Monthly Archives: August 2013

Feeling so groovy…


What a good life I have…this is my breathtaking-so-Southern- view when I go for my daily walk around 7:30 am every day…well…except Sundays.

Today was laundry, languages, and then I decided to learn how to make a movie with pictures in my files.  The movie so far is only around 17 seconds…with music added, yes, music…I remember my precious daughter made a movie with some pictures and then she spend a few good hours adding music to it, to have it ready for me before I went back home, then North Carolina.   The movie was about our visit to  Paris a few years ago, so I decided that we somehow share our DNA, so if she can do this kind of things, so can I.  The roles have somehow reversed on some things.  Now I look up to her.  If she can do it…so can I.  Cool!

After a while, I put the whole project in the circular file until I feel aggressive enough to tackle the beast again.  It has not hit the recycle bin, as of right now.

Other than that nothing much to report, except that I already prep my cantaloupe, lettuce, apple, etc for my ever healthy lunch.

Some of you probably are thinking…really, are you thinking?  Just a joke!

Have a happy day!

Your Happy Contessa

“Finding what degree of happiness is enough for oneself is an exhilarating experience.”  La Contessa

Mind says “35”…Body says “Medicare Babe”


Talking with one of my best friends recently,  we were conversing, again, about becoming Medicare babes. For those of you that are not inhabitants of the United States, the Medicare word is associated with having reached the tender, lovely and mature age of 65.  There is plenty to talk about, analyze, etc.  You get the drift.

I was telling her about my new beautiful pink shoes. Loved these shoes, but after I purchased them and brought them home, I tried to walk with them on, to have a better feel and to get used to this new daring and darling pair of high heel pumps. After a few steps,  I started to question my mindset when I purchased these beautiful shoes. Loved them…but I pictured that around  the end of the evening, someone will have to pick me up me with a spatula from the dancing floor.

Yes, I do dance and did the wobble at my daughter’s wedding. I am worthy of dancing with the smallest shinning speck in the sky.  But, after my first attempt at being a celebrity in the Randy to the Rescue, Washington, D.C. episode, I really don’t want to deal with paparazzi. Go figure.

As a Medicare-Babe-to-be, my mind thinks mid-thirties, my body acts anyway it feels like, but not necessarily in agreement with my mind.

Getting in the vintage stage of our lives can be fun, interesting and a royal pain on my feet. Loved those pink pumps, but…they went back to the store to torture another pair of feet. I must clarify that they were half a size too big, otherwise they would be torturing mine, with controlled pleasure.

With that very profound pondering, I must leave now.

Your Happy Contessa

“It is not how old you are, but how young you think.” …yeah, right…tell it to the Marines.