One lone Christmas Tree, hiding behind one bottle of homemade Cabernet Franc, illuminated by one candle.  One grin on my face. 🙂


One click on the icon below and you’re off to the WordPress Challenge for this week . Thanks to  Michelle at WordPress for the chance to indulge and share. Sorry, MW.  No fuzzy faces.

word press 2013



One is the loneliest number. I feel a song coming on.  Not that I ever understood that little ditty by Three Dog Night  But I disagree.  I think “one” can be a good thing.  Not necessarily lonely.  It’s all in your perspective.

And here’s my perspective on ONE…from a photographic point of view.

one angel

See.  One can be refreshing.  Soothing. Peaceful.  Pleasant. Kinda nice.

One of a kind Z

ONE tells us we are unique individuals.  That’s kinda cool.

cork in a bottle

Sometimes you bite the bear and sometimes the bear bites you.

One cork.

Kinda brilliant on my part!

P.S.  I drank the vino anyway. 😉

Join Cee and others here.



Talk about a bit of a “fresh” stretch…

I was made in Italy.  My mom and dad, both born there, brought me over to a U.S. hospital  in one of the more unconventional ways.  They arrived on Ellis Island in July and I was born in Newark, N.J. a few months later.  As you might imagine, they spoke little to no English and I spent my formative years listening to and then speaking in Italian.  This may seem like it has nothing to do with this week’s challenge, so a short explanation is due.

Because of the language and custom differences, I learned some things a bit differently than most American kids.  I (and not due to bad parenting) was allowed to sip vino rosso at the age of four.  I’m not saying I pitched a load, but I got a sip here and there.  This probably attributed to my love of ova, both bianco and rosso.  I, to this day say “gravy” instead of sauce.  I have gravy on my pasta and pizza.  Yum!

Here’s where the challenge comes in.  If I ever had the audacity to disrespect my dad or mom, either in words or actions, I was told not to be cativa.  Later, mom learned another word for cativa.  Fresh!  “Don’t be fresh!”  “That’s fresh!”  “I don’t like when you are fresh!”  That one word has stayed with me for 60 plus years, and today I am still using “fresh” to mean cativa (or cativo if I’m referring to a male.) Enter, my grandson.

The adorable, but feisty three year old came up  from Georgia this month with mom and dad, along with his 10 year old brother and 7 year old sister.  Well, feisty got the best of him and he thought he could haul off and slug nona.  Not gonna happen!  So after a few “don’t be fresh”es, and “that was fresh”, someone landed in a fresh load of time out!



When it was all over, we talked a little.  Mom and dad covered a few rules that should NOT be broken, and the consequences that come with disrespect.   I hinted that I’d put him in Rocky’s cage the next time he was fresh.  Apparently, he thought that was a reward and not a consequence.

Not so FRESH!  Just cute.

Not so FRESH! Just cute.

He put himself in the cage and gave me a great big smile.  I think he misunderstood “fresh” and “consequences”.  I’ll have to try again.  Maybe in another language.

Fresh means many things to many people.  Click on the WordPress icon below for more on “Fresh”.



Ailsa, at wheresmybackpack, has offered us up another challenging Challenge.  The theme this week is RED so I will bombard you with a load of variations on the theme.  If you’re not seeing red after this, I don’t know what to tell ya…

First, and, of course, we start off with a kind of reddish flower that I spotted at a roadside market. I say ‘of course’ because the word ‘red’ evokes images of flowers to me, and I’ll bet many of you.   I didn’t get the name, sorry.  Hibiscus , I’m thinking.

Next, a view of our deck, our reddish adirondack chairs, and red, red wine. (I know the wine’s more purple than red but, give me a break!)

Continuing… Red lights blazing on the diner where we had dinner a few nights ago.

And can you stand it?!  Lowes and snowblowers.  A fellow blogger, at TheRetiringSort, posted some beautiful autumn “red” photos.  (check her out)  Now, I’m fine with autumn sneaking up on me, but SNOWBLOWERS?!?!?   In September?!?!?  Come on!!!!

And my post wouldn’t be complete without a picture of my favorite Phillies Phan. Love you, sweetie!!

Can you say, Harley Davidson???  Whoa!

I don’t know if my son is going to disown me, but this is him winning in Vegas.

OK, and with that, the “RED” stops here…

But don’t YOU stop here.  Continue on this journey into the world of “red’ by visiting wheresmybackpack.    Click on the red rose to get there. I couldn’t resist. :-).


When Ailsa at wheresyourbackpack posted this challenge, I immediately thought Marilyn Monroe, spray painted gold, singing Happy Birthday to President Kennedy.  OK.  Maybe that was a dress.  I’m still not sure after all these years.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I love Ms. Monroe, maybe not as much as Jeff does, but I enjoy the heck out of her movies.  But I thought I’d go a different route.

So here are just a few curvatures of my own.  Don’t get too excited.  It’s not what you think.

Curvacious snake at the Cape May Zoo, in none other than Cape May, NJ

Twists and turns and swirls and curves hanging from the ceiling at the Borgata Casino – AC, NJ

Delicate curves of the flamingos necks, also at the Cape May Zoo

Subtle curves of a wine rack we came across – Jeff makes the stuff, remember…

Our grandson, taking the curves in our living room – that’s his version of a peace sign as he shouts “Peace Out!” (If you know anything about me, you know kids or grand kids are going to be involved, if at all possible. And I’ll stretch the limits on the challenge if I have to :-). )

OK.  Send the kiddies out of the room because I just couldn’t let it go.

Thanks to Google Images for this photo of Ms. Monroe

For more curves, visit Ailsa at wheresmybackpack.  Thanks, Ailsa.

If you dropped by, commented, liked, or just browsed around, thank you for the visit.  You are always welcome to stop back any time. 🙂


I’d like to take you inside one of the rooms in our house at the shore.  I call it the Blue Room, I guess because the pull-out couch is blue and because I don’t like calling it the spare room.  Spare room sounds like a “I don’t use this, so why don’t you take it.”  kind of room. 

Blue room sounds more like you’re staying at the White House.  No matter what your political views, that would have to be such a cool place to have a sleep over!  Anyway, as much as I’d love to have you stay, and as important as you are to me 🙂 I’m afraid you’d have to live out of your suitcase for the duration of your stay. (Ask our son and his wife.)

You’ll notice that there’s a closet to the left of the pretty blue night light, and there’s another to the right of it, which didn’t make the shot.  But these are not really functional, in the sense that closets are used for clothing and shoes, and maybe some extra pillows thrown up on a shelf.

No.  Inside, take note, are the makings for some of my husband’s delicious

home made vino.

Currently, you’ll find Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec, Pino Grigio, Zinfadel, and Cabernet Franc all “cookin'” in there.  (Not that it cooks, but then it’s Jeff’s hobby, not mine.  I am vino making-challenged – but luckily, not vino-drinking-challenged,).

Each carboy, (that’s what the juice is in) produces about 28 bottles.  It takes approximately a year, or more in some cases, of mostly waiting while the fermenting takes place.  There’s racking and reracking, and a few extras involved, but the results yields some pretty decent, glass-clicking, butt-kicking wine.

So this is what’s inside our Blue Room, inside our closets.  And when all is said and done, this is what you get to put inside your tummy.

For more interesting takes on “Inside”, click here.

I got the inside scoop to some of these posts, so try them out for size:







I’m going to pour myself a glass…