What is it about the seventy-plus generation and packing for a trip? How many suitcases full of bathing suits and light summer wear does one need for a month.

Kegs Keg-like bellies
Dress-commando Dress-Spanx (please)
Pick up lines Pick ones teeth or nose

Not a whole lot has changed since I was in college—other than my waistline—but that’s another story.

At the end of last summer, my two sons “flew the coop” and took up residence in dorms. Strangely enough, though I thought their departure would decrease the general upheaval in the house, quite the opposite occurred.

I like dogs, all kinds of dogs, except “biters” and those with saliva on their molars. The “biter” phenomenon is very evident in small yappers.

My trainer is waiting for me; the sweat begins to accumulate under my arms. I have a tank top on, so in this case, it runs down my side. I am not sure what I have signed up for, but I know that a 50+ year old women in pants that fit like a sausage casing generate looks, and I don’t mean good looks.

The “Big One” hit Seattle during the winter of 1991, we were unprepared, and unfortunately the weathermen had not predicted the storm. Three trees crashed onto our house leaving a gaping hole, actually not a bad thing as we needed a new roof. Though I must say, living in an unheated home had its disadvantages. Because of this event, Craig was determined that we would never be without power again. Picture the refrain from, “Gone with the Wind”, when Scarlett O’Hara says; “I will never be hungry again”, it was something like that, only I don’t even sort of look like Scarlett…

Each summer, I endure parental purgatory and attend my children’s swim meets at the Gregory Seahurst swim pool in Burien. Swim meets tend to be long (3-4 hours) and SLOW. Let me just say they are on par with, “watching paint dry.

While conducting “research” in B-Town, I discovered a brand new boutique: “Howard and Marge,” owned by Robin Dunkle and named after her much-loved grandparents.

“Underwood Undercover” here, entering the information superhighway via my coffee hole on ramp. I look around to see what usual suspects are in attendance today . . . at Starbucks in Normandy Park.

You might remember me talking about idiot gym attendees who “lose” their lockers. Unfortunately, this happened to me, even now as I write about this, I am amazed about the loss of my belongings as my mind has been razor sharp as of late. When I discovered that my locker lost itself, I entered my secret code into most of the lockers with the desperate hope that one of the lockers would open. I realized later that I likely messed up everyone else’s secret code as I vainly tried punching my number into each locker. I skipped the lockers with obvious markers such as, a bra strap or candy wrapper showing from the top of the locker. I recall thinking at the time that this was a clever solution for locating your locker. Had I not relied on my “razor sharp” memory to locate my locker, things might have gone differently.