Category Archives: Great Grand-kids

Sorry Chief – I’m Air Frames


That’s a very British Military way of saying – not my party!

And frankly – I love it. Craig, my daughter’s husband’s father – or as my grand-daughter tells me – her daddy’s daddy – is a retired British Officer – and he taught me this one! Thank you Craig

Back to the car – or as Craig would say – Sorry Chief – I’m Air Frames.

The car is still lying dead on it’s back – despite a momentary glimpse at life after death.

We drove back to Sutton Courtney on Saturday, we had to revisit the rental agency to extend the lease since at that point the car was still dead. They had tested everything they could think of – including replacing some electrical something (Hence the Sorry Chief – I’m Air Frames). Didn’t help.

We met up with Craig and Jan and had a delightful adults only lunch at the Barley Mow. This is a gastronomic Pub that is well worth it’s full bookings and occasional – sorry, no room apologies.

The pub is nestled in a village that if you squint your eyes and ignore the recycling bins is straight out of the 1800’s – maybe the 1600’s for all I know. Thatched roofs on all the brick cottages, narrow roadways, it even has a stream that rambles thru so it can be featured on narrow boat trips. It has everything – including the Barley Mow.

We knew we were in the right place this time because the decor was upper cottage. Dark beams across a white washed ceiling, well spaced tables, lots of tiny rooms that linked up in some strange (is there a map) way – and a lovely fireplace in every room.

We were escorted into the very oldest part of the Barley Mow – a low ceilinged room (under 6’ for SURE – and maybe topping out at 5’8” in places) that featured 4 tables and a lovely roaring fire. Cozy, cute, comfortable – and one hoped – food to match.

Like most gastropubs – the menu was filled with pub classics – fish and chips in several varieties, shrimp scampi and the like – plus oddities like French Onion Soup and Beet Salad – kinda 2022 meets 1920.

I loved the presentation of my fish and chips – I ordered the sweet potato fries, and opted for garden peas over mushy peas – so not truly traditional. But yummy. Even the onion soup was yummy although I don’t think the restaurants in France are going to lose any sleep over it.

The true food highlights were the conversation on how to make Tarter Sauce (never eat with foodies if you don’t want to know those details), and the best Bakewell Tart I’ve had since I’ve been coming to London.

I’m sorry Costa – your commercial offering, while yummy, is not up to this offerings scratch.

We had a nice long leisurely lunch – it’s really pleasant when it’s just adults, something you forget quickly when constantly accompanied by a lovely, and well behaved, but still 5 year old.

Then we checked in on the dead bug. Still dead. So we headed back to London. 2.5 hours later, we arrived in London to be told that the garage had called – and the car was fixed!

Miracle of Miracles!

Turns out that there was a blown fuse. His fix of the obvious electrical whatever (I’m Air Frames remember) didn’t appear to work because the fuse was blown. When that was fixed – the car ran!

We decide that another 4 hour plus drive just isn’t going to happen – so the plan is for Adrienne to take me to Heathrow Monday morning early (I’m heading to Utah next), then drive on to pick up the car.

Best laid plans

This morning we are greeted with an oops – not quite.

Craig – completely helpful soul that he is – decided to walk to the repair shop and get the car. In doing so – he discovered that the cure wasn’t permanent. The fuse had blown again. Three fuses later – and the conclusion is that there is something blowing the fuses.

Ya think?

So bug is still dead. I’m still going to Heathrow on Monday – but when the car will be deemed healthy remains a mystery.

Signing off to do VeriFLY – the newest wrinkle in an already painful flying experience… Can they possibly make it worse?

The Soup Lady

Day 234 – Commandment #6 for Seniors


“On Time” is when you get there.

Look – it’s not my fault I’m moving slower these days – it’s not for lack of trying or of organization – it’s often just a challenge to get my shoes on.

I lie – it’s not about getting the shoes on – it’s about finding all the things I’m supposed to be bringing with me.

Did we always travel with so much ‘junk’? Ok – having to have a Mask is rather new of course – but shoes, keys, phone, wrist watch (which fortunately helps me find my phone..), reading glasses, sun glasses, coat, scarf, hat, gloves, whatever I told whoever I’m going to see – if anyone. I mean the list is endless.

So of course I’m never on time – just gathering all the stuff I need is tough – really tough.

And then there’s the travel time. In Montreal they have torn up our roads so many times it’s virtually impossible to guess if, by some miracle, there’s no construction between me and where I want to go.

The cure – start a LOT earlier. Which given how little sleep I need – it’s not that hard to accomplish at least that part of the job. I can definitely get an early start to most jaunts.

Not that there are that many jaunts these days. And I’m so keen to get in an outing – I’m starting to count just talking a walk on my own as a jaunt. No destination, No path – but getting outside totally counts.

Ok – enough on this topic – Just get over my being late – and don’t fuss at me over it. And don’t worry about me showing up early. I always bring a book on my ipad… (Don’t you just love Libby – the free library lending book app?).

Signing off to set a timer for her next ‘jaunt’- which is going to pick up my adorable grand-daughter from Day Care. Now that’s a jaunt to look forward too. My plan is to pick her up, check out a playground – and then come home to make dinner. And I’m doing my darnedest to make it happen “On Time”.

The Soup Lady

Day 166 – How do you celebrate 50 years of marriage?


Just to set matters straight.. We were married on Friday, September 11th, 1970.

Yes – I know – September 11. Not our fault. That date became infamous way after we were married – not fair really – a group of terrorists stole my anniversary date and made people think of something other than us..

For many years – because we were married on a Friday – Victor thought our anniversary was on September 13 (Friday the 13th) – but no… it’s Friday September 11, 1970. For sure.

6 months later, we went back to Atlanta to visit my parents – and Victor tried to return me. My dad told him – nope – warranty is up.

And on Friday, September 11, 2020 – it was 50 years…

Which is almost impossible for me to truly believe.

I was 21 when we got married. Hopelessly young and innocent and foolish and so much in love. I’m still in love you know – I adore my husband – ponytail and all.

I’m kinda hoping I’m no longer foolish and innocent – but I keep thinking that I’m still young..

Doomed to disappointment I’m afraid to say.

So just how does one celebrate 50 years of doing anything.. It’s a really long time. Way more than 1/2 my life. And here’s what really scary – longer than 80% (according to the US Census) of folks alive today have been alive!

Martin, the charming manager of Boneparte’s here in Montreal – where we celebrated our anniversary with an absolutely lovely dinner party for just 6 – annouced that he was born – BORN – the year we were married.

Our celebration – as most of our celebrations these days – was broken down into parts.. We celebrated in March in St. Croix – right as the COVID lock-down was happening with just our kids.. First time in over 20 years that it’s been just the 5 of us. It was really great – but the conversation centered around the COVID cases and how the world was going to react. We now know the answer – not great. But at the time.. we were a bit optimistic. Wrong – but positive.

Then we celebrated by traveling to send a lovely long Labor Day weekend in Barrie with our friends and Lucy and Lacy – the horses. It was a blast… a long drive each way – but worth it.

Then we had a wonderful dinner party at Boneparte’s – filled with laughter and gift giving and my kids and their kids.. Only Grover didn’t come, but the feeling was that perhaps the party would go on past his bed time. So we shared videos of him. He stayed home and went to bed on time. Probably better all around.

We got caught up on the lives of our two charming grand-daughters – who look more and more beautiful every time I see them. Their lives – like the lives of all kids from 13 to 21 these days are complicated by the truth of COVID. The youngest one is caught in a ‘bubble’ at school that doesn’t include her closest friends, and the older one is trying to have a relationship with a guy, be a young adult, start her working career – and dealing with idiots who refuse to wear masks, to social distance, to admit they are COVID positive, and thus put her life in danger.

I just don’t understand why people are so sure that their right to do what they want trumps the right of other people to feel safe. Why would any one who knows they are COVID positive not alert their friends. What is there to gain by not saying something. It confuses me.

As usual – I have digressed…

Back on track – Saturday afternoon we had a Zoom conversation with all the family – my daughter and grand-daughter in London (hubby was sick with a cold in bed – not Covid), my son and daughter-in-law in California, and my kids here in Montreal.

The we finished off with an equally splendid dinner party – period correct this time – which means we were dressed in our 1812 finest… Silver service, candles lit, music softly playing, amusing conversation, and No IT! Unfortunately for our hosts – their maid and butler had taken the day off (they always do when we come over… ) so while the service was excellent – it was our friends doing the service!

The meal celebrated our trips together. First course was a salmon tartar (yummy) with ground cherries. They are one of my favorite ‘fruits’ – which my friends only discovered when we were together in Quebec City. The 2nd course was a lobster Bisque with shrimp – we’d gone out to Boneparte’s – in period clothing – and three of the four of us ordered the Lobster Bisque… The 3rd course was Rabbit with Olives – in honor of our time together in Malta. The cheese course was again in memory of the Quebec City trip – we had cheese every evening before dinner in the ‘lounge’ area of our room in the BnB in Quebec City. And the desert course was a magnificent Charlotte Russe with a fruit topping. This was in honor of our times together at the Regimental Dinner parties in Vaudreuil.

The dessert was amazing. The dinner outstanding. The wines were well chosen to compliment the different dishes, and the conversation was delightful. We dragged ourselves out close to midnight – feeling very well feted indeed.

So this is how we have celebrated 50 years of being together.. And today is just another day – we’re headed off to buy fruit at Costco and the Marche near by – and having dinner together…

Life marches on… It’s 50 years and 2 days – if it lasts…

The Soup Lady

Day 128 – We’re Great Grand-parents


We are officially great grand parents. His name is Grover, and he arrived at our house with little warning.

I hate to admit this about my own relatives – but honestly – He’s a bird brain…

Of course he’s forgiven – because he is a bird. A Cockatiel to be exact – which is a small parrot. He’s gray with large orange feather spots over his ears, he’s just a bit over 2 months old, fully weaned – and very very cute. For those wondering about him flying away – his wings have been clipped – something you need to do yearly apparently. So he can ‘glide’ to the floor, but he’s not going to fly up in a tree. If his wings weren’t clipped – we’d need a bird leach.. That just sound really too weird.


Why are we in charge of Grover you ask? Well – my Kids left for Greece (Canadians can travel to Europe, even though Americans can not) – and apparently we were top of a very short list of ‘bird-sitters’, if there is even such a list.

Grove is going to be our house guest for 2 full weeks. And he came fully equipped – with a cage the size of a small closet, lots of food bowls, a play ground that my grand-daughter made for him out of recycled stuff like cardboard boxes, ribbons and cord and empty paper towel rolls. It has different heights, lots of different textures, and is adorable.

The best news – unlike my kids at this age – he sleeps thru the night… That’s very cool. And he doesn’t consider being banished to his ‘room’ (his very very large cage) a punishment… also heads over any kid I’ve had to be in charge of for 2 weeks – including my own.

And as mentioned before – he’s very cute.

He pretty much came finger and perched trained – so I quickly added towel training to his repertory. And I’m working on more tricks.

The short list of quick tricks for Cockatiels is Bow, Up, Down, High Five, Eat, Turn around, wings out and of course – eventually – talking.

I’ve got him coming ‘up’ onto my finger basically every time I guesture and say up. And similarly he gets down when I guesture and roll him off my hand towards the table. So that’s two down.

Bow is also coming along well. He loves being scratched behind the ears – so using the word Bow with a motion towards his head works perfectly.

I’ve been less successful so far with High Five. The idea is that he puts one leg on my hand and then pulls it back. High Five! (in his case – it’s a High Four since he only has 4 fingers/claws/foot parts… but I digress). But it’s a word and a motion and for Grover – an action.

As for feeding Grover – that’s actually fun. He can eat anything except avocados and Chocolate – and he adores the part of grapes without the grapes on it – the vine.. He’s quite the vine-a-holic! And kernels of cooked corn are also a treat. And he can spend hours making holes in cardboard – egg cartons being a huge speciality.

One big difference between Cockatiels and Larger full-sized Parrots is the noise volume. Grover will chirp sweetly at us to remind us he’s upstairs if he hears us arrive – and he doesn’t like it if we raise our voices – so he’ll chirp then as well – but that famous loud screech.. haven’t heard that yet thank goodness.

One other fun thing – if I’m typing on my ipad – Grove loves to come and watch. Which is fine until he starts walking on the keyboard. My spelling is bad enough – I don’t need a bird brains help!

Since we don’t want Grover to stay alone more than he must – say while we are working, He has been going on our 2 mile walks every day. I must say we do get a lot of attention – ‘Mom – that’s a bird!’ Is a frequent one. Grover just ignores most folks, but when bicycles speed past he gets tall and thin and his head feathers shoot straight up. After the third or fourth bike – he stopped reacting so strongly. You can, apparently, get used to anything.

Bedtime for Grover is simple. Around 6:30-7:00 he gets carried up to his clean cage, given seeds in one bowl, water in another and maybe some treats in a third and told – ‘Good Night’. The room is dark, but has a night light – and he quickly goes to sleep. Or at least – stops moving around… I don’t dare check to see if he’s really asleep.

Well – that’s the news on my first Great Grand-kid. I just thought I’d share something fun in these days of too many lines and masks and sanitizer.

Sighing off to see if I can make a video of Grover doing tricks… so far I’m batting zero on that effort.

The Soup Lady