Creamsicles.

I used to love creamsicles. I went to Camp Milldale day camp when I was little and every afternoon in the scorching heat we got a creamsicle or a fudgesicle or something. I love a good fudgesicle, but those creamsicles are memorable. Very, very memorable. I’d know that flavor and consistency anywhere.

I remember a lot of other things about Milldale including the huge hill on the way to the pool and a girl my age named Gertrude. I’d never met anyone my age (or younger) named Gertrude before or since. If I recall correctly, she was very quiet and very nice.

But I digress.

What inspired me so very early this morning (I’m on my way to Amtrak to catch a train north for a meeting) was my daily Hungry Girl email.

Now I love Hungry Girl. Make no mistake.

But today she posted a drink recipe and wrote:

“This low-calorie cocktail tastes EXACTLY like those sherbet ‘n ice cream bars you used to eat as a kid… Mmmmmmmm!”

Now you tell me, if you put diet orange soda, orange-flavored vodka, Torani Sugar Free Vanilla Syrup, and Cool Whip Free in a blender, will it taste exactly like sitting on the hill at Camp Milldale?

I think not. In fact, the Splenda alone is enough to….. well anyway. It might taste wonderful. It might be refreshing.

But it can’t taste like my memories of a sweet, creamy, orangy frozen treat.

Fresh.

Searching for ideas
Googled dittie for giggles
It’s a new tampon.

Speaking of mamas…

more graph humor and song chart memes

What’s a mom to do?

One of the most important jobs of being a parent, I believe, is to be supportive. To allow your child to have his hopes and dreams. And to help him find a path to achieve these dreams.

I think most of you will agree.

Surely, I was encouraged by my parents to work hard and to be whatever I wanted. When I showed an interest in art, they gave me art lessons. When I wanted to dance, they gave me dance lessons.

Truth be told, that dance teacher did tell my parents to use their money in a more productive way after year one. It was harsh. Crushed me. But she was right. It’s not one of my strengths. Grace, that is.

But I digress.

I want to be an encouraging mom. I want to help my sons grow into wonderfully productive men who live full and happy lives. And I want them to reach their goals.

Except.

I was reading the elementary school yearbook when I saw that one of my charming boys was quoted as saying, “In the year 2028, I hope to be a dictator of Khazakstan.”

So what’s a mom to do?

Order this?

Happy Father’s Day to the grandfathers…

Sure, we’re making a huge fuss for Andrew today. Fun presents. Breakfast out (huevos rancheros) and then he chooses the day’s activities. I suspect we’ll hang out at the pool.

A nice quiet day.

So we’re sending a shout-out to them both. Happy Father’s Day Grandpa and Pop Pop. We love you.

Reluctantly. Yeah, no. Not reluctantly.

Tonight, we went to a graduation party. My old friend’s daughter graduated from college.

I know!

Hard to believe. She is an amazing kid. How did she get this grown up?

Anyway. While there, I had the great surprise of seeing my friend, Tom. And lots of other friends too, so Mitchell, I do not want to hear you pouting that I didn’t mention you by name. Not you either, HH or the rest of you.

I really want to tell you about Tom. And not just because of his boyish good looks and charm. Also because I am seriously loving his new blog, The Reluctant Bachelor. He has great stories to tell and he’s a great writer. So if you get a second, check it out.

Escape from Cubicle Nation

If you know me on Twitter, you know that somehow, Pam Slim’s fab site, Escape from Cubicle Nation and my account are cosmically aligned.

No seriously, my Twitter picks up every new blog post she makes - all by itself. It’s wacky. We’ve tried to figure it out. (Hey, nice way to ‘meet’ someone new!) It’s awfully strange, but the good news is that I’ve become a regular reader of her site and she has some great information for entrepreneurs and really, anyone who works independently (or not!).

So yeterday, she put up this: Media request: woman 40 + who wants to make big career change and needs help which also means that I tweeted it (not intentionally!) but I was thinking of a few people I know who read my blog who might be into this.

“We are looking for a woman over 40 who is making a major career change and needs some help from our new advice column. Examples could be giving up her career on Wall Street to start a jewelry business or go from schoolteacher to karate instructor. Whatever the case, she is a woman who is in the process of giving her career a makeover-but she is unsure of the next step.”

Deadline is TODAY June 14 - so if you’re up for it, check the link and respond!

Last day of school.

Summer is here at our house. Today is the last day of school.

I’m ambivalent.

I love the freedom of no schedules and sleeping late. Sure there are a few weeks with camp, but in general? Pretty laid back for us.

Dinners at the pool. Hikes on the cooler afternoons. Picnics.

I can barely wait.

Funny, the cats don’t look Jewish

Check out this article in the Baltimore Sun. And buy a calendar. Trust me.

The great cemetery tour of June 2008.

On Friday, I took the day off. I know. Unheard of! But my mom asked me if I wanted to go with her to the cemeteries where her parents and my father’s parents are buried to check on the condition of the stones, etc. She’d heard from a cousin who is also into genealogy (my mom has the most extensive family tree done!) that my paternal grandmother’s headstone was falling over. Plus, she told me that that cemetery was recently vandalized, so it was time to see for ourselves. (As it turns out, the vandalism was in 1991 - I looked it up. I suppose recent is a matter of perspective.) At any rate, she sweetened the deal with a lunch date and I was all over it. We went to a new place in Canton, Sauté, which we enjoyed very much. I took tons of photos on our tour. My favorites are…

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That’s my maternal grandfather, Daddy Joe.

My maternal grandmother, Nana.

My mom puts some stones on her family’s headstone. Jews place stones on graves to show respect and remembrance. Also, I’ve read that laying a stone on the grave is symbolically taking a part in the burial process, which is one of the highest good deeds a Jew can perform.

These are my paternal grandparents. I never met my grandfather and my grandmother, Betsy (Nana G.) was a wonderfully eccentric woman. I loved spending time with her and hearing her stories.

I thought this stone was cool-looking and then realized this child was only 4 months old and died in 1902. How sad.

These are my maternal great-grandparents. I remember them well! My great-grandmother wore black shoes that laced up the back. They both had strong accents. They were very kind.

This is the stone for my great uncle Bernie. He was a concert cellist. Neat stone, huh?

I just liked this shot.

This is my paternal great grandmother, Bam. I have heard lots of stories about this woman. Lots. For another day, maybe.

This is my paternal great grandfather. He died young, as you can see.

And this one? I couldn’t resist the shot. My mom thought it was morbid. But oh, well. I was even thinking of making the blog header out of this. I might just do it….