I’m in low gear today and haven’t come up with a blog topic that suits me. Railing about the three voicemails I got from credit relief companies isn’t in line with being on vacation. Neither is complaining about the weather back home, which we’ll meet up close and personal in 48 hours. (It’s predicted to be around 37 degrees.)

So I’m reposting the very first blog I wrote, called “Gauging Voices,” on May 20, 2024.

Voices are like barometers. They indicate if everything is normal, if pressure is mounting, or if decline has settled in.

That’s how it is when you are the mother. You are always taking a temperature, checking a pulse, looking for signs of stress in your offspring — even when those offspring are in their thirties, as mine are. And because my sons live far away, I listen closely on the telephone for signs. It’s the only measure I have to go by. I know Keith will call on the weekend and bring me up to date. But I hope in the meantime, the storm passes and when we talk his voice is filled with warmth and sunshine.”

If there has been some cataclysmic event in the world this past week and a half, I am oblivious. Except for the Academy Awards, which I wouldn’t categorize as cataclysmic, I’m not on the cutting edge of current affairs. It feels liberating.

Here’s what I have learned, mostly by unintended osmosis.

Princess Katherine of Wales is under attack for not appearing in public, for supposedly doctoring a photo, and for being hush-hush about her surgical condition. King Charles is being lauded for his openness regarding his cancer diagnosis. But nobody seems to know what kind of cancer it is. How is that openness?

There were several state primaries held recently; but since the presumed nominees of both parties already have enough delegates to be chosen, what does it matter? In fact, why bother having the national conventions? Think of the money that would be saved, although I imagine the two host cities – Milwaukee and Chicago – would object because of the influx of tourist dollars.

The Supreme Court refused to take up some so-called important legal issue. Trump hasn’t been able to make bond. Russia held an election. There is an eclipse in early April. March Madness is upon us.

And Earl is eagerly awaiting the Notre Dame Women’s first game in the NCAA tournament this Saturday. In our world at the moment, this is the paramount event. Go Hannah!

At lunch yesterday, S commented on how boring the shopping, dining, and entertaining options are where we all live in southwestern Michigan. S and her husband, along with M, are snowbirds who live in the same condo complex up north as Earl and I when it gets too unbearably hot in Naples.

I hadn’t thought about it until that conversation, but S is right. Naples is filled with tons of restaurants, shopping venues, supermarkets, and entertainment from bingo to live music to you name it. The St. Joseph/Benton Harbor, MI area is home to Elks, FOP, and dive bar hangouts. Craft breweries too.

I checked the resident populations of each community to see if Naples qualified as a major city. It’s fulltime population hovers at around 19 thousand, while the St. Joe/BH population is around 17 thousand. Not that far off.

But there are extenuating circumstances. Naples, a tourist destination of long standing, is second home to some of the rich and famous. Seven billionaires live here. St. Joe/BH is working on being a tourist destination and second home to Chicago millionaires. There’s probably not a billionaire within miles.

Naples offers amazing supermarkets: Publix, Fresh Market, Seed to Table, Walmart. St. Joe/BH has Martin’s, Meijer, and Roger’s. I will say Roger’s has Boar’s Head deli meats, but that’s about as fancy as it gets.

The fast food chains – Arby’s, Burger King, KFC, McDonald’s, Wendy’s – are considered acceptable food options up north; not here. Instead, there are seafood, Italian and German restaurants to consider. St. Joe/BH has a good Italian restaurant, but enjoying the others requires a trip to Chicago.

Still, From Mother’s Day to Halloween, St. Joe/BH has advantages. The weather is replete with rain, sun, warmth, clouds. Nothing too extreme for an extended period of time. Bugs are not that unbearable. Sunsets are magnificent. Fruit and vegetable stands offer produce that was picked this morning for you to eat tonight. It might not be Naples, but it’s not that bad.

“To blog or not to blog, that is the question.”

Actually Hamlet didn’t express it exactly that way. Rather, he was questioning whether it’s better to live or die. But it’s a fair rendition of his soliloquy in many situations. Do I or do I not?

In my case, it’s whether to return to blogging after a fourteen-year run followed by a four year absence. At the beginning of the pandemic, I felt I’d pretty much said what I had to say about presidential elections, contemporary culture, and personal pet peeves.

But I’ve written a novel and would like to get it published without using my own funds. I’ve self-published twice already. While it was emotionally satisfying, it wasn’t rewarding in terms of a wide audience (although both books are available on Amazon) or a flush bank account.

I plan to query literary agents and anticipate a lot of rejection over the next few months. It’s part of the process because only about one percent of manuscripts submitted to the myriad of representatives gets picked up. That means 99 percent don’t. Quite possibly winning the lottery is easier.

My unpublished novel and my return to blogging are related. I have time to write regularly, and blogging helps keep my skills sharp. It’s also a way to build a readership for the novel, even though at this point I’m not willing to share much about it. If you like my work, please share it. If you don’t, share it anyway in the hope that someone you know will like it.

And that’s my 30 second commercial.

I always take a good book with me on vacation. This time it was Rebecca, the suspenseful tale by Daphne du Maurier published in 1938, that I finished this afternoon instead of visiting the pool.

Lonna, my son’s partner, and I had grown tired of contemporary literature and decided to read a classic together. The kind where the action is chronological, there is one point of view, and the villain is revealed in the end. Most likely punished too.

I admit the book was wordy by today’s standards, but the way the author built on the sense of foreboding the heroine felt until the reveal at the end is as contemporary as it gets. Much of the story is told through dialogue. I clung to every word. And while there is no lack of descriptive passages. I tended to skip them.

I belong to a book club where we rate the books from one to five, five being the tops. I rarely give a five, but I would say Rebecca comes close.

P.S. For the record, since this book club has been in existence, I’ve given a five to only two books:  A Gentleman in Moscow and Anne of Green Gables. Two ends of the literary bell curve.

I thought I’d seen everything in terms of a supermarket. Small Ma and Pa grocery stores that – to be honest — are disappearing. Well known chains depending on where you live: Jewel-Osco, Kroger, Publix, Winn-Dixie. Walmart, the largest grocery store in America. And those competing discount behemoths, Costco and Sam’s Club, where bulk purchases are the norm.

But I’d never seen anything like Seed to Table, a couple miles from where we’re staying. The current trend is called “farm to table,” but this operation goes even further. It isn’t just a supermarket; it’s an art museum.

The entrance puts you in the fresh produce section, which is enormous. All kinds of fruits and vegetable are artistically arranged, not just tossed in a bin. The apples form a pyramid. The corn lines up in rows with all cobs facing the same way. Bags of carrots are stacked in rows vertically and act as dividers in the vegetable section.

The bakery, next to the produce, has something for everyone. Seriously. If you want a carrot cake, for instance, there are three different sizes, just like Goldilocks’ three bears. The big one is company sized; the middle one for a family; and the little one for someone who lives alone. Edible art for everyone.

Then there is the block long cheese aisle, the block long meat aisle, and the block long fish/seafood aisle. And a wonderful array of prepared foods for those averse to cooking. It’s also a block long.

Next came the coffee bar, the wine bar, the pasta bar, and the guacamole bar, each ready to prepare the respective specialty at a moment’s notice. And did I mention the live entertainment seven nights a week?

There was also a place where parents dropped off their children to play instead of riding in the grocery cart and begging. Finally, near the checkouts I found — believe it or not — pumpkin pie. Who has pumpkin pie in March?

Because we’d gone to the House of Omelets for breakfast first, we bought only half a pumpkin pie and a small package of brie cheese. Had we come hungry our bill would have been much, much more.

Which suggests we need a return visit when we’re hungry, because there were also plenty of free food samples to enjoy.