Category Archives: June

Happy Father’s Day!

Happy Father’s Day

As I write this newsletter, my daddy is sitting in a hospital waiting to go home.  He’s been there several days after a collapse at home and a diagnoses of pneumonia.  This is his second hospitalization for pneumonia this year and naturally, everyone in the family is concerned.  Daddy has an amazing spirit, though, and I’d like to share some of the things that keep him going:

Daddy is very slow to anger, but when he blows, find the nearest cast iron bathtub to crouch down in.  For daddy, explosion is sometimes the best medicine.

Daddy would rather be on the water (ON, not IN) than ANYwhere else in the world.  Preferably in silence.

Daddy is a man of few words (hence the silence above).

At 83, Daddy still races in regattas, and still wins.

Clint Eastwood looks a great deal like my daddy.

Daddy has a very dry sense of humour, and he’s so slick you don’t even know that sometimes it’s directed AT you.

Daddy has a hard time saying no to the people he loves.  This makes them love him more.

Daddy is a well respected Harley “dude”, at 82 graduating from a Heritage Softail to a Freewheeler Trike.

Once daddy makes a promise, you can count on it.  You can really count on my dad.

Daddy hobnobs with some extremely hi-falutin’ people.  You’d never know it.  Daddy’s never thrown a name around (Jimmy Buffet for one) or tried to impress anyone with his connections (Russian Olympic Sailing Team, America’s Cup winners, Silicon Valley billionaires).  As you can see I am not above throwing names around on behalf of my daddy.

Daddy doesn’t get to indulge in his favorite foodstuffs very often anymore because of his health problems, so in honor of him this Father’s Day, Lula’s is offering some of the things he loves.  Click here to see Lula’s for Lunch…and More! father’s day menu.  I love you daddy, and I miss you!

The Definition of Exhaustion

The Definition of Exhaustion

wine reducing

 

First, let’s make my grocery list. It’s 8:45 AM and I can get to Jazzercise by 9:30 if I just concentrate on the list. Exercise is essential to keep the panic attacks at bay! Hard to do – no sleep last night; so excited about all of the commitments that have been made  to deliver a wonderful culinary experience. Finish the list just in time! 2 pickups to make; shouldn’t take too much time right after Jazzercise – I can be back in the kitchen whirring away by 11:30AM.

Head to the car. Life is good. Get in the car, and realize there’s no grocery list. Exasperated, walk back in the house to retrieve the list which must be on the counter by the door where I keep my purse. Not there. Go into the office – gotta be on the desk, right? Not there. Search the kitchen – there’s a counter where I always put my lists – recipes, menus, work orders, all things pertinent to the business I RUN – that’s easily visible from the “slinging hash” station and the sink and fridge. Not there. Have a meltdown. Sink to the floor, tears streaming, cursing why? WHY? WHYEEEEEE? as my husband jumps up and frantically searches the whole building for the list that is preventing me from starting my day. Tears still streaming, I rise to the occasion (literally) and retrace all steps screaming “Now I’ll NEVER get to Jazzercise!” which is indeed, true. I am too late now to get the exercise I so desperately need to keep my meltdowns to a minimum. Husband does not find list. One last time, I retrace my steps and LIGHTBULB, I remember I dropped a pizza box (Marco’s, if you haven’t tried it) into the recycling bin right before I opened the car door. Check the bin. List on top.

Relieved now, let’s re-think this. Perhaps missing Jazzercise isn’t such a bad thing. I can get a head start on my long day; gain an hour. I’ll just head straight to the first stop and get a jump on this “I’m wonder woman I can do this” day. Get to my destination, realize it’s Sunday and the store doesn’t open till 10AM – so I wait. Wait in the car for 25 minutes. Watch everybody else who knew better slowly start herding toward the door and I am reminded of an amusement park line. I wait till 10AM SHARP to get out of my car and think I’ll waltz right in. No…it IS an amusement park line! Everyone jostling and trying to cut the line, and evil determined faces making sure no one is going to get that melon before THEY do! I slowly and resignedly wait my turn, enter, saunter to the back of the store (I’ve got plenty of time, remember- I missed Jazzercise- even though I just lost 25 minutes). I pull my list out, no, wait, the list isn’t in my purse ? I dig deeper. No list. Must have left it in the car. Frustrated, I retrace my steps back to the car hoping it might be on the ground somewhere in between and save me a few steps (I would rather park far away from the store right next to a cart drop off than close to the store and have to return the cart). No list. All the way back to the car. The list sits waiting for me. Retrieve the list, smile (it’s a choice!), and resume my day.

First leg of the journey of this day done. Should have been the 2nd leg, but what the heck. I’m only exactly where I intended to be at the beginning of the morning – on schedule as if I HAD attended Jazzercise.

Next stop. Retrieve list from the seat beside me, no, wait…where’s the list? I ALWAYS put the list on the seat, or at LEAST in my purse. My purse, that’s it. Look in the purse. No list. Dig deeper. No list. Turn the car back on, drive back to my last purveyor and check the parking lot – first stop – cart drop off. There sits my cart! But no list. Frantically drive to front of store and park illegally (I don’t have TIME for this) with blinkers on, run in, first to the customer service center (surely someone would be NICE and hand it in). Not a chance. Retrace steps to checkout line – no one has seen a thing. March furiously back to the vehicle, contemplate giving up, scratch that idea because I CAN’T give up, people are DEPENDING on Lula’s for Lunch…and More! Catering (note to self – a sense of self-importance might lead to panic attacks)!  Drive back to destination # 2 , wander around the store helplessly, hoping to remember 3 or 4 of the most necessary items on my list, spend about an hour drifting amongst the aisles, happily recognizing a list member or two and throwing it in my cart. Wander aimlessly to checkout, pay, drive slowly and giddily home. Slower and slower now…each item gets put in its proper place. Realize this day was simply not meant to be. Float upstairs, crawl under the covers, and wait for another day. It’s 11:30 AM.

I’m too tired to figure out the moral of this story. Please submit.