the near future.   

I missed the second one because, due to the unfolding of events during that week, I felt that my presence was much more valued sitting across the dinner table from my sixteen year old daughter, than it would have been meeting her teachers at Back to School night. 

I learned more about her during our dinner conversation, than I would have, sitting in a classroom full of parents.

She and I BOTH needed that time.   

Hopefully, my kids will remember times like these, for more important than attending school functions, is being present for your children.........................when they need you. 

My name is Leslie, and I missed two Back to School nights this week....................

but I had the most wonderful dinner with my daughter.   

 

"Leslie's Place"

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I owned my own restaurant...............

It would be small and charming, with barstools at the counter that swivel, like the ones in an old fashioned diner.  The seat cushions - red leather, with shiny, chrome holding them up.

The sign at the front door would read:

              "Open for Breakfast and Lunch (Your mom is expecting you home for dinner)" 



sauted garlic, mushrooms, and spinach

 It would be a neighborhood restaurant - tucked in, somewhere unnoticed, but the regulars would know where to go to find it.  

The menu would be simple. 

Eggs ordered just about any way you like it - hard boiled, soft boiled, poached, fried, scrambled, scrambled with................

garlic, onions, olives, artichokes,
mushrooms, tomatoes, potatoes, peppers,
spinach, cilantro, basil, cheese.   

Is it an omelette you would prefer? 

MY specialty! 

All fresh, organic ingredients. 
Vegetables and herbs sauted in olive oil (and just a tease of butter), until tender and golden brown. 
Add in the eggs, and watch the ingredients consummate. 
Just a sprinkle of cheese to finish it off, and .......................voila! 

The perfect combination of flavor and color on a plate. 

Add a nice glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and a good strong cup of coffee (served in one of a collection of unique coffee mugs), and you are about to start your day in a perfect way.

...........and for lunch? 

Eggs and omelettes will be served all day, but if it is a fresh salad or a sandwich, served on your choice of  bread, or a hot cup of homeade soup you would prefer.....................we have those, too. 

Just a few to choose from, but all "out of this world". 

Is it pasta you like? 

Order the "Pasta with...............", and add in any ingredients you would like.

Not to mention, our fresh rotisserie chicken, roasted daily, which can be added to your "scrambled with....", your "pasta with................", your sandwich, or your salad.    

Can't make up your mind? 

Order the "Leslie"...................and you can be certain that we will bring you something good. 

What's the name of this joint? 

I am tossing a few ideas around -

     "The Odd Egg",

          "Scrambled Egg",

               "The Egg Shack",

                    "The Chicken or the Egg", 

But for now, while it is only in my head,
    
     I think the most appropriate title would be, simply........................

                                                                                         "Leslie's Place". 

 

The "Not So Discounted" Rate

Me and Charlie - before. 



 Last Thursday, like a responsible pet owner, I took my little guy, Charlie, to the veterinarian for his "procedure" - the dirty deed, the necessary act................snip, snip. 

This was the first time that I had experienced being the adult "in charge" of making such a decision.  Our last male dog was adopted, and the animal rescue agency had already taken care of "the problem".

I felt really bad, taking him in.

Little did he know, as I opened the heavy, glass door to the veterinary clinic,  that when we would exit through that very same door the next morning, his leg humping days would be over. 

Little did he know that his beach romance with the old girl, Snickers, or his romping around with Dexter, the Jack Russell Terrier (and yes, a MALE dog ) would be his last. 

Even his stuffed lion, with whom Charlie has been quite intimate, may start to feel neglected.

Before making the appointment for Charlie, I shopped around for estimates.  The quote that my current veterinarian had given me was quite high, and I wanted to look at other options.  A friend of mine suggested  contacting the SPCA (Society of the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals), to possibly receive a discounted rate, which I did.  SPCA referred me to Spay, Inc., who gave me a list of participating veterinarians, with discounted rates.  It looked like I would be saving a couple hundred dollars.

When I brought Charlie into the vet, that Thursday morning, the young girls at the front desk were quite friendly and attentive.  One of the girls whisked Charlie away, to begin all of the pre-surgery tests, while the other began pleasantly putting forms in front of my face. 

I say "forms", but they were more like "menus".

The first "menu" offered the different types of pre-surgery blood work.  I can't remember the specific words that were used to describe the choices, but to me, it read like this:

Choice A - You care A LOT about your pet...............$$$ 

Choice B -  You care VERY LITTLE about your pet...............$

Choice C -  YOU COULD CARE LESS about your pet................$0.00     

The second "menu" offered the different options of sedatives and fluid amounts provided to your pet, during surgery.

Again, this is what it looked like, to me:

Choice A - You care A LOT about your pet, and would not want him to be in any pain......................$$$

Choice B - You care about your pet, but are willing to bet that he will not need any extra fluids or       sedatives............................................................................................$

Choice C -  You not only could CARE LESS about your pet, but would like your pet to be TORTURED.....................................$0.00


I stared at these papers for a good five minutes, at least, realizing that my "discounted rate", was about to go up with each signature, and check of a box.  The important thing was that I be able to walk away from those forms with a clear conscience, so I made my choices......................... and walked away.

The next day, when I walked through the heavy, glass door to the veterinary clinic, anxious to see my little guy, the friendly and attentive young girls (with new faces) greeted me with.................. my bill.    

At least I was prepared. 

When I had left the day before, I laughed to myself, realizing that I could end up spending as much money with the "discounted rate", as I would have with the original quote that my veterinarian had given me.

As I looked past all of the numbers on the page, quickly finding the one next to "total", I smirked. 

I saved a total of...........................$50.00.

Just as I finished paying the bill, Charlie came barreling around the corner to greet me, looking and behaving no differently than the day before.  So much so, that I had to check to make sure that they had performed  the procedure at all.

Sure enough, he was definitely "lacking" between the legs.

Poor guy. 

We said our good-byes, and exited through the same heavy, glass door, through which we had entered, where Charlie quickly squated, taking what appeared to be the longest, most pleasurable pee..............................ever,

RIGHT THERE ON THE PAVEMENT.

As I watched the giant puddle...............growing around him, I realized two things: 

1)   He must have been holding in all of those fluids that he had received during surgery, and .............

2)  I wonder if I should go back in and tell someone that Charlie had just peed dollar signs all over the pavement.   





Something, out of Nothing

Good Morning, and Happy Tuesday!

What's good about Tuesday? 

Monday is out of the way.  Time to get my head out of the fog, and focus on what needs to be done today, and for the rest of the week.   

Breakfast of the day?

2 egg omelette with frest garlic, spinach, and a sprinkling of feta cheese.  What a beautiful display of colors, and delicious, as well.    

Note to self - Out of oj.  Trip to the grocery store, on the horizon.  Omelette not the same, without it.   

Brilliant idea of the day (so far)?

Create a musical called, "Facebook LIVE!", where the characters sing random profile statements.  This could be (seriously)........................hilarious! 

Try it, yourself.

Scroll down your facebook page, and sing every profile statement that you wrote.

Imagine this....................on stage.

This could be...............FUNNY.   

Funny observation of the day (so far )? 

A phone conversation with a friend (who is talking from her car), is interrupted by "The GPS Voice".

Friend:  "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you.  My car was talking to me."   

--------------------------------------

This was my attempt to make an entry in my blog, even though I have nothing to write about.  Well, I guess it's not..................nothing, but I am not really sure that it's ...................something. 

I will let you know if something MORE comes along.

Shopping for School Supplies

EXPANDING FILE, LETTER SIZE WITH 7 POCKETS.
EXPANDING FILE, LETTER SIZE WITH 7 POCKETS.
EXPANDING FILE, LETTER SIZE WITH 7 POCKETS.

Every year. 

Every damn year. 

Every damn year there is ONE item on the kids' school supply list that is IMPOSSIBLE to find, sending me on a mad scavenger hunt - and believe me, by the end of it, I am MAD. 

The thing is, I am not the type of person to let a little "7 pocket file" get me bent out of shape. 

"Looks like they are OUT of 7 pocket files," I would say, "Guess what?  We will come back in a couple of days."

To which, the response IS.....................

 "We HAVE to have it TODAY!  My teacher SAID!"

MY TEACHER SAID.
MY TEACHER SAID. 
MY TEACHER SAID.     

I love teachers.

I think teachers are wonderful. 

In fact, I come from a family of teachers.

I am also pretty smart, and I know that MOST teachers are pretty reasonable. 

Teacher :    "If your mom can't find the "7 pocket file" at the store because (guess what?)  EVERYONE ELSE IN THE COUNTY HAS BOUGHT THEM, then it is okay to bring it in..........
as soon as you can."

Yet, somehow, there is always a small part of me that believes it when my child says,

"MY TEACHER SAID!"

.......................sending me to Staples, Target, CVS, Office Depot,
and my least of all favorite stores (sorry) WALMART,

and that same small part of me (even though I love teachers) also believes that teachers everywhere get together and come up with some "KNOWINGLY IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND, RANDOM ITEM" every year to put on the school supply list, and then they sit back with their "I love my teacher" coffee mugs............................................................and watch.

I think I just created the next reality tv show.

OH, AND BY THE WAY ..............

Do you remember that Staples commercial (see link below) that came out years ago?  The one where the dad is skipping along, shopping for school supplies with his kids, while the song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" plays on the intercom (or maybe, it's just in his head) ????

PARENTS SHOPPING FOR SCHOOL SUPPLIES DO NOT LOOK LIKE THAT.

We looked stressed. 

We look tired. 

We look annoyed.

We look frustrated.

We look like we will do bodily harm to whomever comes between us and that
EXPANDING FILE, LETTER SIZE WITH 7 POCKETS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Next year, I am not going to fall for it. 

I am going to send my supply list back to the teacher, with the EXPANDING FILE, LETTER SIZE WITH 7 POCKETS................ circled,

and a note that says,

                                                                    "Nice try ; ) !" 

Staples commercial -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPIIMbG9R4w




 

Afterthought of a Gypsy

A friend of mine reminded me that it was actually Johnny Depp's character who was actually the Gypsy in "Chocolat",  and not Juliette Binoche's.

While this is true, she was drawn to the Gypsies, and I believe that she felt that in her HEART, she WAS a Gypsy, just as I am in mine. 

"I Am A Gypsy!"

Today was one of those days when I had an overflow of thoughts and ideas.  Some days, it amazes me, how many there are.  There is not enough time in the day, week, month, year - to follow through with them all., but I am working on trying to (at least) follow through with SOME of them. 

Having this blog helps me. 

To give you an example:

       In my fifteen minute shower ALONE today, I came up with the idea to give to a charitable organization for every person who becomes a follower on my blog, learn as much as I can from my former photography teacher/employer about studio photography (any willing subjects are welcome), buy a beach house and start a business as a cage-free dog boarding facility in the Outer Banks, NC, start a business called "Becoming Me Photography" and start out by coming to people's homes and taking photos for their holiday photo cards, and last, but not least, it came to me -
                                                                                            THE CHARACTER I CAN MOST RELATE TO IN A MOVIE I HAVE SEEN IS ................... (drum roll)..........................................Juliette Binoche's character, Vianne Rocher,  in "Chocolat". 

And it has nothing to do with the fact that Johnny Depp was in it (although, it does not hurt - at least, I don't THINK it does).

Moving along......................

It is because I see so much of myself in her.

Feeling like the outcast. 

Not understanding the reasons for the rules, or why people behave the way that they do, and being strong enough to stay true to my own feelings, despite what other people might say or think.   

Feeling quite vulnerable, yet, at the same time, having extreme faith in myself.    

Vianne is a Gypsy, and though, many of the definitions refer to Gypsies as being originally from India, moving from place to place (job to job)....................

 and though, I have lived in the same area my entire life...................

 the part that I can relate to the most is the "unconventional lifestyle".

A Gypsy does not conform to someone else's lifestyle simply because that's the way that everyone else  lives.  On the contrary, I think that a Gypsy would question............."why?"       

I am such a Gypsy.  I really am!  I am a Gypsy, at heart.

My Dad once said to me, "It must be difficult being you, sometimes," and he would be right. 

The reason is because I see everything the way that everyone sees it.  I feel everything the way that everyone feels it.  I look at every angle..................every perspective.   

That can be exhausting, at times, but also, extremely rewarding. 

It can be draining, yet also, empowering.     

And in the end, I do what I believe is the right thing to do.  Even if it goes against what EVERYONE else believes in. 

A Gypsy must always stay true to herself. 

I am a Gypsy! 

................and a photographer, future beach home owner, dog boarding facility owner, and philanthropist.

"Late Night Fiesta"

It was a beautiful night.

A great night to stop in at the sound-side cantina. 

Many stayed quite late, partying until the early morning hours. 

When the barkeep called, "Last drink!",

they were still sucking them down.

When the sun awoke, though the spirits were boarded, 

      and the music was silent,

there lay evidence of the previous night's festivities -

  
                   The ones who could not make it home.