Monthly Archives: November 2014

Giving Thanks ……

…… in Sorrow.
Sounds so cliché, doesn’t it? Especially for those of us who have been, and continue to be, sometimes mired in sorrow.

Those of you who know me, know that this time of the year is difficult, at best. Thanksgiving starts what many of us widowed people refer to as, “The Death March”. For some reason, it starts up the march that carries me forward to December 18th, the day Jim died, through Christmas, through the New Year, and almost right up to February 14th.
It’s a season.
Maybe yours is in the summer, or her’s is in spring, but we probably all have them.

Last year I spent Thanksgiving and all of the rest of the Holiday season in NY. A vastly different place than Houston, TX, where the leaves fall of off trees, not because of the cold, but because it’s just their time to do that. Raking leaves in 78 degree weather just doesn’t have the same “It’s Fall!!” feeling.

Last year the “Death March” drummed forward very, very quietly. It’s impact upon me was negligible. Of course, I missed him just as much and of course I thought of him on the 18th, but the physicalness of the march wasn’t there (I’m sorry that I can’t explain that any better for those of you who don’t understand, but it’s very, very physical …… your body can indeed remember things when your brain is trying not to).
I was in a different place. A different space.
And it was good.

So I figured it would be the same this year. After all, we progress forward, don’t we? Isn’t grief, as all things are, linear?
Not so much.

I started hearing the rumblings deep within me the day before Thanksgiving, as we were preparing lots of dishes.
I decided to ignore it, knowing that last year was better.
I wish I could tell you that it can be ignored.
But it seems as if it will NOT be ignored.

And yesterday, as I drove home from the lake, the march was all around me, inside me, inside my car, loud and dark.
I didn’t lose it, or even cry. I just wondered at the power, and at the ability of the human body to have a memory of its own.
It occurred to me that this march, my march, has a lot to do with exactly where I am, and where I was those days in December of 2007.
It’s warm outside …. yet a bit damp. As it was 7 years ago.
The trees look the same, some dropping leaves, some staying forever green.
The humidity feels the same.
The lake was the same, only without him.

The “sameness” is what starts off the march. Maybe.
The “sameness” can feel quite smothering. I feel it as I write this and sit by a window, looking into my beautiful back yard.
The house isn’t the same. The yard isn’t the same.
But the “sameness” goes beyond that.
It FEELS the same. Maybe that’s it. The feeling of “sameness”, where there is no sameness.

I’m looking forward to heading back to NY tomorrow, where the “sameness” can’t follow.
I hope. 🙂

OK, that’s it. I think that any widowed Peeps will understand this. The rest of you will read it as rambling. Good for you. Truly. If this seems insane to you, then I am truly joyful for you. And ask you to hug your loved ones even closer this season. Spend more time staring at the tree at night, saying nothing, but just holding hands.
Spend less time cooking and more time playing.
Spend less time shopping and more time giving.
Spend less time talking and more time listening.

For those of you who “get it”, I’m sharing this reading with you that I found here.

I hope it brings you comfort.

Happy Advent, friends.

Give Thanks In Sorrow

Text: Psalm 31:1-24, Psalm 34:18, Psalm 56:8
“If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.”
– Psalm 34:18, The Message
I don’t know if you’ve ever lived with someone who was learning to play a musical instrument, but if you have, I bet you know about a glorious little piece of metal called a mute.
Growing up, my younger brother played every instrument he could get his hands on—the trumpet, guitar, piano, ukulele and, unfortunately, the bagpipes. I loved being part of a musical family. I didn’t love being part of a we’re-learning-to-be-musical family.
“Can’t you find a mute for that thing?” was my most frequented phrase, hoping for a silenced version of “Hot Cross Buns.”
One day, my brother came home with a new piece of music in hand. The composer’s note at the top read, “Play muted, with sorrow.”
He began playing the song on his trumpet, and I braced myself for sweet relief as he transitioned into the “sorrow” section. Much to my dismay and delight, I learned that the mute did not silence the sound, it just changed it. The piercing, shrill signature of the instrument was replaced by a deliciously pleasing sound. The sound emerging from the horn was unlike anything that could be produced by the trumpet alone.
Sometimes, I feel like God is asking me to put a mute on my feelings. When His Word says to be thankful in every situation, I find myself thinking, Even in this? In grief, in fear, in sorrow? You can’t possibly mean in this.
It’s easy to forget that all songs of thanksgiving don’t have the same sound. I don’t know exactly what musical directions were given when the Psalms were played as songs, but I can guess that many of them were instructed to be played “with sorrow.”
God doesn’t ask us to silence our sorrow in favor of thanksgiving. Rather, He uses our sorrow to proclaim a type of thanksgiving we wouldn’t be able to express otherwise.
Just like the trumpet’s song wasn’t any less a melody because of its change in pitch, your sorrow isn’t any less a sound of thanksgiving than your highest shouts of joy.
Extracted from all earthly attachments, void of trimmings and trumpets sounding, sorrow is a connection to Christ and our need for Him in its purest form. And, Sister, the world needs to hear that.
You’ve sized up your grief of what was lost, what should be, or what will never be, and felt the sharp pangs of this fallen world. You’ve avoided playing a thanksgiving song because it won’t sound the same as before. But by doing so, you’re withholding one of the most precious tunes the world has ever heard—the tune of Glory.
Thanksgiving doesn’t devour your sorrow, but it acknowledges the Glory that will.
The thanks be to Him who says our sorrows will be worth it.
The giving of our souls to say that, even if our earthly hopes have been deferred, our eternal hope will never be lost.
When you think you’ll never again be able to sing a song of thanksgiving, try it anyway. Our hearts may not be comfortable praising tragedy, loss, or bad days, but our hearts were created to praise the Hope of Glory.
Allow Him to work in your sorrow, friends. Even—and especially—if it’s muted.

Kaitlin Wernet is a Carolina girl who now plants her feet in Tennessee as the Community Coordinator for She Reads Truth. Each day, she excitedly celebrates grace with her SRT sisters while attempting to tame her curly hair and avoid parallel parking.

A Whole Lotta ……

…… Nothin’.

That’s what’s been going on around here.
Well, except for binge watching a few TV series. And while I enjoy Kerry Washington, I can tell you that continuous watching of Olivia Pope reveals a limited range of emotions. She seems to have three: somewhat happy, very ticked off, and very, very bossy.
I like her clothes but I’m getting awfully bored of winter white.

Anyway, the reason that my life has sunk to such a boring low as to critique a tv show character, is that I have spent the last 19 days in a lot of pain. When I went to the doctor on Friday (because isn’t it ALWAYS on a Friday?!), I thought that it had only been 10 days. I was wrong.
I left out an entire week.
Which shows you what pain tends to do to someone after several days.
Or maybe just to me.

It started on my right side, above my hip, just below my waist (or where a waist would be if I had one) and more to the back side. My right “flank”, I discovered, when I decided to google it after several days.
Yeah, like a mare.

I thought that maybe I had over done it at my last barre class in NY, because it started bothering me while I was sleeping that night.
I didn’t have a point of injury, nor felt any pain as if something had happened, so I’m still not too sure where this came from.

I saw an orthopedic on Thursday and he diagnosed it as sciatica, which wasn’t a huge surprise to me, although I’ve never experienced anything like this. The pain moves every day to a different location on my right side. One day it’s below my waist. The next it’s low on my front right side. Then it’s down at the top of my back thigh. Which makes sitting down very, very painful.
As well as walking, lying down, and standing.
Walking up stairs is right out.

The dr. prescribed some steroids and anti-inflammatories. That first evening I started feeling relief and was very hopeful.
But the next morning (yesterday) the pain was back just as bad as the day before and it never really let up.
Ditto today.

This should make grocery shopping for Thanksgiving dinner very, very interesting tomorrow.
Maybe I’ll just ride one of those scooters and make 15 trips in and out of the store with that little basket.
If you see me out, please refrain from laughing too hard.

In other news, when you’re a puppy that weighs only 2 lbs …… the vet has to do things a wee bit differently:
See that box behind her? It contains mosquito/heart worm prevention meds.
For kittens.
Talk about a sock to the ego!
Not that I’ve told Gracie that. I’m going to spare her that humiliation.

She is still so cute that I’m truly worried about diabetes.
But you can judge that for yourself from the above picture and this one:

She and Son #2’s kitten are slowly becoming friends. But interestingly enough, watching them interact is kind of like watching “Groundhog Day”. They start off each morning fighting and chasing and bopping each other.
Well, the kitten does the bopping. Gracie just runs like the wind and barks.
But by the time evening comes, they’re sitting next to each other and following each other around the room.
And then they go to bed.
And we start all over again.

It’s a lot more entertaining than “90 Day Fiancee”, or “Naked and Afraid”.
Not that I know that personally.

Pain can take you to some really low places.

OK, enough.
I’m now returning to my current binge:
Benedict Cumberbatch.
In “Sherlock”.

I’m only 2 episodes in but I’m finding him thoroughly enjoyable.
Hopefully he won’t pull a Kerry Washington on me.
There’s only so much winter white a person can stand.

I Know It’s Hard to Believe ……

…… but this little monster has gained a HUGE 9 ounces since I got her!!!

She went to the vet today to get her second set of shots and a check up. She’s doing great, if you don’t count the fact that she has a hernia that will have to be repaired.
I’m starting to doubt the professionalism of the “breeder”.

The positive thing is that we can fix that when we spay her at 5 months.
And when I say “we”, I mean the vet. While I feel that I could comfortably deliver a baby at any point in time, I do not have the skills to remove anything else from a body.
I’m using the royal we.
I don’t know why.

I have spent the better part of today putting together a Thanksgiving menu for our family of …… let me count …… ummmmmm, me, five of my kids, my parents, Daughter #3’s boyfriend (I know!), my brother and his two daughters and hopefully my sister in law.
What does that give us? 13?
Yeah, 13. Hopefully not the unlucky number most people pin on it.

So yeah, recipes. Yawn.
I think I’m pretty much sticking with anything Pioneer Woman makes.
Heart-clogging, creamy deliciousness.
For one day a year.

Except for the turkey.
For that main even I’m using a brine recipe that I saw on the Steve Harvey show.
Do NOT judge my tv viewing. I think that guy is a no-nonsense parent, a terrific husband who puts his wife first, and he says what he thinks and lets the chips fall where they may.
Having said that, I’m not a regular viewer, but the TV was on one day last week and when I walked into the room he had a guy on there fixing a turkey using Dadgum That’s Good Brine.
And that’s pretty much when I knew what I was doing to our turkey.

After I found all of the recipes I wanted, made up a shopping list for everything (Oh. My. Word.),
took a shower, and got ready to leave for the grocery store …… I got to the garage and then thought better of it. I want the fresh stuff that I have to purchase to be fresh next Wednesday, so I decided to put the shopping trip off until Monday.
This may have been a terrible judgement call.
We shall see.

Speaking of taking a shower …… I happen to have a walk-in shower. Which means that there’s no door.
I have no problem with that and in fact, I happen to enjoy having one less glass door/shower curtain to clean.
But today, for the first time since I got her, Gracie showed what it’s like to have such a teensy brain.
She always follows me around. Always. And everywhere. It’s like having a two year old again, when you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without tiny fingers being stuck under the door and the wailing of the dying going on because of the 60-second separation.

Now, she usually just sits in the bathroom and waits on me to come out of the shower, but evidently she was feeling extra needy today because she just walked right into the shower. And I have to tell you that she’s not a water-lover. If she’s ever gotten close to the water in the shower, she’s backed off quickly.
But not today.
She marched right in, whining the whole time.
Do you know how difficult it is to take a shower while a tiny, 2 pound, 9 ounce, fur ball is circling your feet?
I’m totally going to have to get one of those necklaces so that I can call someone and say, “I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.”
She’s going to kill me.

On the bright side, it was a terrific way to get her bathed and now she smells just as wonderful as I do.

I tackled another project today, and I must say that I think I did a great job:
Yep, I put that together. Plus the glider ottoman that goes with it.
It’s going upstairs in the guest room, which will soon contain a white crib.
It had a white crib in it when I got home on Monday. Son #2 had put it together, but some of the slats had been pretty damaged in transit, so I took it apart, boxed it back up and hauled it downstairs for the UPS guy to pick up, which he did this morning.
I think the replacement crib will arrive Friday, so we’ll start all over.

Now you need to know that this crib (and various other baby stuff I got) is not just because of Little Bit.
It’s for any and all future Little Bits. Or Medium Bits.
The room looks really great, so I’ll have to keep that in mind the next time Son #3 comes home and lights into me for putting that stuff in “his” room.
And “light into me” is putting it mildly.

Oh well.
Such is the curse of a horrible mother.

OK, so I have a question. How big of a turkey should I get for 13 people? I’d appreciate any turkey advice you can give.
Most of the other dishes can be made the day before, which is exactly what I plan to do.

It is now time to rustle something up for dinner (See? I’m already sounding like the Pioneer Woman!).

Take it easy, Peeps, and if you have any terrific suggestions for Thanksgiving meals, bring ’em on!

Back to Sleeping ……

…… through the night.
Well, as through the night as I can with a tiny little puppy who has a bladder the size of a dime.

I’m happy to say that the visit with Little Bit’s mother went very well. She’s very grateful and appreciative of all of the love Daughter #2 has been showering upon him. It sounds like she’s working very hard to be the mom he deserves when the time comes.
And that’s a very good thing.

I’m not gonna lie.
It will be harder than hell to say good bye to him …… to know that we’ll most likely never see him again.
There will be grief.
But there will also be joy that he’ll be where he’s supposed to be.
And I’m sure it won’t be long before D#2 will have her hands full with another foster child.
Have I told you lately that I think she’s amazing?
Because she totally is.

Today I went to see my rheumatologist. I can’t remember if I mentioned this or not, but when I last saw him 3 months ago, he put me on Plaquenil, which is for the prevention and treatment of malaria.
Lucky me …… I’m killing two birds with one pill. Hopefully easing the pain of whatever inflammatory disease is racking my body …… AND thumbing my nose at any mosquitoes in the area!

Well, to my utter surprise, the med has indeed helped with the pain. I would say that it’s at least 50% better. Which is a two-fold success. First, and most obvious, it’s nice to be in less pain 24/7. And secondly, it proves that there is indeed some kind of inflammatory crap inside my body so I’m not insane.
Well, at least not about that.

So we continue this plan of attack, and by we, I mean me. I don’t think he’s taking this med.
I see him again in 3 months, and as long as all goes well (he thinks that the improvement will grow beyond 50%) and I don’t have any problems with my eyes (a big bad side effect), we’ll continue on this path.
So yay for that.
Less pain is always something I’ll cheer for.

Gracie is getting used to being back at the house. She still follows me every where, which can be a huge pain.
For her.
She’s so very easy to step on!
And even though I think she’s a wee bit insane, I really love having her around. She is just a bouncing bundle of joy and love.
She definitely has a Napoleon complex and has no idea that she’s the size of an average guinea pig.
We’re currently working on litter training, “sit”, and “no biting”. She’s doing pretty well.
We’re also working on trying to keep her tiny body warm.
She’s less than thrilled:


Speaking of animals, before I arrived home I received a phone call from the guy who does my landscaping and was told that a group of wild hogs is going nuts in my neighborhood. And …… they decided to take out all of the small pine trees that we had planted several months ago.
Except I’m joining the NRA and going hog hunting.

So I have to replace some trees.
Stupid pigs.

Wild animals hate me.
And the feeling is starting to be very mutual.

That’s it for now.
I still haven’t caught up on my sleep, even though I’ve heard that’s not possible.
I’m still going to give it the ol’ college try.
I’m tired of being wiped out before 9:00 p.m.
While I agree that I’m old …… I’m not THAT old!!

Oh, and the Heart Walk went extremely well!! The Humble ISD won second place in fundraising!!
It was a beautiful day for walking 3 miles and it was over way too soon. I’m looking forward to doing it again next year. Thank you to all of you who donated!
This is the picture you see when you enter “Jim’s building”:

And this is the Eggers Team. We rocked!

Before I go I want to thank all of you who commented here and on Face Book after my last post about D#2.
Thank you for the lovely things you said about me and my mothering.
You know, when you’re told you’re horrible enough times …… you start to believe it.
So the kind and loving comments made me cry.
And still do.
I miss the person who always had my back …… who always made me feel wonderful, loved and supported.
Life is very different when that goes away.

So thank you again.
I appreciate your kindness.
More than I can say.

Grab A Tissue ……

…… or two, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I’m trying very, very hard to not cry while I type this, but I’m not succeeding too well.
It is what it is.

Tomorrow I’m hitching a ride back to Houston with Daughter #2, Little Bit, and her case worker. They’re taking Little Bit to go see his mother.
And while I know that D2 is at peace with this, I also know that the thought of this makes her stomach lurch a bit.

(These are the cutest booties ever!!  I bought them at Target and hope he can wear them at Christmas.)





I won’t be there for the meeting …… Son #2 is meeting us beforehand to take me home. I wish I could be there for D2. I wish I could hold her hand or at least keep a hand on her back during this meeting.

But I can’t.
She’s an adult and this is her life. I can only watch from the outside, and help when I can. And when I’m allowed.

(This is Gracie, lying down with Little Bit.)

It’s been a very nice, very peaceful week. Little Bit and I have hung out pretty much non-stop every day, until “Mama” comes home from work and then needs a baby-fix.

This little boy is so very, very blessed.
As is she.

I’ve been watching her a lot this week. There have been a couple of times when we’ve banged heads a little. Not so much banged, as maybe clunked.
All I can do is suggest things, tell her what I’ve found that has worked. It’s up to her to either take that advice, or go her own way.
She tends to go her own way.
And while that can be very frustrating, it also makes me very proud of her.
She’s doing this her way.

And I have to tell you, she is the best mother I’ve ever seen.
Hands down.
I wish I could take credit for that, but I know I can’t.
I only wish that I had been half as good as she is.
(Little Bit’s wonderful tummy during bath time.)

In my opinion, the main reason that she’s so very good at this …… is that she knows, without a doubt, that she has this child for only a brief moment. So she loves the hell out of him.
She holds him, talks to him, spends all of her extra time with him.
The house be damned, the laundry be damned, outside activities be damned.


She’s right there. With him.
Loving him, talking to him, teaching him how to trust.

I am so very proud of her.
And I know that Jim is/would be just as proud.
It hurts to watch her alone.
I cry that he’s not here to experience this.
But it is what it is.


This baby will be with her for only 2 more months. Maybe three.
But no longer.


He will then go back to his mother. Where he should be.
That’s the goal …… to keep families together.
And it’s what D2 wants …… in her heart of hearts.
She knows the end will be painful.
She knows that it will hurt.
She knows that she’ll grieve for him.


But she also knows that she’ll rejoice for him and his mother.
She’ll be happy to put them back together.
And she’ll be proud of helping to start his life with the love and strength that his mother couldn’t.
She’ll know that she gave him what he needed to start his life on a positive track.

She is the most amazing person that I know.
She has been called to this life of taking care of other people’s children …… when they can’t. For as long as they need her.
And she’s been called to give them back …… no matter the circumstance, no matter how much time has gone by, no matter.


Too bad we all can’t mother the way that she does.
I don’t even do it now. I hold him as much as I can, but I also end up putting him down so that I can maybe do a load of laundry or clean up some dishes.
I try to get other things done …… rather than just holding him and relishing every single second.

I wish I could’ve been more like her.
She’s amazing.
She’s so full of love and patience and more love.
I hope I can be like her when I grow up.

(Gracie, loving on Little Bit.)

She’s an amazing woman.
I love her so very, very much.
And am blessed to call her my daughter.


I hope Jim feels the same way.

How in THE Hell ……

…… Did I Do This With Six??!!!


I realize that I was younger back then, but SIX?!
I must’ve been insane.

I’m in Waco this week, taking care of Little Bit at night so that Daughter #2 can get some much-needed sleep. I’m also watching him during the day. For no reason other than helping her out a bit and spending time with him.
He eats every three to four hours. Mostly three.
Throughout the day AND night.

Last night/this morning I got up at 1:30 and 5:30 to feed him.
And then got up at 2:30 and 6:30, because he’s only sleeping about an hour after a bottle. Then he wakes up and cries. I think he may have reflux.
And he’s dealing with constipation …… bless his tiny heart.
So. Much. Fun.

D #2 just got home from work.
I’m still in my pj’s.
Little Bit hasn’t napped longer than 30 or 40 minutes all day.
I managed to get the dishes done (without a dishwasher).
Although it took me two consecutive feedings to finish them.

I did not manage to get a shower.

OK, really …… SIX?!!!!!
I’m a walking zombie and it’s only Day One!!

But, I did manage to get him to smile and coo at me a few times today. He’s just starting that, so it doesn’t happen often yet.
But we’re working on it.

In other news, I have another new Little Bit, only she’s really Littlest Bit:
This is Gracie.
Gracie Lou Freebush.
I KNOW!!!!!
Isn’t she THE cutest thing ever?!!

I got her a couple of weeks ago when I was in Oklahoma.
She’s been my secret project.
I’ve been looking for a Teacup Yorkie breeder for a while, and did a search in the area of Okla that I was going to be in and Voila! I just happened to find one who had just posted Gracie (she named her Peyton — I changed it) the day before I searched.
So I picked her up that weekend and then we flew back to Texas.
And then to NY.
And then to Waco!
She’s only 8 weeks old and she’s already well-traveled.

Daughter #2 and #3 decided that she should have her own Instagram account, so they created it last night.
You can follow her here

She actually got me a little prepared for this week, since I get up with her twice during the night to let her relieve herself.
In a litter box.

Yep, I’m litter training her, which I discovered is a common thing, especially with small dogs and ESPECIALLY in New York (or any big city with high rise apartment buildings).
While I was researching the breed and how best to train them, I happened upon some articles about puppy litter boxes. It didn’t take more than a nano second to decide that was the way to go.
So far she’s doing pretty well. She’s not totally trained yet, but I’d say she uses the box about 80% of the time. Not too shabby for a baby.

She is as adorable as she looks, except for when she’s chewing on your fingers …… or toes.
She’s teething like a madman (do madmen teethe?) so she’s constantly looking for something to chew on.
We’re working on that.
And keeping all shoes some place high.
Well, “high” as in maybe 12 inches from the ground.

She weighs two pounds right now and will get to be around 5 when she’s fully grown.
A beast, I know.

She squeaks a lot, kind of like a guinea pig, which she may be more related to than any dog.
She just found out that she has a bark a few days ago.
She seemed very surprised at the time.
And then she thought she was all that and a bag of chips.
A bag of chips that could bark.

So we are over-flowing with cuteness around here.
Which makes the sleep deprivation easier to deal with.

I’m also dealing with either a badly strained/torn oblique muscle, or I’m slowly losing a kidney or appendix. The pain is intense and has been since last Wednesday. I must’ve done something during a barre class, but nothing hurt at the time. The pain came the next day, after I did some stretches. Nothing big, and again, I didn’t feel any pain at the time.
But I’ve felt it big time 24/7 since then.
Just another thing to add to the fun.

Speaking of that, it’s baby-crying time, so I’d better go assist.
Her baby …… not mine.

These Are the Last ……

…… 4 days.

This is my focus this week.
Please share this. Please help me reach my fundraising goal. I’m almost there, but it would be wonderful to go over that.   I hope to see a lot of friends on Saturday morning.
I wish I were walking for something else. I wish that heart disease had never touched my life. Or my children’s lives.
But it did.
So there you go.

I’m walking.
And hoping that awareness is raised.
So that it touches fewer and fewer lives.
Thank you for sharing. And giving.

If you knew Jim, or even knew/know of him,  please donate in his memory. Then that money will go towards helping to make sure no one else dies of an aortic dissection, and it’ll be like he helped to find a cure.
Kind of.

Here’s the link:

Welcome to the Donation Page of

Janine Eggers

Janine Eggers Personal ImageJanine Eggers Personal Image
Join me in my efforts to support the American Heart Association!

Thank you for visiting my page. I have a passion to eradicate deaths due to aortic dissection. I think the best way to do this is to figure out how to test for this silent killer. Jim had a full physical, with a stress test, two weeks before he died, yet no one knew to look for the time bomb that would end his life in just 2 short weeks.
I get emotional when I think of other wives losing their husbands to this killer (and I have 4 friends who did). Please help us to find a test or even a cure for Aortic Dissection.



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  • From susan senechalIn Support Of janine eggers
  • From Tami Lindgren
  • From anonymous
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  • From Vicki MosierIn Memory Of Jim Eggers
  • From anonymous
  • From Wendie TobinIn Memory Of Jim Eggers
  • From anonymous
  • $100From Ann GoforthIn Memory Of Jim Eggers, Thomas B Dutton and Elizabeth G Dutton
  • From Andrew & Anna ShaferIn Honor Of Jim Eggers
  • From Barbara IdzerdaIn Honor Of Jim Eggers

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I Love My Neighborhood ……

…… here in New York.
Except …… for days like tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the New York Marathon.
And no, I”m not running in it.
Though I doubt that any of you thought that for even a nano second.
If you did, you must be new here.
And know that I don’t run.
For pretty much anything.
Except maybe a sighting of George.

But my neighborhood is smack in the thick of things for the marathon.
Which means that you see a lot of this:

These barricades are going up all over around here. And tomorrow will be totally insane.
If I leave my apartment building, I won’t be able to get back in unless I have a proper I.D.
Which means that I’ll be hunkering down for the day.
Hunkering, as in …… what we all did during that last hurricane in Houston.
Except I don’t think I’ll need extra water or batteries.
But you never know.
Maybe I should go fill up the bathtub when I’m done here.

As crazy as this weekend gets, the day before Thanksgiving is worse.
That’s because they blow up the parade balloons not far from here.
And they shut down all traffic in this area.
Including foot traffic.
Last year we went to watch the balloons get blown up (?), and when I tried to go home, the police wouldn’t let me.
I had to walk in a very, very large circle to go around all of the barricades.
Did I mention that it was freezing that day?
If any of you watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, you might remember that they had to lower all of the balloons because of the wind.
A freakishly cold and very, very strong wind.

So …… yeah.
I love my neighborhood.
I love that I have two major subway stations on either side of me.
I love that I can walk to Times Square, and the Theatre District, in about 20 minutes.
I love that Central Park is behind my building.

But I’m not a fan of the barricades.
Or the fact that it’s kind of hard to prove that you live here when you don’t have a driver’s license that backs that up.
Or any other kind of I.D.

On the other hand, it’s very cold and rainy right now.
And is supposed to continue to be tomorrow.
So it will be a great day to hole up.

Today I tortured myself in barre class.
And then I went to a play with several friends from the Manhattan Women’s Club.
Which sounds so much more posh than it is.

We went to see Tail! Spin!, an off-Broadway play about a few crummy politicians. It was hilarious.
And, since I didn’t do any research about it, I was surprised when the small cast came out, and the one female cast member (with four men) was Rachel Dratch.
You know, from Saturday Night Live. For 7 years.
This lady:
She did a great job.

Tonight I’ve been watching “Begin Again”, with Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo. Oh, and Adam Levine.
I think that the movie is ok, but I love the soundtrack.
Love it.
For what that’s worth.

I’m still working on my secret project. I’m dying to reveal it, but I have one more week of secrecy.
Unless I just can’t stand it any longer.
And burst.

OK, that’s all.
I have to go watch the police set up the barricades.
I know. Sometimes the excitement is almost too much, isn’t it?