I'm a dreamer (morning, noon and night) and I remember many of my in sleep dreams.  Most, if not all, are not good. For example, last month I propelled myself out of bed to escape a particularly gruesome situation and landed on my head.  I will never forget that dream no matter what my brain damage may have been. Many of my dreams are recurrent like not being prepared and being called on in Law School or failing a big test.  Usually I'm happy to wake up and reassure myself that all's well that ends well.

How do you put 70 people of diverse backgrounds and interests in a room at the Friar's Club for an hour and a half lunch and keep it in the family? Well, that's exactly what Nancy Schess (and all those who attended) did yesterday at a triple meeting of the New York Women's Group, The Bandit Group and the New York Health and Aging Resources Group.

Time for a trip down memory lane. A story from Parade magazine: Christmas in Boston, 1963

There has been a lot of talk in my house recently about sleep habits. Most people I talk to complain about not getting enough sleep. Here is the debate though. Television or no television?

  It’s the news story that is being covered all over the news, on the web, television, and in print. It seems that winter has not yet arrived in the northeast. States all over the northeast are setting records for high temperatures, with the weather in mid-December feeling more like September. Buffalo, New York, where my daughter goes to school, is still waiting to see its first snow of the season. This is the latest Buffalo has gone without seeing any snow since 1899.  

I have never seen this before. Toilet seat handles. Now why didn't I think of that.

Yesterday was a day not like any other. It was my birthday (57 years thank you:) but it wasn't just another birthday. Sure the milestones like 30, 40, and 50 are memorable (especially my 50th because it was a surprise party) but birthdays seem to roll by.  

When we were young we worshipped the sun and could never get enough "Rays".  "Catching Rays" with a reflector while coated with iodine laced baby oil was de rigueur.  The above picture is representative of my "Chocolate Man" period.  However, as the years passed (and the ozone layer burned away) baby oil morphed into sun screen as the sun began to sizzle my skin and now I am beginning to have empathy for and commiserate with the people. of the night No wonder my Halloween costume has become Count Dracula.