Mother-Daughter Time

Like most many kids, my three daughters were a pain in the butt growing up.

But eventually, they became young women whose company I enjoyed, and who were [finally] willing to be seen with their mother.

Mostly, it began with our infamous college inspection tour.   (If you haven’t read that post, click here.  You’ll be glad you did.)  We had a great time traveling together, even if the youngest claimed to be “terrified” of my driving through a rainstorm.

At some point, it occurred to me that it would be fun to plan annual mother-daughter weekend trips.  We managed two before we all ran out of money/developed other hobbies/acquired significant others (the girls, not me – my husband would have disapproved of such an acquisition)/got tired of each other.

The first of these trips was to Niagara-On-The-Lake in Ontario, Canada, just over the bridge from our then home in Tonawanda, New York – less than a half-hour drive, assuming the driver doesn’t get lost.

Which, of course, I did.  Not seriously lost, but I did manage to miss the approach to the international bridge.  It wasn’t my fault (and I’m sticking to that story).  I had taken back roads, there was road construction, and I couldn’t find the right on-ramp because it wasn’t well marked.

I eventually found myself driving over a bridge, and suddenly realized I was, in fact, on the Lewiston-Queenston bridge and fast approaching the Canadian border – and my ID was somewhere in my purse, but God knew where my purse was!  Imagine the border guard’s amusement as he watched an American car approaching while the driver and her passengers were frantically searching through the glove box, console, under and between the car seats, etc.  Sure, back then I probably could have gotten into Canada without ID, but getting back into America after the weekend would have been a no-go.  I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in Canada.

Fortunately, the ID was located.  I won’t tell you where.

Our trip to Niagara-On-The-Lake was to see a play during the Shaw Festival.  We drove up the day before and stayed at the Riverbend Inn & Vineyards – a beautiful Georgian-styled inn within minutes of the bridge and a little outside of the town itself.  It reminded me of the plantation Tara in Gone With the Wind, but with grape vines instead of cotton fields.  The Canadian-American currency exchange rate was good, making the Inn affordable for us.

We had a lovely suite, with a sitting room and a fireplace.  The Inn had its own dining room, with a piano player.   The menu offered a variety of gourmet meals – and, of course, wine.

The wine was somewhat more expensive than my normal fare, but since my oldest daughter was now over 21, I felt sure she could help me drink it, so I ordered an entire bottle.  Unfortunately,  my daughter then informed me she had taken some medication which prevented her from drinking.  There was an entire bottle of expensive wine, and we were eating in the same inn where we would be sleeping – and yes, we could take any leftover wine upstairs with us.

So, we did.  My girls and I watched movies, and I finished off the wine.  Did I mention it was an entire bottle, and I was the only one drinking it?

I don’t remember the movies.  I do remember waking up at about 3 am and puking in the bathroom.   My youngest was very concerned and asked if I had the flu.  No, just something I ate, I replied.

The next morning, I hadn’t improved much.  We ordered room-service breakfast – cooked to perfection and beautifully presented, but all I could eat was one tiny corner of pastry.  And coffee, lots of coffee.  I think my oldest daughter suspected what was up, but wisely said nothing.

The play was scheduled for mid-afternoon, and we wanted to do some shopping first.  By the time we left the Inn, I was well enough to drive.

But lunch was a challenge.  I was feeling a wee bit better, but the idea of looking at, much less eating, food was not at the top of my list of things-I-want-to-do-today.  For the sake of my girls, I faked it as best I could.

Which apparently wasn’t all that good.

Halfway through our lunch, my oldest daughter looked at me twirling uneaten food around my plate, nodded, and said in a stern, matronly voice:  “Now, Mom, let this be a lesson to you.”

Little brat.

It still turned out to be a great trip.  The play was awesome!  Our trip back to the US after the play was uneventful.

And the best part was – to this day, my girls have never told their father about my indiscretion.  Nothing like a few girly secrets during mother-daughter time, and it gives us something to laugh about now that we’re all (including me) adults.

Subsequent trips were wine-less, or at least wine-conservative.  Best trips ever!


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Top Image by Cordelia’s Mom; others downloaded as indicated under photo

Posted in Humor, Road Trips & Cars, That's Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments


There’s a mistake in the paperwork!  The closing is tomorrow! The clients are here NOW and are bitching to The Boss about my incompetence!  It’s a whole chain of simultaneous sales/purchases, and every one of them is going downhill!  Bank delays! Weather delays! Delays due to illness … delays due to DEATH!

Noooooooooooooo ……………….  !!!!!


It’s been almost a year, and I still have nightmares about my former life as a real estate paralegal.  Can someone who’s never been in military combat suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?

Apparently so.

But today is my Remicade infusion, which means I will sleep most of the afternoon.  That should help, right?

Or maybe not.

Maybe I should warn the infusion nurses to ignore any screams they might hear coming from my room.

TGIF.  While I’m sleeping, most of you will be working.  Enjoy your day.


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

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I did my research.  I contacted acquaintances who had the same product and were happy with it.  I checked the product reviews through several online sites.

And I still managed to get a lemon.

Yes, my new Nikon Coolpix B700 camera may be dead.  I called the camera shop to check on the status of the warranty repairs and was told Nikon had returned the camera with a note saying the necessary parts were no longer available.  Say what?  I bought that camera only 5 months ago!

The camera shop is sending the camera to a different repair facility in hope they may have the needed parts.  But I’m not hopeful.

There ‘s a 1-year warranty.  Someone is going to honor it, either by making the camera fully functional, giving me a new camera, or crediting me the over $500 I paid for the darn thing.

Damn.  Could I ever have good luck?

At least it was a nice, sunny day.

Still fuming, and being unable to take quality photos, I decided to simply run errands.

First, to the library to pick out a number of books to entertain myself.  Upon exiting, I saw a person lying face-down on the ground by a picnic table to the side of the building.  I hesitated.  Then the person got up onto all fours, and I figured he (or she, I couldn’t tell) was maybe doing yoga or something.  After all, it was  a very nice fall day.  But then, the person straightened up and was decidedly unsteady on his (or her) feet.  At which point, I decided to help him (or her – the person was elderly, thin, had short hair, and to be honest I couldn’t decide between male or female).  I was totally ignored when I asked if all was ok or was help needed.  Maybe he/she was deaf?  He/she had managed to gather up his/her belongings, including a cane, and had started toddling (and huffing) towards the parking lot, so I strolled along.  The most help I was able to provide was to move a rather large branch out of the way.  At any rate, the person got in his/her car and eventually drove away.  As I was going in the same direction, I followed a bit and saw that his/her driving skills had not been impaired.

So I went on to my next destination.  Everyone’s favorite —


Yes, I shop at Walmart.  Like everyone else I know, I really hate that store, but the prices are too good to avoid, especially when one does not have unlimited income.

No huge issues at Walmart, except that they seem to always manage to put whatever items I’ll need on the very top shelf.  That makes shopping a challenge, seeing as I’m only 5’2″ (or at least I was – I may have shrunk in the last couple of years, being that I’m now officially a senior).


I have a particular type of instant coffee I use, which comes in little sticks, 7 to a package, for only 90 cents.  Perfect for both work and home, so I can nuke a cuppa whenever I get the urge, without wasting a whole pot.  The store is nearly always sold out of that particular product, so I stock up when I can.

And wouldn’t you know it – the few boxes that were left were not only on the very top shelf, but also at the very back of the shelf.

Did I mention that I am height-challenged?

I tried reaching up as far as possible.  No luck.  I tried jumping up and grabbing.  Forget it.  I took a can from a lower shelf and tried to use it to bat what I wanted off the top shelf.  No dice. I tried reaching, jumping, and batting simultaneously.  When you stop laughing, you may continue to read.

I considered climbing up the shelving, but how embarrassing would it have been if the whole structure fell down on top of me?  I thought about standing up on the shopping cart – after all, 5-year-olds ride in those carts all the time.  But I’m not 5, and I’m not agile.

Apparently, no one was manning the security cameras to see the goofy woman in the coffee aisle.

There were no salespeople around to help.  I saw a very tall man a couple of aisles over, but he adamantly refused to make eye contact.

The only other person to approach was a lady even older than me, by 15 years or more – and she was no taller than me, and no more agile.  Sighing, I began to turn away, coffee-less.

Wait — what was that hanging off her cart?  A cane!  With a hooked top!

She was a kindly old lady and agreed her cane is perfect for retrieving top-shelf items.  She even did the honors, knocking an entire carton of coffee boxes down so I could take my pick.  (I think maybe she was afraid I’d steal the cane.)

Gotta get me one of those canes!  No one ever questions a senior carrying one, and they come in handy as aforementioned – plus, one could be useful out in the parking lot should there be robbers.

Just an ordinary Cordelia’s Mom day.

Sorry about the quality of today’s photos.  Blame Nikon.

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


Posted in Household Items, Photography, That's Life | Tagged , , , , , | 28 Comments

Teddy Rosalie Gets Summa Dat Dere Culture (Re-Blog)

Electrical work is being done at my house this morning, so no time to blog.  Please enjoy this re-post.

(Teddy Rosalie says she needs some attention as I’ve been ignoring her recently.)




I’m bored!

Just like any other dependent, Teddy Rosalie hates chilling out at home on a nice summer day, but today was too hot (90° F) for me to go to a park.

I considered taking her to the Albright Knox Art Gallery, but Teddy Rosalie thought it would be foolish to waste admission cost and parking on artists inferior to me.

Teddy Rosalie is my biggest, albeit somewhat misguided, supporter.

Also, the Albright Knox does not allow photography by visitors inside the building, and we all know what a ham Teddy Rosalie is.

Right next to Albright Knox is the Buffalo History Museum – lower admission (especially if you’re old like me!), free parking, photos allowed so long as you don’t use a flash – and after driving past it twice a day for the last 17-1/2 years, I figured it was time to visit.

What a great choice!

Teddy Rosalie loves to climb on things.



And Teddy Rosalie loves sliding down staircase railings.


Some of the exhibits made her just a bit nervous, I don’t know why.



But then we found the model train exhibit – everyone loves that!



The operator of the model train exhibit, Ed Kowal (see credit under photo), was kind enough to stop the train so Teddy Rosalie could get a really good look (and I could get a better photo).  Thank you, Ed!

By now, Teddy Rosalie was running out of steam and wanting a nap.  Good thing I was able to stop her from climbing into the traveling trunk exhibit.


My favorite exhibit, however, was the wall where visitors left notes saying why they had come.  I was tempted to leave a note with the URL for this website, but thought the museum management might object to free advertising.  There were two notes, however, which I found especially interesting:





Before heading back to the car, Teddy Rosalie and I found a nice bench outside next to the Japanese garden.  Just what we both needed to relax for a few minutes.




I hope you’ve enjoyed this little view into one of Buffalo, New York’s best kept secrets.  If you’re ever in town, I’ll be glad to take you there.


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



Posted in Holidays, Photography, Re-Blogs, Road Trips & Cars, Teddy Rosalie, That's Life | Tagged , , , , , | 10 Comments