Boggle Mama

Larry, the Contractor with Heart, Builds my Dream Kitchen

My dream kitchen was built during the winter of 2008, which means a whole year before the rug was pulled out from under me. I went into the hospital for five weeks during the winter of 2009.

Larry was my builder. He has done most of my renovations.....my two bathrooms, my screened in back porch and numerous other changes to my house.

He is a terrific person. I feel like he has been in my life forever. You know what I mean, the way you feel about your microwave. How the hell did you ever survive without it?  That's how I feel about Larry. He's just an all-around great guy.

He has a wonderful wife, Maxine and three adorable rugrats. They have come to my pool party a few times. Actually, Larry came to my first Christmas party, eleven years ago. That was just after I had met him. He had helped to install my new windows throughout the house.

I know I'm digressing, as I tend to do a lot. But, I need to tell you this story about Larry.

When I was in my second or third week in the hospital, I was feeling very verklempt. Because of my partial vulvectomy, I had to lay flat. I had a Foley catheter in me the whole time.

Larry and Maxine made a surprise visit. This is not something you expect from your everyday contractor.

I was a little teary because I had not had a real shampoo since before I had been admitted to the hospital.
My hair has always been my crown and glory. I never liked to have it look disheveled, let alone dirty and yucky. But, here I was, with my builder and his wife, feeling as low as I could. And do you know what they did without hesitation and with only a little bit of protest from me?  They washed my hair. Yes, it took a while, but with my head held over the edge of the bed, Maxine shampooed my hair twice and then rinsed it while Larry held a bucket under my head to catch the water. The whole process took a fairly long time. This was not an easy feat.

I was crying with joy ! They had no idea what that shampoo did for my psyche. I was a new patient. I was shiny spanking clean. Alleluhia !!!

I will always remember their kindness to me that evening.

Now, let me show you the before and after pictures of my kitchen.

This is Larry standing in the center of my old kitchen. You can see that it was last renovated probably in the late 70's or early 80's. It had a peninsula with bar stools. It was very boxy. It served it's purpose, but I needed a change.

This is a view from my dining area/family room into the old kitchen.

Here are Tony and Sam in the old kitchen. Aren't they just too cute for words ?

Here are pictures of the renovated kitchen.

This is the island that overlooks my family room. I wanted the second sink and dishwasher in the island so that I could clean up and chat with my company at the same time. I love having it there.

Larry came up with the idea of having a long granite buffet for parties. It really comes in handy on Thanksgiving.

I am extremely happy with my kitchen. I appreciate Larry for listening to what I wanted and for coming up with great innovative ideas himself.

If anyone needs a smart, creative contractor and lives in the South Jersey/Philadelphia area, let me know. You won't be sorry. Just remember, I found him first.

Happy almost Spring !!!

I Love Lucy's Fireplace

When I bought my house in September of 1998, it was a monumental day in more ways than one.

On the day of the settlement I was to meet a new friend who has remained a friend ever since.

Ann, was the Title agent. She is in her nineties now, so back then she was eighty something. She was striking looking and such a lovely woman. She had a twinkle in her eye as if she knew something that I didn't know. And that was so true.

After the settlement was over, Ann walked up to me and started talking.

She told me that her and her then husband built my red brick rancher back in 1957.  That is where they raised their son and daughter. They unfortunately got divorced and sold the house to the people that I bought it from, hence, making me the third owner. Now, tell me that was not a co-inky-dink.

Three months passed and I had a large Christmas party and invited Ann and her son. She was thrilled to be able to see the house years later. They toured it with me and had so many stories about the house. I could tell by the look on their faces that they were really enjoying coming back to the old homestead.

And then she gave me a gift.

She told me the story about how much her family loved the I Love Lucy Show. When they were building this house they decided to contact Desilu Productions in California and see if somehow, Desilu could send a copy of the fireplace blueprints. But, instead, Desilu sent them the original copy of the construction drafts. And that day she turned over the worn manila envelope to me as a Christmas present. She was very proud to hand them over to me and I will cherish them forever. (Unless my daughter, Colleen, from freshvintage can get a s##tload of money for them on ebay, in which case...Oh, well!)

Here are some pictures that I took this morning of them. Click picture to enlarge the photo.

And here is the finished product.

Stay tuned for before and after pictures of my kitchen.

Excuse Me While I Digress

After my divorce, the house we raised our kids in became too big. It had five bedrooms, finished basement, large family room etc., etc. I wanted something more compact. More do-able for a newly single chick with her groove on.  Or at least, I thought I was going to get my groove on.

I have lived in my present house for eleven years now.  It was the first house that the realtor brought me through. I liked it so much that it raised the bar for all the other houses after that. I kept coming back to the red brick rancher. There was almost nothing that I didn't like about it. Since it was built in 1957, I realized that it would need a little tweaking, but that didn't bother me at all. It had character.

At that point, I had only a four year old granddaughter, Angel, and a newborn grandson, Jake. The title of grandmom just hadn't quite sunk in. I was young and vibrant and I could have been a Charlie's Angel. The world was my oyster. I wasn't going to let twenty-eight years of marriage, that was gone in a flash, force me to become one of those ladies. You know the kind. They don't do their roots, they wear moo moo's, they watch soapies all afternoon. They basically give up the juice.  And blue hair was definitely out.

But I digress.

The very first thing that I did was rip down the gaudy drapes that were on every window. Lordy ! They were ugly. And within a few months I had new windows installed throughout the house, new window treatments, and new berber rugs.

Through the years, I've added a side sun porch, a back screened-in porch and an in-ground pool.  And, of course, the addition of thirteen more grandchildren. And now I'm a groovy grandmom.

Here are two pictures of Angel and Jake who are cousins and also my number one and two grandchildren.

This is my happy home.

Here is the back of the house during construction of the pool.

The pool under construction.

Construction on back screened in porch.

Finished product.

Back porch overlooking pool.

Fiona in garden.

Jake in boat in pool.

Garden shed at end of path.

Construction of side sun porch.

Finished sun porch.

I've got some great "before and afters" of my kitchen renovation. Stay tuned.

Irish Pride, the Attic, and the Baseball Bat

I was raised by a wannabee perfectionist. My Mother called it her "Irish Pride".  God love her, she wanted everything to look good, at least, on the surface.

Once, when I was in the fifth grade, I invited my best friend, Sally Frugoli, over to spend the day with me and my sisters. It was a rainy Saturday. My Mom had to go down the avenue for a while. (going down the avenue meant that she was shopping at either Rudolph's bakery or Woolworth's Five and Ten.)

The gloomy day allowed for some scary ghost stories. One of us, I won't take credit, decided that they heard a noise coming from the attic. Like wildfire, we all began to believe that we, too, heard the sound.

Within a ten minute period, after the crescendo reached its highest peak, Sally called her Mom who came over with a baseball bat. Mrs.Frugoli went all through the house, checking all the closets and then proceeded up the attic stairs. Picture a little Italian lady not much over 4'11'' garnishing a bat, almost the size of her.

Needless to say, she didn't find anything.

The kicker is that my Mom walked in just in time to see little Mrs. Frugoli, bat in hand, standing in her living room. My Mom had never met Sally's mother. However, that wouldn't have helped, even if she was best friends with her.

My Mother was struck with apoplexy. A woman had invaded her space. She had searched every room and the insides of all her closets. She had witnessed an untold number of towels not folded in color sequence. Had the toilet been flushed ?  Were all the beds made ?  I can only imagine the angst that oozed out of my Mom's orifices.

All I remember, after that, is being chastised for ever letting an outsider enter the inter sanctum of our domain. I can guarantee you that it never happened again.

                                                                             ~~~~~~~

I found a picture of Sally when she was in my wedding. The others in the picture are my sisters, Peggy and Maryellen.

This is the beautiful Sally on her wedding day.

Unfortunately, Sally died very young. She was only in her thirties. I miss her to this day.

Thanks To My Peeps

Thank you for all your comments. Google analytics shows me that an enormous amount of people have read my coming out post. The graph itself looks like a gigantic penis piercing the skies with tiny little ones standing by in awe. I've never been so impressed.

It took awhile to get the nerve to tell you about the fun I had last year. I don't like bringing people down.

You handled it well.

Stay tuned for a lot more stories, more embarrassing pictures of my children and a few more Famous Fridays.

Turning On A Dime

Just when you think you've done everything right, the Powers that be pull the rug right from under you. I'm sure that I'm not the only one that it's happened to.

Take, for instance, last year.

It all started back in January, 2009.

I was going about my business, as usual. My monstrosity  of a fake tree attacked me, as I was dragging it down the basement.  Sitting on the bottom step, dabbing my wounds, I vowed that I would never put it up again. I promised myself that I would buy a lighter, smaller version of it.

Two weeks later, I began feeling a pain in my groinal area. Or, as I like to call it, my nether region.

I was first given the wrong diagnoses of urinary tract infection. Then it escalated to an inflammation of the pubic symphysis, which was accurate. Then rapidly it advanced to a ginormous abscess, which hurt a lot more than the scratches inflicted by my fake Christmas tree. When I walked with my size elevens a yard apart from each other, I think I got the attention of the doctors.

I was admitted to the hospital on February 16th. 

I've experienced pain before. Remember, I gave birth to five kids in five years, all vaginally. I had an episiotomy  with the first one, which, as I recall, hurt like hell. And, if you've read this post and this one, you will be caught up to date with my hemorrhoidectomy saga. That pain was excruciatingly horrendous.

So, please believe me when I say that nothing could compare with the pain I endured last Winter.

Having said all that, it was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The Powers that be had one more thing in their pocket.

My CAT Scan showed a mass on my colon. The doctors told me that the reason my little infection in the hooha grew so fast and so large, was because my immune system was compromised by the colon cancer.

So, here is where I'll do a Reader's Digest version of the next few weeks and months to follow.

I had a partial vulvectomy, and five, count them five, debridements. My children lovingly began referring to me as Dr. Franken-cooch.

In between the aforementioned operations and the soon-to come big Mama surgery, I spent four days at a very nice rehab facility. You see, I had been flat on my back for so long, that I was very wobbly on my feet and needed to become more agile.

Anyhoo, I went back in to have the tumor removed (along with half of my large intestine), and was discharged on April 5, 2009. Which meant that I had spent approximately five weeks in the hospital.

I had chemo from the beginning of May until just before Halloween. Six months, twelve cycles. For anyone who might have to go through it or knows someone who will, please know that it is do-able. Don't think that it's the end of the world, actually, it's the opposite.

I came out of it a stronger, more hopeful person.

During all of this crapola, my life turned on a dime. Colleen, my number four child, talked me into starting this blog.  You can read about her bully tactics here and on her freshblogtips post here.

That was a turning point for me. I started writing posts on May 25, 2009 and haven't stopped yet. It gave me something to accomplish and to feel good about. God knows I had a lot of material stored up in my cranium.

I'm happy to inform you that, medically speaking, things look great, although I did have to have surgery last Wednesday to repair what they thought was an incisional hernia, but turned out to be muscle tissues that pushed through my thin abdominal walls. It's nice to know that I'm thin somewhere on my body.

That surgery went well and I get the staples out on the fourth of February.

I am, once again, a happy camper.

You might ask why I haven't written about my problems until now. Well, simply put, I like to make people laugh and I really don't think colon cancer stories would have you shooting coffee out your nose.

The future looks bright. I have a lot more to tell, stories from the past and stories that are yet to come.

One Toidy, Two Maryellens, and a Visit

Yesterday, I visited my Mom and sister, Maryellen. The two Maryellens live together in my childhood home. In the late seventies, Maryellen left her husband and moved back home with her two daughters, Lauren and Bridget. And she's been there ever since.

The house seemed very large to me as a youngster. Having been built in 1925, it was a child's dream playground. It has five bedrooms, a back staircase that connects the kitchen with the upstairs hallway, a laundry chute from the upstairs to the basement, and many cubbyholes and closets for long-lasting games of hide and seek.

Speaking of the laundry chute, Maryellen reminded me a few weeks ago that she used to hide in the top part of the laundry chute when we would play hide and seek. I really didn't believe her, that is, until yesterday. I checked out the chute on the way to the toidy. It looks like an antique, now, with loosely fitting black wrought iron hinges. Inside, I saw a ledge that only a tiny little person could stand on and scrunch down and hide with the lid closed. It gave me the heebie jeebies to see the enormous drop to the basement opening. Maryellen has grandchildren now and I'm sure would suffer a myocardial infarction if she ever saw her granddaughters, Brigid or Samantha inside that chute.

There was really only one negative that I can remember about the house. Eight of us had to share the one and only bathroom. Sort of like the Brady Bunch family, only poorer. No wonder I've had so many bowel issues in my lifetime. If you haven't read my hemorrhoidectomy story, you should. It's a doozy !

When we needed to use the privy and either my Dad or PopPop was in there, we had the old trusty bucket in the pantry. Of course, that was only for number one. On the off chance that number two was imminent, well, too bad for you. You just learned to suck it in, so to speak. I eventually became the queen of constipation.

Yesterday, when I was visiting the old homestead, it seemed much smaller. The kitchen shrunk, as did the living room and dining room. I suppose if I lived there all the time, I wouldn't see a difference, but, since I only visit a few times a year, it really was noticeable.

Has this ever happened to you ? Tell me how it was when you went back to your former home.

Here are some pictures taken in and out of my Mom's house.

My baby sister, Peggy, and me in my Mom's living room, circa 1984.

Here is Peggy and her husband, Ray in Mom's kitchen with Maryellen, 1981.

Mom and me in the dining room, 1983.

Maryellen and me in background while cousins have Pollyanna exchange in living room.

Maryellen near front stairway, 1987.

Mom sitting on the stairway landing, around Christmastime, 1987.

Mom and Dad near front porch, circa 1960's.

Mom and Uncle Jack, RIP, on back porch. 2001.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE

Christmas in the Bahamas

In 1980, we decided to break with tradition. The ex and I had been to the Bahamas a number of times. We thought what a great surprise if we take the kids there for Christmas. That idea lead to one of the all time Burke Biggest Debacles.

We didn't tell them about the trip until the last minute. I hadn't realized how much extra work it would be. I had to buy all of their gifts way ahead of time. We erected the tree and decorated it that week. I packed clandestinely, sneaking a few gifts in the suitcases and then hiding the luggage.

When the kids were finally told, they were so excited. Except for Erin and Colleen who worried about Santa finding us in the Bahamas.

On the morning of our flight, Pete and the kids went out to the car. The kids thought I was right behind them, but, as planned, I remained in the house. I had my strategy all worked out. I went up into the attic and out in the garage. That's where all of the gifts were hiding. I carefully put them under the tree, so that when we got home after Christmas they'd receive yet another surprise. All this was done in ten minutes. I was magnificent !! Thank God, my time-management skills are A number one.

The week of Christmas, 1980, went down in the books as the coldest in history for the Mid Atlantic states. Unfortunately, this record also included the entire East Coast, Florida and all of the Caribbean Islands. When we arrived in the Bahamas, it was a balmy forty-eight degrees. It never got out of the fifties the whole time we were there.

That was the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. 

Pete and I put on a jolly face that first day as we went in search of our Christmas tree. While strolling on the beach, we found the cutest little Charlie Brown tree and brought it back to our hotel room.

Christmas morning, they each found one gift under the foot-high tree. Then we were entertained at poolside. I seem to remember a Bahamian band, limbo dancing, and cold appendages. It went down-hill after that.

Here is what happened:

• Megan developed a 104 degree fever. Even though I was an RN, it scared me to death.
  We took her to the nearest Emergency Room. She had to sit in a cool tub back at the hotel.
  
• We never once used our bathing suits.
• On the flight home, Megan vomited.
  
• Just as we approached the Philadelphia area, there was a plane crash and we had to divert to Baltimore.
• We had to rent a car and drive the two hours from Baltimore to New Jersey at midnight.
• Pete had to drive to Philly airport the next day and exchange the rental for our own car.

We learned that there is no place like home for the holidays. Never again, did we venture far on Christmas Day.

Here are some pictures of our Christmas in the Bahamas. Click picture to enlarge it.

Megan, Colleen and Erin arriving at the hotel.

Me, Colleen and Erin on the balcony.

Pete and Erin on the balcony.

Megan, Heather, Colleen, Erin and Peter on the beach.

Erin watching Colleen open her present. See the Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the background?

Megan opening up her gift. Twenty-four hours later, she was in the Emergency Room.

Erin and Megan standing in front of the Bahamian band. It looks like the band started partying early.

Colleen doing the Limbo with the band.

Megan also doing the Limbo.

Merry Christmas to all my friends, family and readers. Love, Eileen

Balled Trees, Cookies and New Traditions

Things change. It's inevitable that the traditions that you had as a child, are not the traditions you have now.

As a child, we did not even put up a tree until Christmas Eve. We put out milk and cookies for Santa and we were allowed to put one ornament on the tree before we went to bed. I remember my sisters and I trying to stay awake so that we could hear Santa and the reindeer on the roof. And in the morning, my Mom and Dad would go downstairs ahead of us to start the electric trains and, I feel sure, to have some milk and cookies.

But, my husband and I did things a little differently when we had our family. The tree went up a few days before Christmas. When the kids were old enough, they were allowed to help decorate it. As they got older, they had a pollyanna which they exchanged on Christmas Eve.Their other presents were opened in the early hours of Christmas Day. And then we all went to Mass. Back then, we stayed in all day long. There was no visiting relatives, or friends. It was family time. I liked it that way. Very peaceful.

When we moved from Philadelphia to South Jersey, my husband decided he wanted a balled tree, so that he could replant it after the holidays.  He would take the  kids with him to the tree farm and come home with their selection. Some of them survived, however, most of them didn't live to see the next Christmas. Seeing the station wagon pull up to the house with the tree safely tied to the roof, I can remember wanting to cry out to that unsuspecting evergreen, "Run, run like the wind, get out, while you can."

This is a chopped tree, not a balled one. That tradition started the following year.

My children are all grown with kiddies of their own. Creating new Christmas traditions belong to them now. I am happy that they have begun new ones. Our quiet peaceful Christmas Day, staying at home, has been exchanged for a loud, rowdy, Christmas dinner at one of my kids' homes. They take turns every year. Guess what ? I love it. Having all five of my children and their spouses and my fifteen grandchildren all in one place on such a Miraculous day, is a miracle unto itself. Somehow, as loud as it gets, it's still very peaceful.

Of course, the wine certainly doesn't hurt any.

What are some of your Christmas traditions? Please share with us. Who knows, maybe you can inspire someone else to start a new one.

Here are a few pictures of our Christmases past and present.

This is Heather and Peter in our old house in Philadelphia. (Just click on pictures to make them larger)

Here is Peter, Heather, Megan, and Colleen. Erin was a bun in the oven, soon to be born in February.

Christmas Eve Pollyanna exchange.

The girl cousins visiting Grandmom,1987. Look at the big hair !! Yowza !!
From left to right: Heather, Megan, Lauren, Erin, Patty Beth, Colleen, Bridget, and Megan H.

Here is Erin at my Mother's house.

Last but not least, are the kids with me and my first born grandchild, Angel.

Canned Corn, Mashed Potatoes and Mayhem

Can you believe that Thanksgiving is over?

My Christmas tree is already up. For Thanksgiving, I decorated it with links of autumn colors made with construction paper. So, it blended well with my other fallish colors for my family feast.

Thanksgiving dinner, as usual, was at my home. I made the bird, the sausage stuffing, canned corn, and canned jellied cranberry sauce. Oh, yeah, canned turkey gravy, too.
Although I'm a good cook, or, so I've been told, I am equally good at opening cans.

Thank God for all my children ! They brought the side fixins'. Colleen made the mashed potatoes this year.

There was a rumor that Megan's husband, Guy, didn't like the potatoes last year. Doug, Erin's husband had made them. So, as hostess, I had to ask Erin not to make them this year. I was very diplomatic. I told Doug that Guy hated his mashed potatoes and that Guy suggested that someone else should make them this year. Actually, I was more subtle than that.

Doug and Erin's offering was a delicious salad made with craisins, walnuts and feta cheese with a balsamic vinegar dressing. It was so good that I had it the next day for lunch.
Doug's Mom and Dad always join us for Thanksgiving dinner. Jane brought sweet potato casserole and butternut squash. And, of course, Corky, who is in the wine business, brought a variety of reds and whites.

My ex hubby joined us this year. In the past, I've invited him but he could never come. This year he took me up on my offer and didn't come empty-handed. Besides a case of Yuengling and a case of Corona lite, he brought three pounds of cooked shrimp that he made with beer and his secret ingredients. He also made the very spicily yummy cocktail sauce.

Peter and Shannon brought the dinner rolls and Shannon's specialty, Green Bean Casserole. You cannot have Thanksgiving without Green Bean Casserole. Mmm Mmm good !!!

I totally forgot that Colleen made a signature drink for the festivities. I'm not sure what she called it, but it was pink and alcoholic and yummy. Colleen is well known for discovering wonderful concoctions. One of her all-time award winning signature drinks can be found here on her Freshvintage blog. Make sure you check it out. Talk about a drink made in heaven !!! And here is another equally super recipe for your imbibing pleasure. I don't know where she inherited her inventiveness to put together a superlative alcoholic beverage. I"m just a milk and cookies kind of gal myself.  Wait, one sec while I get my tongue out of my cheek.

Heather and her family ate at her in law's house. And Megan and Guy ate at his mom and dad's house. But Megan and Guy and the four boys came over for dessert.

All in all, twelve out of my fifteen grandkids were here. There was a lot of swashbuckling going on. The liquor helped to drown out the incessant screaming and running and general mayhem. 

I've already decorated my Christmas tree. I'm ready for the rest of the holidays. Bring it on !!