Ah, Central Park

New York, New York...

I always wondered what all the hoopla is about. Why so many books and movies and TV shows are set there. Until I went. OMG. What a fantastic place to visit. I can barely imagine how it is to actually live there.

Thing is, I don't think New Yorkers take any of it for granted!

We celebrated my hubby's life in NYC...after the battle with T.C. Planning the trip gave us hope, something to aspire to, when he got his life back. We plan on going back in 2011. I'll already be there for the RWA National Convention. He'll join me at the end.

Right now...I'll relive those memories and play the slide show in my head as we wait on the next round of follow-up blood work and CT scan. Routine but scary as hell. Oh, my personal hero's fine. Grabbing life close, hitting the links often as he can and hanging out with his little grandson. Life can't get any better than it is.

It's just that...after that ugly thing came to live with us, there's always something there to remind us...

Keep him in your prayers. Thanks.

Tanya Writes About the House that Ruth Built

I've got to admit it. I was stirred last night. Shaken. Shivering and teary. And all because of the festivities in New York for the All-star Game. And I even watched all 15 innings...

Why? I'm not a sports addict although three sport movies have made it into my Top Ten Favorites: Hoosiers, Rudy, and Remember The Titans. And I love Angel baseball and Trojan Football. (Fight on!)

My hero is the sports nut. And so is my brother-in-law. So when the guys heard The House That Ruth Built was meeting its maker this summer, they had to go to a game. My amazing sister-in-law Roberta (you can leave off the in-law part; I never had birth sisters because Roberta was soooo worth waiting for!) planned a jaunt for us four to New York City to celebrate my hero's recovery and to do Yankee stuff.

Oh my.

The Tour of Yankee Stadium was beyond my wildest imagination. Standing in the outfield looking toward Home. Trying to memorize every inch of Monument Park. Hearing in my head Lou Gehrig's 'I'm the Luckiest Man Alive' speech.

(I kept calling it Monument Valley to my hero's affectionate disgust.)


Press Box and Bases and Ground Crew, oh my.

It got even better the next night when we attended an actual game. I got to see Johnny Damon play. Yummo. Now, I know this is heresy to admit: I like both the Sox and the Yankees, and he's kinda a traitor back in Boston where, last October, we got to see the Sox beat our beloved Angels in the bottom of the ninth at Fenway during our leaf-peeper trip. But wow, the cheers. The Green Monstah. The "Sweet Caroline," The clam chowder...a night to remember.

Well, our seats in The House were set at a 89 degree slope, but I, pretty in my pink Yankee ballcap, didn't care a whit...And I just can't believe they're ripping The House down. Its replacement is already right next door. There were dozens of hard-hat hotties building away. But still. Nobody ever suggests ripping down the Tower of London and building a newer version.

Oh my. There just isn't anything to compare with emerging from the B Train at 161st Street and seeing It: The House that Ruth Built.

Even I got chills. Still get 'em.

So last night, watching all the Midtown celebrating, the aerial views of Central Park, the all-stars and the old-stars put me into a real Wow mode.

It just about brought down the house.