Age Versus Beauty


It was a beautiful spring day, after a long, snowstorm-filled winter.  It was also my co-worker’s birthday.

As my co-worker (whom I shall call Penelope for this post) entered the office building that morning, the security guard sang out, “Hey, Penelope! 60 today?

In a huff, Penelope responded, “Hell, no – 50!

The security guard had no way of knowing it was Peneloope’s birthday.  Properly chastised, he apologized:  “Oh, I guess they must have changed the weather forecast.

Everyone in the office had a good laugh when the story was told around the coffee machine.

Today, in Western New York (after a long, snowstorm-filled winter), it’s supposed to reach 67 degrees.  Today is also my birthday.  Can you guess what birthday it is based on the prior story?

You probably guessed wrong.  Mother Nature seems to have learned her lesson since that day.  Today the outside temperature and the birthday match.

May your day be warm and beautiful today, too.  Dare I say that spring is finally here?


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Image by Cordelia’s Mom

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Toeing the Line (Or Not)

I was the perfect child.  At least in my mind.  I did well in school, respected my elders, and never, ever caused trouble.

Until I did.

→  There was the time my younger brother tried to come into my room (my private space), and I shut the door on him – and ignored his screams when his finger got caught between the door and the jamb.  Mom was not happy.  But at least the finger wasn’t broken.

→ There was the time I lied to my mother about the elderly neighbor having invited me to come visit.  I was little and the old guy always treated me like his very own grandchild.  I didn’t understand why his wife told me to go away that day.  How was I to know that he was in the process of dying? My mother had a little talk with me after receiving a visit from the gentleman’s angry, grieving wife.

→ There was the time, as a preteen, when I went shoplifting with a friend at a locally owned drugstore.  When I came home with lipsticks that I had not paid for, my mother marched me back to the store and made me not only return the items, but also personally apologize to the pharmacist-owner, promising I would never steal again.  The embarrassment was enough to keep me in line, and my mother never mentioned it again.

→ There was the time, when I had become a teenager, that I thought it would be highly amusing to sneak up behind my not-so-young aunt while she was vacuuming, tap her on the shoulder and shout “SURPRISE!”  Once she was able to breathe again, my aunt had a talk with my mother, and then began locking her door at all times.  My mother, of course, had a talk with me.

My mother, rest her soul, was the perfect parent – loving, patient, understanding, kind.

Until she wasn’t.

Despite her frustration with her four children, we all knew she loved us and was doing her best.  But I’ll never forget the day, when I was still small, when she lost her temper and told me, “You’re not my daughter.  My daughter would never do that!

I thought she meant it.  I thought perhaps I was adopted.  I thought she wanted me to leave.  My teary response was, “Well, then whose daughter am I?”

Even very angry mothers can set aside their emotions to comfort a traumatized child.

As I said,  my mother was the perfect parent.  I can only hope I was as good a mom to my own kids, but like all moms I’m only human.  Like all moms, I did my best, but there were times …

Hopefully, the kids weren’t traumatized too badly.

May your family life be peaceful and loving at all times.  Unless, of course, you’re human – in which case, may you and your family survive all the ups and downs and become better people for it.

Hugs to all of you from Cordelia’s Mom.

I love to hear from my readers. You may comment on this post, comment on my Facebook or Twitter pages, or email me at
Image by Cordelia’s Mom/TeddyRosalie Studio


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So … How Disgusting Was it?



After doing all the upgrades for our newly purchased home, there was no money left for the cosmetic stuff, so we have to do all our own painting.

The house was built in 1939 and was owned until 2017 by one family, every member of which was apparently a heavy smoker.  The nicotine on the walls is so thick that it cannot be washed off completely, and in places it actually weeps!  When we first moved in, I thought the kitchen had lovely almond colored ceiling tiles – certainly a custom upgrade, right?  Not.  They were the usual white tiles that had been seriously stained by nicotine.

This past weekend, hubby decided to paint that ceiling.  Look at the difference:

Yes, that’s truly disgusting.  But we’re working on it.  There are already two coats of white up there, and we’re waiting to see if the nicotine comes through, which would require even more paint.

Next will be to cover over those neon-yellow, nicotine-oozing kitchen walls.

I can hardly wait.

Meanwhile, I’ve been busy with my camera.  The photo at the top of this post is quite popular on (yay, me).  I grumbled when I had to go into the basement at work to retrieve some documents, but that old safe down there made the trip worth it.

The theme of the week is Squared Circle – I hope everyone likes my submission, which I call “Fire in the Water“:

Yes, “Fire and Ice[Cream]” will be coming, but I have to wait for a day when I really want to eat my props, and have the time to do so.

Then, of course, there are the usual walk-in-the-woods-on-a-cloudy-day photos:

If only those geese had waited to fly over until I actually had my camera out.  But no, they did so just as I was getting out of my car and by the time I got to the pond, they were already swimming. – and insisted on swimming away from me.  Uncooperative little beasts.

Having now wasted the balance of my day, it is time for laundry and dog care.

TGIF, Everyone.

I love to hear from my readers. You may comment on this post, comment on my Facebook or Twitter pages, or email me at
Images by Cordelia’s Mom/TeddyRosalie Studio

Posted in Household Items, Photography, Road Trips & Cars, That's Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

It’s not right to not write

I love Nick Claussen’s blog! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can totally relate to this post. Enjoy!

(Comments are closed here.  Please leave any comments over on Nick’s site.)

After two weeks without posting anything, I would like to take some responsibility and offer an explanation.

It’s not my fault.

Thank you. I felt I needed to get that off of my chest. I do have a few reasons for not posting for a while, though, along with a few thoughts on not writing.

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