We’re off to the airport this morning after our lovely week in the Bahamas. The best thing about a family vacation when your kids are older is the opportunity to have every meal with them.  We rarely eat together when they are home,  but we always dine together when we travel.

This morning, as we had our last breakfast on a terrace overlooking the sea, we remarked on the other people who were dining – many of whom we had given special nicknames.  We’re  inveterate people watchers (and mockers) we four, and had been reporting back to each other every day on the antics of Rude Guy, who had ambushed the manager with a torrent of abuse within minutes of arriving here, coincidentally, at the same time that we arrived. So appalled were we by his behavior that we all went out of our way to prove to the staff that we had no connection to him and his frowning wife.  There was much rolling of eyes and glaring from our camp and ridiculous overtipping out of some sort of guilt by association.  We had arrived on this quiet, idyllic island on the same plane as these griping sourpusses and we felt that we owed the island some sort of compensation. Then there was dear, dear Doting Dad, who spent an entire week walking around cuddling and nuzzling his baby daughter, who couldn’t have been more than three months old.  The handsome, middle-aged man and his daughter could be found rocking under a shady tree by the pool,  or strolling along the pathways (she held in the crook of his arm with her plump cheek pressed to his) or under an umbrella in the sand – she kicking her feet in the air, he smiling at her, helplessly in love. When he carried her into the restaurant one evening, the two of them were dressed in crisp colorful, matching resort wear – hers with ballooning diaper-concealing pantaloons.  I told the kids, excitedly,  that I thought he was a single dad who had decided to adopt the baby or have her by surrogate, but the kids told me they’d seen the mom reading by the pool each day, alone.  She became Lazy Mom to us.  Of course there was wise Leo, the Tennis Whisperer and hunky Calvin, his son.  And on the beach, each day, a procession of strangers paraded past.  Young honeymooners, old marrieds, pairs of women -deep in conversation, athletes running in the sand, swimmers, dealers in jewelry (or worse), laughing children and tired parents – all revealing truths that have been lost to us these cold months up north – hard and beautiful truths about youth and age.   The beach walkers moved along the water’s edge like a patient migrating herd, their heads bent slightly into the wind, their bosoms, bellies, scars, tattoos, pregnancies, cellulite, hair, muscles, wrinkles and veins all unabashedly exposed, like imperfect but delightful  offerings to the merciless sun and to anybody else who cared to look.

VACATION by Rita Dove
I love the hour before takeoff,
that stretch of no time, no home
but the gray vinyl seats linked like
unfolding paper dolls. Soon we shall
be summoned to the gate, soon enough
there’ll be the clumsy procedure of row numbers
and perforated stubs—but for now
I can look at these ragtag nuclear families
with their cooing and bickering
or the heeled bachelorette trying
to ignore a baby’s wail and the baby’s
exhausted mother waiting to be called up early
while the athlete, one monstrous hand
asleep on his duffel bag, listens,
perched like a seal trained for the plunge.
Even the lone executive
who has wandered this far into summer
with his lasered itinerary, briefcase
knocking his knees—even he
has worked for the pleasure of bearing
no more than a scrap of himself
into this hall. He’ll dine out, she’ll sleep late,
they’ll let the sun burn them happy all morning
—a little hope, a little whimsy
before the loudspeaker blurts
and we leap up to become
Flight 828, now boarding at Gate 17.

Somebody told me once that everything you need to know in life you can learn on the tennis court, and you know, it’s true.  I learned this again today, when I took a lesson with the amazing Leo Rolle, a former Davis Cup competitior and longtime tennis pro at this beautiful resort where we are staying.

I had my first lesson from Leo several years ago when I was just learning tennis.  Leo exudes calm, assertive energy at all times.  If you watch The Dog Whisperer, you’ll know what I’m talking about.  It’s the psychological state that Cesar Millan believes one must achieve in order to effectively communicate with people and animals, and if you are able to exude calm, assertive energy yourself, you actually can bring out the same energy in others. Anyway, when I had my first lesson with Leo, he told me, among many other things, that my stranglehold on the grip and fierce swatting at the ball would result in elbow injuries. He also told me that I had excessive “New York” energy, and that I should try to let go of that and remember that I am in his native Bahamas, where people don’t feel such a sense of urgency all the time.  He knows a lot about sports psychology and tried to fix some of my bad habits, but we were only here for a few days.  Now, a couple years and three elbow injections later, I’m back!

So yesterday, I went down for my lesson with Leo, but Leo was booked and instead, I had a lesson with his son, Calvin.  Calvin is absolutely adorable.  I’m at an age now when I can carry on about cute younger guys because it’s silly and harmless, right?  Calvin is not much older than my son, after all! But Calvin, though he was calm and polite and friendly, brought out what Cesar Millan would call “excited energy,” in me.  I was like those nutty Pomeranians that race around yapping at nothing.  I was giggling and whacking the ball and giggling and swatting at the ball and when Calvin came over to my side of the court to give me some tips I got all wound up and had a hard time focusing.  He did give me a great lesson though, and at the end, Leo came down and it was determined that Leo would give me a lesson today.

Today, when I arrived at the court, running and bellowing apologies for being a few minutes late, Leo stood calmly and then asked, quietly, if I was ready to begin.  This made me answer, quietly, that I was. And then he gave me the best tennis lesson I’ve ever  had, laced with all sorts of philosophy and psychology that made the sport seem like some sort of zen guide to enlightened living.  Here’s an example –  I tend to hit the ball hard but my follow-through sucks.  Leo explained that anybody can hit a ball hard, but the follow-through gives the ball direction.  Then he said, “Any woman can have children, but it’s not where the children start,  but where they end up that is important.  Anybody can start a business, but without direction, without follow-through, it will go nowhere.”  He told me that he can see that I’m very competitive and while being competitive is fine, in my case, it’s getting in my way, because I don’t have the basic tools – the skills, required to focus all this competitive energy. And I have to relax. The tension, the tension, the tension, he said.  He had me hold the racket with just my thumb and forefinger and hit the ball several time like that, just to show me that you don’t need to smash at each ball as if it’s the last ball you’ll ever hit.  The ball skimmed over the net when I hit it this way.  Then he let me hold it the proper way and we just hit balls, back and forth.  I focused on the smooth arc of my swing, not on where I wanted to smash the ball. I watched the ball into the racket, and when I met the ball, I followed through. Again, and again and again.

It’s not where the ball, or the child or the book or the marriage or the job starts.  It’s where it ends up that’s important. Well, I booked a lesson for tomorrow as reinforcement.

I love that you all made a guessing game about where we are.  I think Tracy got it right first – the Bahamas.

Welcome back, Tracy!

Today we arrived at this lovely place, a place that we return to each year. Well, last year we tried to return here but we ran into a little trouble with the airport personnel because I seriously messed up.

But this year all passports are valid and here we are, all four of us. It’s beautiful and sunny. The locals are wearing jackets, because they think it’s cold, but we’re in bathing suits because we think it’s almost warm.  Denis has been working very long hours and is so happy to have a break, as are the kids.  I am joyous because a) we’re all together, b) I can hear the ocean and c) I figured out how to edit the Flip videos today!  Yes, no more endless footage of our ceiling and floor as I try to focus on those ever fascinating subjects – my dogs.  I’m tempted to go back and edit the old videos but am too lazy.  Henceforth, though, I’m tempted to do a little daily DTV. Just short clips.

Like this – a short clip of two girls who are wondering what happened to the people who used to sleep and eat and work and play on the bed all day long. Please note the size of Lulu’s paws. They’re like furry hooves:

No we're not going to LA affair/But we will dress like this as we do everywhere

Blogger’s Cramp
by Ann Leary

I’ve heard it from more than one or two,
This blog’s becoming a bore for you.

“The blog’s too doggy!” “Not another poem!”
“We’ve seen enough trees! PLEASE, enough loam!”
(Okay, nobody’s complained about loam)

Well, next week for a change of pace,
I’ll take some photos of a tropical place.

Yes, we’re taking a trip, there’s a break in the show,
So prepare yourselves for a blog without snow.

A beach, a hammock, a thatch-roofed hut
Should get us out of our winter blog rut

Perhaps you’re worried that I shouldn’t declare
Our travel plans to everyone, everywhere.

Don’t worry, our caretaker’s a pretty tough nut
(and he carries a registered you-know-what)

And Lulu bites, I haven’t shared that before
Well, now you know, she bites like a whore.

No I didn’t steal that from Whitman or Shelley
“She bites like a whore,” came right outta me belly!

And onto the blog where it will enchant or enrage you.
I give, and I give and I give, just to engage you!

Last night I had dinner with my friend Candace Bushnell.  Candace, as you probably all know is the author of the famous book, Sex and the City, which spawned the hit TV series and film, and she also has written several other bestsellers including Lipstick Jungle (also a subsequent series), Four Blondes and most recently, One Fifth Avenue.

Well, Candace has a new book coming out which I’ve read and am very excited about because  its a “Young Adult” title, and it’s a) smart, b)  funny and c)  not about vampires. It’s called The Carrie Diaries.  It’s about Carrie Bradshaw when she was in high school, before she got all boy crazy and shoe-obsessed.  It comes out at the end of April so keep your eyes open for it.

And time for another installment of The Real House Dogs of Litchfield County.  In this episode,  the dogs try to sit and stay.  Lulu, the dog with “learning differences” has problems with impulse control, so you will see that she breaks the stay pretty quickly.  There is some crazy camera action as I correct her, then when I step back to shoot the three of them again,  I discover that Holly has thought of something funny to do.  Her wonderful flair for improv and camera-stealing tendencies are starting to try the patience of the other girls. Stay tuned.

Remember the good old days, when I wrote about social issues, fitness, literature, beauty and red-carpet glamour? Well, I’m afraid those days are over, at least for the present. People, I have discovered the Flip camera, have learned how to load the videos and this blog, as we once knew it,  will never be the same.

Seriously, I promise not to keep doing this, I know it’s boring, but, well, I’m having so much fun. Here are some vids I tooks this morning. In the first, you will experience with me, the serenity and peace that surrounds me as I enjoy my morning coffee in bed with my dear companions:

In this next, the dogs have accompanied me to the barn to feed the horses. Each day I teach Holly the “watch out” command, that the other dogs know. She is so little that she really needs to obey around the horses. When told to “watch out,” she is to go to the back of the aisle and sit, facing me. Not bad for a 5 month old.

And in this last you can see the three dogs waiting as I let horses out of stalls. Lulu came to us at 9 months of age with very bad/dangerous horse manners. She would bark, growl and actually snap at their muzzles and engage in all sorts of herding/predatory behavior when they were in field. Fortunately my horses have fox hunted (we never killed any foxes, promise, not once in all the times I hunted) and they won’t run from barking dogs, nor kick them, so she has more or less stopped with her attempts to chase them. But she’s still learning barn manners as you will see. At end, I overlook her ignoring my “stay” command and allow her to go into horse’s empty stall for leftovers. I’m more focused on the puppy at present and Lulu has learning issues, so just not barking at horses is good enough for today.

Yes, I believe I can now post videos that I have taken, onto my own blog.  Here’s my first video, taken with a Flip camera I received for Christmas. This is a nightly ritual with the dogs.  Puppy waits for all the dogs to finish their supper. Then she just sits back and dares them to try to eat hers. When they show an interest, she rushes over to the food and eats it slowly and deliberately, just to torture them:

Okay, that was short and kind of boring. Now time to wow you with some tricks. Ready?

I know, if you didn’t see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe it possible for dogs to pull off such an amazing feat.

And now, for Holly’s solo act. I’m teaching her to balance on a large ball and on a skateboard so that she’ll be able to push them. We just started learning this yesterday. Please ignore my incredibly annoying voice.

There’s a new book on the nightstand – Dani Shapiro’s memoir, Devotion. Read it and then you can discuss it with her on April 5th. Right here!

As many of you know I wiped out most of my photos on hard drive, but in recovering some of the data, I came upon these photos that my mother sent me of her family, the Sullivans.  I have yet to see a photo of this family that doesn’t have a dog in it.

That’s my mom, the baby on her mother’s lap.  Her brother is petting Freshy the Welsh Terrier.  Uncle Sull, if you’re looking for your dad, I think he was taking the photo.

I just love looking at old photos. This would have been around 1940.  Look at the clothes and hair, everybody all arranged for the photo.

Somebody very kindly posted my (Leo) horoscope yesterday or the day before and I’ve been scanning all the comments because I’m wondering if it warned that I would break a tooth and then a computer in one weekend.  I still can’t find the comment with the horoscope, but did get a new laptop today. Mine has been on it’s way out for a long time. It didn’t close and I had to tape it shut when I traveled with it. I guess you’re not supposed to keep dropping the laptops on the ground.  And it wasn’t really my tooth that broke, on Friday, just a veneer. On one of my front teeth. Oh, you thought those were my real teeth?  No, no, my real teeth have been filed down to scary little nubbins in order to make way for the veneers. You see, I had a less than perfect smile.  I had a big gap between my front teeth that somehow looked cool until I was 35, and then, overnight, made me look like a witch.  I’m not sure how that happened but the exact same thing happened to a friend of mine when she turned 35.

But yesterday nothing broke.  Denis and I went to see our daughter play her last high school hockey game.  Holly came along. She is sometimes timid in unfamiliar places so I’m trying to expose her to stuff.  The last time I took her to a hockey game she shivered under my coat, so this time I found a little hoodie for her.

Yes, it’s a hockey sweatshirt! I found it on a stuffed bear.

Lord almighty, ain’t she a cute ‘un, though? (Still missing part of tooth).

She rode on Denis’s lap on the way to the game.

And she rooted for Dev’s team.

Sorry, the hockey photos all came out a little blurry, but that’s our Dev with her stick on the ice (I think).

GO BIG RED!