March 2006 - Posts

• Exercise Class

  My daughter Susan, grand daughter Michelle and I have started taking exercise classes. We went once before and then had to skip a week, but started back again last night. The class consists of about eight women. The classes are held in a hall/gym so there is plenty of room to move about. The first week was pretty good and I had no sore muscles the next day. Today, however, is a different story. The class instructor last time was a substitute; the one we had last night is the permanent instructor. She is younger and much more energetic. They say �No pain, no gain�, so I guess that�s the direction that I�m going. Posted Mar 29 2006, 02:05 PM by dianastories with no comments

• Kaysey's Birthday

  Yesterday was our grand daughter Kaysey�s 11th birthday. I am writing this in blue because that is one of her favorite colors. I have not at this point written a poem for Kaysey, but I sure have lots of nice things to say about her. I remember the day she was born. I was fortunate enough to see her just � hour after her birth. She was a very big baby; much bigger than any of our other five grandchildren by almost two pounds. What a chunk! Now she is pretty tall for her age and very slim. Kaysey is a very good student. Last report as per normal, she received all A�s. Grandpa is always there to hand out the dollar bills for the report cards. When she gets home from school, she gets right to her homework; not a lot of procrastinating. The results show. Also, she is very involved in basketball. She plays on a team and has her own basketball hoop at home. She likes clothing with basketball slogans, basketballs, etc. We were able to find a jacket and a shirt with some basketball something or other for her birthday. She wore the jacket right away. Last night we went out to dinner for her birthday. Sorry to say, our food was excellent but the service was not. By the time we were served Kaysey was almost asleep. She gets up very early for school and when it reaches a certain time, that�s it for her. Even as a baby, when she got tired she would actually fall asleep sitting in her high chair. Except for the high chair part, she can still fall asleep just sitting there. She�s funny. Kaysey is a very neat little girl. Everything has to be just so. Her bed is always made (unlike her sister�s) and her room is always picked up. Her room is filled with stuffed animals, but they are all arranged in an orderly fashion. I guess all these stuffed animals make up for all the real ones that she wishes she had. Kaysey is a true animal lover. At this point, she says that she wants to be a Veterinarian. I have touched on a just a very few things about Kaysey. There is so much more to tell. But lastly, I guess I will just say that her Grandpa and I love her bunches. Posted Mar 24 2006, 04:45 PM by dianastories with no comments

• Remembering Terry

  It is so funny how things happen sometimes. I read the Obituaries this morning and saw that there was a woman named Terry listed that I knew when I was growing up. Apparently, she had moved to Texas but still had family here so her obituary was in our local newspaper. Terry met her husband while he was stationed in Georgia during the 2nd World War. She was very young and they eloped. When he had finished his enlistment, they moved to Syracuse which was his home town. Her family was in Georgia and she was a young girl away from home for the first time. I remember when her Mom came to visit. I had never heard anyone speak with a Southern accent before. Terry had an accent but not as pronounced as her Mom. Their back yard and ours faced each other. Although she was considerably younger than my Mom, she and my Mom became very good friends. Our families spent lots of time together and I babysat their younger children quite often. Eventually, both of our families moved to different neighborhoods and did not see each other as often, but still kept in contact. When my sister married, two of their daughters were in my sister�s wedding party. Over the years, my sister had talked to the daughters quite a few times, but I had not. I, personally, had not seen Terry for quite a few years. When my daughter graduated Nursing School, I saw her but only for a very short time. After many years, she had decided to become a nurse. She looked the same, but of course older. The last time before that when I saw her, I had gone with my Mother to visit her at her new home. We had a very nice visit. For some reason or other, my brother had given us a ride to her house. When he came by to pick us up, he came inside for a few minutes. Keeping in mind, this was a very long time ago; my brother is now in his sixties. I remember Terry asking him when he was going to get married. He answered that he did not know. She then replied, �Probably the 12th of Never�. That was the name of a very popular song at that time. I don�t know why but that answer has stuck with me all these years. As years passed and I occasionally heard that song played, I always thought of Terry. To get back to how funny things happen sometimes. I was in the car on the way to an appointment this morning. I turned the radio on. The song that was playing was �The 12th of Never�. I had not heard that song in many years, but yet there it was. Maybe, just a little reminder to remember Terry in a kind way; that�s what I am doing right now. Posted Mar 22 2006, 10:25 PM by dianastories with no comments

• Is this OCD or what???

  Yesterday, I wrote a blog pertaining to St. Joseph�s day. As far back as I can remember St. Joseph�s Day always fell two days after St. Patrick�s Day on March 19. Well, I wrote my blog using the 19th date. A short time after that, I happen to look at out church calendar and saw that the 20th of March was shown as St. Joseph�s Day. I went back to the computer and corrected my blog. This morning I was reading an article and it said St. Joseph�s Day has been celebrated by Italians on March 19, etc., etc. I thought �What�s going on. I checked the calendar�. Being the perfectionist that I try to be, I changed yesterday�s blog to show the correct date. I said to myself �Does anyone care? Probably not�, but I changed it anyways. Posted Mar 20 2006, 07:43 PM by dianastories with 1 comment(s)

• Wearing of the Green and Red

  March 17 as most people know is St. Patrick�s Day. Not as widely celebrated is March 19 which is St. Joseph�s Day. St. Patrick�s Day is celebrated by the Irish (and those who are for the day) and St. Joseph�s is mostly celebrated by Italians. As I was growing up, our family celebrated both. Being Irish on my Dad�s side, my mother always made sure that my brother, sister and me had green to wear to school that day. I also had a Shamrock pin that belonged to my Grandma that I would wear. Dad, of course, would wear a green shirt that day. He was proud of his heritage. My Mom would always buy my sister a little gift on this day because her name is Patricia. I don�t remember having Corned Beef and Cabbage, but rather what my Mother called �Boiled Dinner�. It was the same as Corned Beef and Cabbage, but Ham replaced the Corned Beef. Two days later on March 19, it was time to wear at least a red ribbon for St. Joseph�s Day. But, the best part of St. Joseph�s Day was going to my Grandparents� house (my Mother�s parents) for dinner that night. My grandparents were born in Italy and St. Joseph�s Day was a big deal for them. Grandma would make homemade macaroni (not ever store bought in a box or even made with a pasta machine) with meatballs, etc. She said the meal was made for our family because my Dad�s name was Joseph. Actually, his middle name was Joseph, but that was good enough for Grandma. That was our immediate family�s special day at Grandma�s for dinner. I never thought about it as I was growing up, but we were the only ones invited to dinner on that day even though my mother had 14 other siblings. It was the Joseph thing with my Dad. Just another pleasant memory of my childhood. How lucky I am to have so many. Posted Mar 19 2006, 08:06 PM by dianastories with no comments

• Thank You

  A while ago at the suggestion of my grandson Chris, I started writing a blog. Since I started writing, I have often wondered if anyone ever read it. I have mentioned my blog to a few family members and friends, but other than that, wasn�t really sure if even they were reading it. I did, however, receive one comment from a non-family member/friend and that was pretty cool. This morning, I received a call from my grandson Chris. He told me that he had checked the statistics of my blog and found that I had a considerable number of readers. What a nice surprise. To that, I say �Thank You�. Hopefully, my stories have been interesting enough to make a reader return and perhaps have even touched someone in a special way. Posted Mar 18 2006, 05:19 PM by dianastories with no comments

• An Italian Dinner

  This past Sunday, I prepared an Italian dinner for my family. There were sixteen of us (sorry Chris that you were not there). It was actually a celebration for my daughter Cathy�s and grand daughter Kaysey�s birthdays. Well anyways, I decided to make homemade Manicotti (or pronounced mon-a-gute by Italians and Braciole (bra-shawl). Sorry about the spelling on the Italian pronunciation end. While this is an easy enough meal to prepare, it is very time consuming. I asked my grandson Rich (a Culinary School graduate) if he would like to join me on Saturday to teach him the basics. By the time he had arrived, my sauce was already on its way so we set right out in making the crepes for the Manicotti. Like I said, simple enough, but very time consuming. As always, I made two batches at once and ended up making another so that I had enough for all of the filling. The recipe that I use was given to me by a friend many years ago who got it from her mother-in-law who was born in Italy. I guess that makes it the real thing. When our Manicotti were completed and put into three baking pans, we then made our Braciole. The hardest part about making this is finding the meat at the store. The meat should be very thin cut round steak. This time I was not so lucky. After going to three stores, I decided to use sandwich steaks as they are very thin. The only problem is that you have to make lots of them as opposed to just a few that can later be sliced. What�s the big deal? Well, they each have to be rolled after they are seasoned, etc. and tied with string. Very tedious. After the Bracioles were fried, they were put into the remaining sauce to complete the cooking. When my family arrived on Sunday, I had made a platter of shrimp with cocktail sauce for them to enjoy while I put on the finishing touches to my dinner. We then had salad (mixed, of course, with vinegar, oil and seasonings), Italian bread, Manicotti, Bracciolli, and some Italian sausage that I decided to make at the last minute. My Manicotti and Braciole got rave reviews which always make me very happy. I have made these dishes many times before; usually on special occasions, but for some reason or other, this time it was different. I truly enjoy cooking for my family and it appears that they enjoy what I prepare. For probably the first time, I felt like a real Italian mother or grandmother. Hard to explain, but I felt like maybe my house is the place my family wants to eat when they want Italian food. Posted Mar 17 2006, 08:03 PM by dianastories with no comments

• Cathy

  March 12 is a pretty special day for me. That�s the day I became a Mom for the first time. So, I guess that means it is my daughter Cathy�s birthday. She too is very special. Cathy was always the happiest child. I have often said that when she enters a room, her smile can light it up. She loved to laugh or should I say �cackle�. As an adult, her smile is still there and she certainly enjoys a good laugh or again �cackle�. Presently, she is an Emergency Room Nurse at a local hospital. She worked long and hard to achieve her goal. When she received her Nursing degree, I wrote her a poem. I would like to think that the words of this poem express how proud her father and I are of her. Ever since you were a little girl With your rosy cheeks and all those curls A nurse is what you wanted to be And nothing else from what I could see You liked to play doctor and nurse too To fix all your little dolls� boo boos When you became a teenager you wanted more More than fixing dolls you were looking for So off to St. Joe�s to volunteer time To be a Candy striper, that was first in line With your pink striped uniform and cap on your head You learned more there than just making a bed You worked at the hospital and went to nursing homes too Nothing was ever too much for you Next in line, a Future Nurse you�d be Preparing yourself for the future you�d see You worked at other things along the way But always the nursing dream did stay When High school and volunteer time was through It was off to Nursing School for you You worked real hard and became an LPN And at that time, you thought schooling the end You worked at St. Joe�s when you graduated there Treating each patient with kindness and care Then you got married and careers now were two But still nursing you wanted to do A little boy then came your way So at St. Joe�s it was hard to stay Long hours at night away from home A different path you had to roam A doctor�s office now was next for you To fix up some scrapes and give a shot or two Then another little one came your way Now two little boys, but there you did stay Being a wife, a mother, and working too And even some classes at night you would do Working long hours and giving your best Never taking much time to give yourself a rest You continued with classes learning all that you could Wanting to become an RN and for all that it stood But then an opportunity came your way With better hours, just eight a day Patients� Choice was next on your path And at that time you thought it would be the last The name of the company changed a time or two But your job was always there for you Still the classes continued here and there To better yourself and your career But then the time came, and your job was no more A decision had to be made; you were out the door It took lots of thought and planning too To be a hands-on nurse, that�s what you wanted to do You needed a job, so back to St. Joe�s Where you started your career a long while ago The Emergency Room, a dream come true Something you had always wanted to do While you were there, you heard of their school Weekend classes: why you�d be a fool Now to enroll and finally reach your goal So you gave it a shot with all your heart and soul It would take a while, but that�d be okay Because when it was over there�d be a raise in pay You studied hard both night and day Nothing was going to stand in your way Then the classes were finally through And it was graduation day for you Your goal now achieved and for all that has been You can finally say, �I am an RN�. Congratulations!! Catherine D. Green, RN Posted Mar 12 2006, 03:54 PM by dianastories with no comments

• Complaints = Reward

  My husband and I along with my sister and brother-in-law went to Atlantic City for five days this past week. The weather was beautiful (20+ degrees warmer than home). We walked the Boardwalk, saw some shows, had some good meals, and of course, did some gambling. Now to get to my real story. Upon arrival, we were disappointed in that the two rooms that we had reserved a month in advance were not available. We made what we thought was a simple request; two adjoining non-smoking rooms with king-sized beds for a four-night stay. The desk clerk could have cared less about our problem. He insisted that there were no non-smoking rooms available, even after supposedly checking with his supervisor. Therefore, we were stuck with two adjoining smoking rooms on the 21st floor; one with a king-sized bed and the other with two double beds. None of us were very happy, needless to say, but we thought we would stick it out and try for something the next day. And that�s another thing, the clerk did not even say �Sorry, but tomorrow we will try to put you in some other rooms.� What a jerk! We freshened up and went out for something to eat. When we returned, I decided to call the Front Desk and make a request for the next day re: changing rooms. I thought best not to wait until the next day. The girl that answered was very nice and said she would check the computer. After a short time, she said there would be two adjoining rooms with king-sized beds on the 11th floor available the next day. I was to call back between 12:00 and 12:30 to check on the availability as 12:00 was checkout time. Sounded good to me. We spent the night awakening every so often to the lingering smell of smoke in the air. I wished that I had brought a can of Febreze with me. Next morning, we showered, went to breakfast and around noon, I made my �first� phone call. I was told the rooms were not vacated yet and to call back around 2:00. We walked the Boardwalk, made reservations for a show and returned around 2:10. I called the Front Desk immediately upon arrival. Again, the clerk was very nice, but told us that our rooms were still not available. I was told to call back after 4:00. She said to do whatever we had planned for the day; do not stick around the room waiting. I was told that when we returned to our room we were to call the Desk, the Bell Captain would come to our rooms for our bags and we would then proceed to our new rooms. Again, sounded good to me. Well, that�s not the end of the story. As instructed, I called the Desk when we returned. The girl I spoke to the night before answered. I asked about the room availability. She said �Oh no, the rooms are not for today. They are for the next day.� At this point, my other side became very visible. We (I mean me) had a very heated discussion. I then asked for the Manager. He came to the phone and of course apologized for any inconvenience we had suffered. At this point, we had not unpacked, the rooms smelled and tempers were blazing. He said that he was sorry but there were no rooms on the 11th floor. I told him I never mentioned the 11th floor, his clerk did. I would prefer rooms that were not up so high, but never specifically asked for the 11th floor. I then proceeded to tell him the whole story from beginning to end. He made an offer of rooms; I refused. He made another offer; I again refused. Both rooms were very high up. He said to hold on for a minute as he had to check the computer. When he returned, he asked if we would be willing to accept a suite. The suite had two bedrooms (one with a king-sized bed and one with two doubles), two baths and we would be on the fourth floor (a non-smoking floor). (By the way, they do not even have adjoining rooms with king-sized beds.) I told him to hold on and I would check with the other members of my party knowing full well that his offer was more than acceptable. We agreed, the Manager apologized again and said the Bell Captain would be there soon. We figured that �soon� could be any time. Within a matter of less than five minutes, there was a person at our door to pick up our luggage. He loaded up our luggage and said he would meet us at our new rooms. When we arrived at our new location, he was already there and waiting for us. I cannot begin to tell you the surprise we had when we opened that door. It was like being in a house. There were two large bedrooms as mentioned, 2-1/2 baths, (one bathroom had a counter and mirror over it that was at least 12 feet long. It had beautiful blue, what looked like hand painted, double sinks and plenty of counter space), a very large walk-in shower, a Jacuzzi, a living room, a dining room with a chandelier, bar area, several closets, three televisions, and one room that had nothing in it but a toilet and phone. It was beautiful. I guess the moral of this story is �If you complain long enough and loud enough, you eventually will be compensated�. Posted Mar 10 2006, 09:23 PM by dianastories with no comments