Today is Ella's birthday...

Ella Fitzgerald died in 1996 ... and her voice is still remembered as one of the best in the business

Just a tune I found...never heard before

And a song that haunts me.

Not your ordinary hangover...

...by a long shot.

Perhaps it's just been intestinal flu for the past WEEK

Last Friday I felt energetic enough to make a nice shrimp and macaroni salad for the pool league party; proud as punch that I wouldn't have to rise at dawn Saturday morning to get things done and delivered by noon. After Himself got home from work we went out for our usual round of socializing, and were home early, albeit with snoots full, there was no reason to suspect anything would spoil the weekend.

Saturday started at 8 a.m., and I blamed my light headiness on the lingering effects of drink from the night before, but we were dressed and gone and arrived at the old local with plenty of time to spare. I was relegated to taking names and monies for the tournament that culminated our league season. My least enjoyable task, as secretary of the league the members mistakenly think I know their names and/or faces...and it's simply not true. Most of them are as forgettable as cold porridge, but I DID do better this year than last.

I felt worse and worse as the day progressed, but had no interest in ingesting food, which there was, in abundance. Usually if I'm suffering a hangover I can and do eat everything I can get my maw around. By the time we left just before dark I knew I was coming down with something...I hadn't even felt like drinking all day long...a definite sign of peculiarities within. We brought home a huge platter of food I'd ignored, and it all wound up getting thrown away after sitting untouched for two days

So, the upshot of it all has been a week of chills, fever, fitful sleep, inability to eat, diarrhoea, and general malaise. Neither cold nor flu meds, nor juices, teas, weak broth nor gingerale have had any soothing effect...Maalox helped a little, but I'm still queasy about food. I'm beginning to think it might be the start of an ulcer, or jaysus, stomach cancer, who knows. Nothing is bleeding though, and I AM on the mend, so perhaps it's just some internal bug waltzing me around. Still don't have much of an appetite, but have enjoyed a couple beers, and finally felt like having a smoke and watching a bit of tv.

The Gang of Five have been almost spooky during all this...they snuggled around me in a solicitous, comforting manner, scrutinizing me with somber eyes as I dozed on the couch or the bed. Gotta love cats. Even Himself's big boy Salty has curled up as the foot of my bed for the duration.

I may even dress and venture out for some grocery shopping. I think yogurt or cottage cheese might taste good. The weather isn't terrible...finally!

We watched No Country for Old Men the other night. How many ways are there for a drug deal to go BAD....I will probably have to read McCarthy's book. His prose is just lyrical to me. I adore Tommy Lee Jones, and Woody Harrelson; Javier Bardem was new to me...but man is he ever a STUNNING performer...no pun intended.

Bitchen’ From the Kitchen…

Here’s the deal…I’ve saved and saved for a trip abroad since 2003, upon my last return from Ireland. The money hasn’t mounted up with any regularly or volume because I’m living on Social Security and only picking up occasional pin money doing a bit of data entry a few times a year. I’ve kept alerts coming into my inbox reflecting economical fares since then.

What I want to do is visit my friends in England for a few days, and move on to explore just a bit of Wales and maybe Scotland before taking the ferry to Ireland for one last look at the Emerald Isle before I shrug off the mortal coil. Not a lot to ask, especially since I’m the cheapest skate to ever come out of Idaho…travel on a shoestring is a huge overstatement. My travel thread is far more slender than that.

In the past when I’ve gone to Ireland, I’ve ALWAYS lost weight, because I don’t spend much money on food, and I walk far more there, than I would even consider here at home. I only eat when I’m really hungry, probably drink more tea than Guinness, and I don’t buy ANYTHING I can well do without. I stay in the cheapest decent accommodation possible, and limit my spending to a certain amount every day, to insure my survival, and take advantage of every free feature I find along the way. Granted there’s very little in Ireland that’s free…other than window shopping and wandering the streets, churches and graveyards. The day tours are cheap, and I have done the Burren and Connemara tours, which were both delightful and worth every penny.

Since I won’t drive in Ireland I always buy a bus/rail pass that offers unlimited travel. That’s how I was able to visit North Ireland…and spend a day in Achill Island when I spent a week in Newport. I just climbed on the bus and let the driver be my tour guide all the way to the end of the line in Dooagh, and then catch the last bus back. It’s a gorgeous drive by the way, and my chatty driver charmed me with tales of local attractions, flora, fauna, and even some personal gossipy personal vignettes. It was great and didn’t cost more than the tea, two pints and a few postcards I bought there.

So…I AM a miserly traveler, indeed I’ve been able to survive in relative comfort on very little money, until the Euro and the Celtic Tiger joined forces, the U.S. dollar fell gasping by the wayside, and fuel costs exploded over the moon.

I DID find a cheap flight I could afford, and there are still (as of this writing), seats left on the numerous special batches of United Airlines flights in May, which is a glorious time of year to travel. Here’s the rub…I can afford the flight BUT not the accommodation/living costs May is the beginning of the high season across the pond, and prices rise accordingly, across the board. I would have to go in debt using my credit card, something I dare not do.

Additional bitches are the breaking news about United flights facing some cancellations because their Boeing 777’s need inspecting….the aforementioned flights would be on this plane, going and coming and wouldn’t you know it…Heathrow Airport is in some kind of upheaval over baggage handlers, AND if that wasn’t enough….Galway’s water supply is tainted AGAIN, according to today’s news. Cryptosporidium I think is the culprit, and once again a good portion of the county is being told to boil water, and the hoteliers and service people are already complaining about how it will affect their revenues.

I would love to book a flight and see if my skills at successful travel on no money are as sharp as they used to be…but too many negatives are popping up like crocuses through the snow. Not the least of which is Himself’s jealous attitude about my solitary holidays. He’s like a child pouting about never being allowed to have any fun. GAWD…he knows we could use the time apart, but never thinks beyond I, me, and mine. Of course I’m just about the same, so far as being selfish, but he’s been aware of my fixation on Ireland for more than a decade.

Traveling on the cheap doesn’t bother me as much as the idea that I’d run out of money totally and be reduced to spending my last days in country in the airport waiting lounge. I don’t have that many friends in Ireland I could rely on to bail me out of financial trouble; at least no friends I could presume upon so heavily.

So….perhaps I’ll try to make lemonade…

There are a lot of places I’d like to visit that don’t require a passport, long security lines, or taking my shoes off before I’m allowed to board and be seated in a cramped space next to someone who farts or screams for eight hours while I’m dying for a smoke.

Montana for instance. It’s my home state, and it’s thirty miles from my house to the border. Whenever we drive over that way I feel rejuvenated coming off the winding road from Lookout Pass. There’s one last long curve before you drive out of the tree covered mountains and the big sky opens up before your eyes. It never fails to make me catch my breath when at last I can see the Montana Rockies in their entire majestic frosty splendor. I wouldn’t want to live in Montana anymore, but I always know I’m home when I go there, so I know you can’t take Montana out of the girl. It’s high, wide and as handsome a land as ever I’ve known. The biggest drawback from a holiday in the Treasure State is the price of gas. You cannot cross the state on one tank of gas. To spend a week or two and see anything would probably equal or surpass the flight money to London, but at least I wouldn’t be stranded in a far off country. I even have a relative or two still alive, and a friend or two who would spot me a loan to get home.

I’d love to see Oregon again. It’s almost as close as Montana if you take the right roads. It’s been decades since I’ve seen anything of the Oregon I knew as a child. The best thing about the state is the stewardship of the natives. They stopped inviting newcomers long ago, actually made a point to telling visitors, “Thanks for visiting, have a safe trip home.” The polite way to say, ‘here’s your hat, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out”. Portland is a sprawling cosmopolitan city on the Columbia River, but there’s a home town feel that is quite comforting. The drive to the coast is as scenic as anything Ireland has to offer.

Idaho as a destination really can’t be beat, even after all the years we’ve lived here. When the weather permits the whole state just preens to have her picture taken from any vantage point. Deep canyons, craggy mountains, arid volcanic deserts, and miles and miles of agricultural beauty, are sparsely populated but eager to entertain the visitor. Scoff the fools who don’t appreciate this lovely place. I don’t enjoy the winters, but all credit to those who do; it’s not the state’s fault that I’m terrified of snow in its deceptive innocence. Well, yeah, technically it is, but that’s another story.

So…sometime when the weather is stable enough to be trusted perhaps I’ll take a road trip, and spend a little money on my own turf, forget Europe for awhile. As bad as I’d love to jet over, it’s just not in the cards I’m afraid. I’ll tuck that dream away for another year. Who knows…I might still win the lottery.