Showing posts with label Beach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beach. Show all posts

Friday, March 24, 2023

Fly On The Wall During March Madness

Welcome to another edition of Fly On The Wall group blog postings hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today, it's just the two of us sharing an inside look at what goes on in our homes behind closed doors. 

This is the month for college basketball, brackets, and March Madness, but I don't watch basketball, and the only brackets I know of are the ones that hold up the towels in my bathroom. As for madness....well, just look at my crazy family. We're all mad, I tell ya. March has actually been an awesome month for the Doyles--we celebrated a birthday, drank green beer on St. Patrick's Day, went BACK to the Renaissance Festival for round #3 with our close friends, enjoyed some nature trails at a Japanese garden, had a beach picnic party, and of course, indulged in some good eats at local restaurants. Busy but FUN month! The fly is feeling quite satisfied right now, so here is a peek at March through the eyes of my (cell phone) camera   

When I saw this beautiful spot at the Morikami Japanese Garden, I had to take a photo of it. Now I really wish I could paint it like I know my mother would have done.

Family love!


Smooches at Morikami--our favorite place to be.

A Viking, a fairy, and 2 pirates walked into a bar at the Renaissance Festival and.....

Guess what day it is?


Green glasses, green champagne, but no green shirt? My daughter
needs to get pinched!
 

She just kissed the Blarney Stone....


Shenanigans all the way around.


Nonni with her 3 grandbabies--the loves of my life!

Celebrating my birthday girl.


2 of my 4 babies...all grown up.

My bestest drinking buddy...and future son-in-law.

Hanging out with friends at the beach picnic for my daughter's birthday party!


The guys finally made it to the party....




The grill master hard at work.

Getting into the inflatable couch was easy. Getting out...not so much....


When my 2 youngest get together, there is ALWAYS some mischief involved.

The family that couches together, stays together....FOREVER....

That was our fun March Madness. I can't wait to see what April brings! 

***Want More Meno Mama? I am beyond thrilled to have another humor piece published on the famous MCSWEENEY'S site--I did a hilarious food review collab with funny writer Amy Barnes. Read about our experience with "Peeps Pepsi" HERE You can also find me at AARP sharing recipes for some yummy spring drinks HERE

Be sure to buzz around Karen's house too and see what funny things she and her family have been up to! 

 

Baking In A Tornado                                https://www.BakingInATornado.com



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Friday, September 23, 2022

Fly On The Wall Of Financial Woes

     Welcome to another edition of Fly On The Wall group blog postings hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today, four bloggers are bravely letting you into their homes for a sneak peek at what goes on behind closed doors. If you were a fly on the wall at my house these past few weeks, you'd hear a lot of complaining about expenses. First, we had to pay off the medical balance for my sweet fur baby's surgery and ICU time. As you know, we lost her despite making heroic efforts to save her. This hurt us in more ways than I can express. Then, we really got slammed with repair bills in August and September. My laptop needed a new battery, my home speaker system blew out, the car still needs a new alternator and the hot tub got fried when the power went out and now needs a new motherboard---all ridiculously expensive. Is Mercury in retrograde again?? Not to mention the increase in interest rates and oh-mm-gee, GROCERY PRICES! My youngest moved back home temporarily a few months ago and all he does is EAT.  

     But all is not lost. I am incredibly grateful to have my whole family living nearby and they are the joy of my life. So who cares if things are tight right now? Next month looks promising! Anyway, here is all the bitching that the fly overheard in my house this month:



"How do you like your expensive new lenses?"
"These progressive glasses make me feel progressively worse about my finances." 



"What's on your bucket list?"
"In light of our recent bills, you can forget my bucket list. I can't even afford the bucket."



"Since we can't afford to go out this weekend, why don't we make a picnic lunch and go to the beach instead?"
"No way--- the last time we did that, you forgot to bring the sunscreen and I ended up looking like a six-month-old forgotten potato in the back of the vegetable drawer."
"At least you didn't grow sprouts...." 



"It won't be like this forever once we get caught up on our bills. There really is a light at the end of the tunnel."
" I hope I see the right light at the end of the tunnel before I see the other one that says, 'Go toward the light..."


"This beach sand is impossible to remove from my feet. It sticks like glitter."
"Hey, that's a great idea---I could invent sand glitter foot scrub and get rich."
"Only if you invent the removal first." 



"Why are you making such an ugly face?"
"Because I'm reading our latest electric bill."
"Don't hold that expression for too long--it might stick."
"As long as we keep getting outrageous bills like this in the mail, this IS my new face."

     Well, it looks like we both have new faces now after paying all the bills. At least they're paid up!

***Want more Meno Mama? I've been super busy---buzzing around the web faster than any old fly. My latest articles for AARP include one for yummy dessert recipes (read it HERE) and a humor piece about my bucket list (read it HERE). And then over at Family Matters, I have a piece up about best historical dramas (yes, I'm an addict!) which you can read HERE. I have also been writing for a new website called The Midlife.com. You can read it HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE Enjoy!

 

Buzz around these other blogs for a peek into some other homes:

 

Baking In A Tornado                                https://www.BakingInATornado.com

                                

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver         https://thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog

 

What TF Sarah                                      https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

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Friday, April 26, 2019

A Perfect Day For A Perfect Wedding

     One of the most exciting aspects of parenthood is witnessing your adult children move onto the next important chapter in their lives when they exchange wedding vows with their significant other.

     Last weekend my husband and I had the pleasure of seeing our son marry the love of his life in a romantic ceremony on the beach. The reception was held at one of their favorite venues and we danced late into the night until some of us old folks had blisters on our feet. The bride's family went above and beyond in planning one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever seen! They worked tirelessly to make sure everything was perfect, and it was. The celebration was spread out over the entire weekend, and I have to admit, those days were some of the happiest times of my life.


     Below are a few photos out of the thousands that were taken. I'm sharing just a handful of my favorite moments from that enchanting day:

First, we jammed up the elevator which took forever to reach the ground floor of the hotel


Gorgeous beach day = a wedding in paradise


They shared their own, beautiful vows. Not a dry eye on the beach!

               
The Newlyweds (photo courtesy of Brandi Toole Photography)


The beautiful bridesmaids (photo courtesy of Brandi Toole Photography)


The dashing groomsmen (photo courtesy of Brandi Toole Photography)

The proud parents of the groom


The newlyweds were very kind to one another---no cake in the face!

What would a wedding reception be without a photo booth??

More shenanigans

Proud Mama dancing with the groom

A perfect day for a perfect wedding (photo courtesy of Brandi Toole Photography)


Now I just have to marry off my other three children.....


***For all photography inquiries, please visit http://www.branditoolephoto.com
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Friday, October 27, 2017

Winter Writer Series: Guest Post By Margaret Lashley

     I'm thrilled to have Margaret Lashley, author of Glad One: Starting Over Is A @%&%#! , on the blog today! I "met" Margaret online in one of the social media writer's groups that I belong to, and immediately felt that I had found a kindred spirit. Margaret has written several funny, women's fiction books, and today she is generously sharing a chapter from her latest. On Amazon, the book is described as, "Glad One is a satirical look at divorce, single-hood and climbing back up the social scale told through the eyes of a sarcastic, reluctantly redneck woman who's a magnet for the absurd."

     I'm already hooked after reading several chapters----Margaret's humor is something I can certainly relate to, and I think that you will, too!


                         GLAD ONE: STARTING OVER IS A @%&%#!


St. Petersburg, Florida only had two seasons – summer and not- summer-yet. It was not-summer-yet, but just barely. I first met Glad on May 10, 2009. I remember because I was trying to make the most of “The end of days.” I called the first two weeks of May that because anybody with any sense (translation, not a tourist or a transplant), didn’t venture out in the Florida sun between 10 a.m. and 5 p.m. from the middle of May to the end of October. Not if they could help it, that is. And with no job at the time, I could help it.
I was determined to get to Sunset Beach early that Sunday. Not just to beat the heat, but the five-dollar fee as well. If I got there before the lot attendant, I could park for free at Caddy’s, my favorite beach bar.

I was attracted to Sunset Beach for three reasons. One, it was gorgeous – sugar-white sand and water the color of a fresh robin’s egg. Two, the tourists hadn’t discovered it yet. And three, it was the only local strip of beach that allowed open containers (aka BYOB alcohol). Caddy’s bar sat right on gorgeous Sunset Beach, sandwiched between a patch of virgin sand dunes and a recently erected, three-story McMansion the color of pumpkin puke.

In stunning contrast to the prissy new house, Caddy’s was pure, relaxed, old-school Florida. To be honest, it wasn’t much more than an old beach shack with a front porch and a rooftop deck scabbed onto it with bent nails and duct tape. The bottom floor facing the Gulf didn’t even have an exterior wall. If it rained hard or the temperature dropped below 65 degrees, the easy-going folks at Caddy’s unfurled plastic flaps like tent windows against the inclement weather. But on good days, which were most days, there’d be nothing between Caddy’s tipsy patrons and the turquoise Gulf of Mexico but a hundred feet of squeaky, blindingly white sand. Caddy’s fit right in with its laid-back vibe, good food, live music and a full liquor bar. Being a native Floridian, I appreciated that it wasn’t a tiki bar. After all, this was not freaking Hawaii.

When I got to the beach that morning, I’d planned on getting in a stroll before the humidity turned the air to soup, and then the sun heated that soup to steam. I thought about splurging for breakfast at one of Caddy’s picnic tables on the beach afterward. But being a loner, and on a budget as tight as last year’s jeans, I decided against it.

It was Mother’s Day. Not being a mother myself, or having one I was keen to celebrate, I planned to let the day go by as unnoticed as possible. I got lucky and pulled into the lot in time to avoid the attendant. I slipped off my flip-flops and shorts and put them on the floorboard of Shabby Maggie, my 1963 Ford Falcon Sprint convertible.

I had to admit it. Maggie suited me. Today’s cars all looked the same. I couldn’t have told a Prius from a Pontiac to save my life. But those older cars like Maggie had style. With her curvy, Batmobile rear-end, cherry-red upholstery and Wimbledon-white exterior, Maggie was a classic beauty. All the nicks and dents and faded spots reminded her she’d seen better days. Boy, could I relate.

As I reached into the backseat for my beach bag and chair, a loud wolf whistle rang out over the rumble of a diesel engine. I didn’t even waste the energy to look up. Instead, I just shook my head and wondered what desperate soul could find the sight of my flabby ass in bathing suit worth that much effort. I hoisted my beach chair under one arm, hooked my bag over the other and picked my way across the crushed-shell parking lot.

As I reached the white picket fence leading out to the beach, I spied an old woman lying on a lounger a good fifty feet from the shoreline. I’d seen her there countless times over the last few months. She was a wiry, leather-skinned old bat who, had I met on the street, I’d have labeled a bag lady. But there at the beach she fit right in. Maybe stripping down to a bathing suit somehow leveled the playing field.

To be honest, she reminded me a lot of my friend Berta, a crusty old psychologist from New York. We’d shared some laughs together in Italy, and she’d helped me get through some tough times in Germany. Before she died, Berta had warned me about making friends with strangers. I hadn’t heeded her advice then, but I was trying to now. I couldn’t afford another disastrous mistake.

The old woman always set up camp near the same wispy clump of sea oats, so it had been easy to avoid her so far. That day, however, my luck finally ran out. The wind blew sand in my eye, and as I fumbled along trying to get it out, I’d wandered blindly within earshot of her.

“Nice toe rings,” she croaked in a scarred, toady voice that perfectly matched her appearance.
Sprawled out on a pink, plastic beach lounger, she reminded me of one of those dried-up frogs you can still find now and then in politically incorrect souvenir shops.

I was running on just one cup of coffee that morning, so it took a moment to realize she was talking to me. I sighed and wiped my eye again.

“Thanks.” I turned to take a step toward the water, but the old woman wasn’t having it.

“Wanna beer?”

She grinned at me from under a pink Gilligan hat. Her oversized dentures looked clownish, wedged between two wide smears of bright-red lipstick.

“It’s Sunday, you know. They ain’t servin’ booze ’til ’leven today.”

Her salty-sweet Southern accent had a familiar ring. I’d spent three decades trying to rid myself of one just like it. She tilted her head and motioned toward a small cooler nestled in the sand beside her. I shook my head.

“No thanks. I’m good.”

I forced a smile and gave her a quick once-over. The old lady was one shade up from mahogany and as wrinkled as a linen pantsuit after a high-stakes game of Twister. Her arms and legs looked like four Slim Jims sticking out of a neon green bathing suit. It was the kind of simple, one-piece suit women over forty wear. One that supports the boobs and hides the belly. I was grateful for her modesty.

Freckles and white spots covered the old woman’s dark-brown arms and legs. The Florida sun hadn’t been kind. She could have been fifty-five or ninety-five. With hard-core beach bums, it was impossible to tell. But given the full-on dentures, I placed her in her late sixties – at the youngest.

“Okie dokie then, have it your way,” Slim Jim said.

She watched me carefully from behind black, bug-eyed sunglasses. Her gaze never shifted as she reached instinctively into the cooler, pulled out a can, then cracked the tab on a family-size Fosters. I turned and took another step toward the water when I thought I heard her say, “Screw you, Kiddo.”

I whirled around to face her.

“What?” I asked, thinking I must have heard her wrong......
Want to read more? You can buy the book HERE!

 BIO:

 A lover of laughter and aficionado of the absurd, author Margaret Lashley brings her unique, sideways look at the world to the page in her hilarious and irreverent Val & Pals series of seriously funny women's fiction. Each of her books explores the ups and downs of being a woman while mining life for all the laughs along the way. 

She also penned How to be Happy When Life Treats You Crappy, a personal workbook based on her world-wide travels in search of what makes people resiliently happy. Margaret is a native Floridian and lives in St. Petersburg, Florida. Write to her at: Contact@margaretlashley.com. She loves to hear from fans!

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Friday, July 24, 2015

Fly On The Wall In A Summer House

 
    Welcome to another edition of Fly On The Wall group postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today 13 bloggers are bravely opening their doors to you so that you can be a fly on the wall in their homes.

     I'm enjoying a relaxing summer with my family despite the heat, humidity and mosquitoes. We've been spending a lot of time at the beach in the evenings where I go all "Martha Stewart" and set up a special place for us to picnic. Yes, I actually have a chandelier that hangs from my little tent along with strings of Chinese lanterns and solar lights. We play corn hole and frisbee by sunset and it is at these times that I feel truly blessed to claim this wacky tribe as my family.


     If you were a fly on the wall at our house (or at one of our beach picnics) this month, this is what you would have overheard:

"I ate too much pasta salad at the picnic tonight. I feel like I'm birthing a noodle baby."

"This website that wants to feature one of my blog posts just asked for a photo of me in my natural habitat. That means I need to send them a picture of me with a drink in my hand."

"My armpits stink so bad after being at the beach all day. They smell like sour cream and onion chips."

"I think I missed my calling in life. I could have been a competitive hotdog eater."
"Which is why you've earned the nickname, 'Beefy McSexy.'"

"I've got jello shits from the jello shots we took at the 4th of July party. Everything is coming out like a rainbow."

"Stop rolling over in bed the same time that I roll over."
"I can't help it if we sleep like synchronized swimmers."


"Some mistakes are just too fun to only make once!"

"He wants everyone to party with him every night, but he's the lone wolf when it comes to drinking shots of whiskey."

" I just found an interesting job on the internet. It calls for experience in transitioning cows, replacement heifer programming and experience in milking parlor management. I could be a dairy farmer herdsman!"
"The only thing you know how to herd are the pugs when you hustle them outside to pee."

"I don't like this new toilet paper. It's too rough, don't you think?"
"You're talking to a girl who had to wipe her backside with leaves in the Black Forest at one time, so don't ask me about texture."

"You're so A.D.D. you need to Google search for stuff in our house."

"The true definition of hell is the waiting room at the Sears automotive repair center where there's only a crappy TV and a stack of outdated car magazines."


That's pretty much a recap of my summer so far. As always, I'm living the Looney Tune life. Now go check out all the other brave ladies who are participating in today's Fly posts!


***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? I'm beyond thrilled to be featured this week on Honest Mom. I'm part of the "Speak Out" essay section with my post on "The Truth About Depression." You can read it HERE: 




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