Old Is Cute

by Amy Platon

We just had a lovely week. My kids’ Auntie stayed with us for 7 days, which meant some much needed fun and relaxation. It’s the only thing I would change if I could do it all again, I’d live closer to family.

It’s funny what memory does. It’s like it holds out. My memory of Auntie had her pretty much stuck at oh, 45. So every time we get together, I’m surprised at how much older she has gotten.

The things I’ve noticed has me on the look out in my own life. For instance, you know you’re old when you use the window in your wallet (the one that’s meant for your driver’s license) for your insurance card. You also know you’re getting older when you spill your coffee on the floor as you walk, but you have no idea until twenty minutes later when you’re wondering who spilled coffee all over the floor. (And some of you know, I don’t drink coffee.) You also know you’re old when you say stuff like “What is a blog honey?”

I say all of this in love, and because old is cute-when it’s on someone else.

So while Auntie was here, husband and I took off for one night to relive our youth downtown. Oh don’t laugh like you haven’t done that.

Again, my memory left off when I was in my 20’s. But oddly, I didn’t feel old when we were out. We had some drinks and watched a cover band play songs older than us, and we had fun. Then we started saying to one another, "Hey, remember Barbarellas? Wonder if they are still playing the Smiths."

So we payed our tab and marched down to what has now been renamed Independence Bar. And they are still playing the Smiths! We got carded at the door (how cute) and our adrenaline was on the rise as we realized the place hadn’t really changed that much. We grabbed a beer at the front bar and made our way to the back of the club where all the dancing takes place.

We arrived to an entire club (I mean entire club) of people rocking out to Sister’s of Mercy - we were loving it. Although, as our eyes adjusted to the smoke and strobes, we began to sense something was not quite right. (No it hasn’t become a gay club – not that there’s anything wrong with that, I have friends who are gay.) But it turned out that everyone dancing was in their late 30’s early 40’s. And it was like the exact same crowd we remembered when we used to go there, only fifteen years older, fatter, and poorly dressed. Oh my god! Husband and I looked at each other and our mouths dropped. “It’s us!”














We drank our beer and he grabbed my hand - not a moment too soon. We hit the dance floor and danced like two birds splashing in the fountain of youth. We blended right in and had the best time we’ve had in forever!

Cheers - Here's to gettin' old! And having A Beautiful Life, hope I'm cute!

Throw it to Me!

by Amy Platon

Have you made a perfect stranger smile lately? Well I have to say, since it’s my night job, I’ve not really felt compelled to try doing it on my days off. So, I guess I was in an especially smiley mood when I did what I did.

As usual, this story takes place in my local grocery store. *Imagine if I really had a life? Oh the stories I could tell.* I was planning to use a competitor coupon that gives me BOGO on fish fillets. To do that, I had to have the fish guy wrap up my three fillets separately. And he did, cause that’s his job.

And, I’m not really sure what came over me, but when he finished wrapping my first fillet in paper, I clapped my hands and held up my palms. He peered over his glasses at me. As if it wasn’t obvious, I shout, “Throw it to me!”

He looked to his left (over his glasses) then launched it right at my chest. I caught it and threw it into my buggy.

My smile was so big that infectious would be an understatement. He had made my day. “I’ve always wanted to do this!” I shouted. PS: Don’t ask me why I was yelling at him.

He laughed (out loud) and tossed me the second fillet. “This is just like the fish market!” I shout. In hindsight it really wasn’t. I'm in Orlando Florida after all, not the Seattle fish market, but I was totally in the moment.


He threw me the third fillet and smiled his own really-big-infectious-smile and told me to have a good day. “Thanks!” I said and really meant it. “You’re the best!”

And he was the best. Because he played! Like kids, we played. Perfect strangers and complete adults - we played.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a little crazy - right out in public and all. But this was the best time I’ve had in a while. And even if it’s not your style to do something so bold, I say try it! Just once, try it! (Sorry, I'm yelling again.) It’s super-fun.

I told you mine, now you tell me yours! Post your comments (here) and share what you’ve done to make a perfect stranger smile!

Home Sweet Home

by Amy Platon


So many of us are “stuck” in our homes for the long haul, we’ve had to hang up our ruby red slippers and quit house dreaming.

Many of us thought we’d only be here for a couple of years. Back when the market was hot (in my area anyway) we took what ever we could get. We were consumed by a tornado of fear that the house we wanted would be lifted up by it's roots out of our reach. Buy now, lock in your rate, so what if you don’t love it, you can always upgrade later…spun in our heads as we signed on the dotted line.

But here we are, another year in the house we rushed to buy - Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Things aren’t perfect, but definitely workable.

And nothing can make you fall in love with your home all over again like a cute redesign. I think we did an effective job at making our cookie cutter home right for us. But, I have that one room I’m out of ideas for. And no matter how many magazines I flip through, I can’t think of an easy solution.

That room, for me, is my kitchen. I want it to feel like the rest of my house. It feels hollow, blank, and cold even.

Here’s a tour – come in, and follow the yellow brick road.

When you walk in our front door you are greeted with the subtle feel of water, or the ocean. The tropical beach theme is totally us. Hubby is from the Pacific Islands and I grew up on the coast.













Then our dining room is themed after a sandy beach. I call that my driftwood dining table.













Here’s our patio. It's like a lagoon, which Todo completely approves of.













And I wanted our upstairs living room to feel like a treetop, so green, green everywhere!













It was all moving along so nicely. Once we got to the kitchen, we painted the wall like a sunset (or sunrise) and then I ran out of ideas. I had a bad case of decorators block. I’ll stand over here with the crickets while you take a look at the picture.













I think we can all agree, this tin man needs a heart! I would like a suspended horizontal cabinet over the bar with glass doors that open on either side so it feels light but tucks the room in a bit. And I guess we should break down and buy some handles for the cabinets. An area rug is out of the question though. We have a dog and two kids remember.














Hum, what else?

I’m not replacing the cabinets. They are new and I would never tear them out to add to a landfill unless they were rotting. I don’t think I can refinish them because they are coated in some sort of slick material and that makes them super easy to clean.

…So, maybe a cool light fixture over the sink?

Anyway, you see my problems… I’m totally indecisive. Oh, if I only had a brain... And just when I was coming to terms with having a kitchen I don’t love. (Is that so bad after all?) I realized that Layla (my Dream Catcher) offers her services for just this kind of dilemma.

Well then, back on the bicycle Dorothy, because we're off to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard of OZ.

I’ll keep you updated. I’m so excited to have her input. I’ll post here with her results. And if you need a little sprucing up, then you need to consider her. She’ll work in any budget (even $0) and her ideas are complete treasures.

Auntie Em! Auntie Em! I’m finally home!


UPDATE! The pictures are in from my consultation: Kitchen Inspiration


Related Posts:
Dream Catcher: Lalya Palmer
Swimming in Circles
My New Stray
Tales From the Sidelines