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... they even added this snappy illo:

HUFFINGTON POST 1st Post!

Bonni Brodnick wrote a new post 81 Years Old & the Essence of Awesomeness

Bonni Brodnick January 26, 2012 at 11:18am My mother has been touted for her amazing energy, eagerness to learn, and positive thinking. Aka "Ever-Ready Betty," she inspires everyone who meets her with a sunny outlook... and how about that...

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They Call it BreakFAST For a Reason

Here is my speedy morning routine on the non-healthy breakfast front: Take bowl of water. Throw in Celestial Seasonings Bengal Spice tea bag. Put in splash of vanilla soy milk. Slip into microwave for 4-minutes and 10-seconds.

While that is auto-"brewing," take out five boxes of cereal. Measure an exact one-cup combination of all the cereals into a plastic bowl-shaped Tupperware. Stuff another half-handful of the peanut butter puff cereal into my mouth.

Remove bowl of hot tea from the microwave and bring over to the sink. Place plastic travel mug directly in the sink. (I have learned the hard way how to pour hot liquid from a bowl into a mug.) Pour tea elixir into the mug and be sure lid is screwed on tightly. (I have learned the hard way the difference between "loosely" and "tightly.")

Balance the plastic bowl and the travel mug in one hand, even if the other hand is free. This adds to the thrill of breakfast-on-the-run and trying to lock the front door of the house.

Walk towards car. Hold bowl of cereal up to my mouth and see if some of it will stick to my tongue as I'm walking. (Hey, I live in the country. No one is around to watch me.) While doing so, put travel mug on top of car. Open door.

Slip travel mug into the holder in the front seat. (I have learned the hard way that it is better in the holder than on the seat.) Walk around to the driver's side of the car. Open the door with one hand, slip in, and place the bowl of cereal on the passenger seat. Close the door. Confirm that the travel mug is in the holder and not on top of the car. (I have learned the hard way that this is a necessary step.)

Put key in the ignition. Give the car some juice (not literally, but writing about breakfast is making me think of OJ).

Drive down my road. When the coast is clear, tear out of my driveway. Watch bowl of cereal fly all over the front seat. Wonder, for the crazillionth time, why I don't just take five minutes to eat the bowl of cereal at the kitchen table before leaving the house.

Now I am beginning to feel really crumby. Console myself by glancing over at the hot tea that is still intact. After taking a sip, I try to find the holder to slip it back into, which is sometimes like finding a light switch in the dark.

Stop at the light. Take a sip of hot tea. Continue driving. At next light, look down and see cereal beginning to drop into the leather seat crevices. Try to convince your brain that you weren't hungry anyway. Reach out for the tea. Take a sip. Notice that it is starting to get cold. Try to convince your brain that you weren't thirsty anyway.

Turn up the radio. Switch the station from NPR to soft rock. Sing along to "I Want to Move Like Jagger." Look straight ahead at the road. Do not for a millisecond look at the Cheerios all over the front seat. Continue the a.m. quest of trying to to embrace the real meaning of breakfast. (Or is it brake fast?)

POUND RIDGE PAST now @ Elm Street Books in New Canaan, Conn.

I'm delighted to tell you that Pound Ridge Past is now available at the coolest book store around, ELM STREET BOOKS in New Canaan.

Remember cozy neighborhood bookstores? Look no further.

@<|:-)

Mothering 20-Somethings

My children, now 21 and 23, are old enough to do everything I did when I was their age. It's funny how that happens. With one living in Brooklyn, and the other in college in Ithaca, it is rare, indeed, when we are all in the same sphere. And when the confluence occurs, it is heavenly. This weekend we all piled into the family station wagon and went to Grandma's. The two-hour ride was priceless ... just like in the old days, but without someone spilling their Cheerios or throwing up in the back seat. And so the question is: now that they are young adults, do I have any place to "comment" on cracked nail polish, dinner manners, hairstyles, or outfits? I have learned that many things that I used to wrangle are now out of my hands. After all, we are adults now. The children have joined us from the kiddie table where Spaghetti-O's were served to full-fledged boeuf-out and good wine at the big table with the elders. As we got in the driveway on our return home, I knew there was a safe and quick escape out of the car if they started screaming at me. After holding my tongue for hours, I couldn't resist asking, "Did you guys write thank you notes to Grandma for the nice birthday presents she sent to you?" I know. I know. I shouldn't have asked. If they were remiss in writing thank you notes-- what do you know -- it's no longer a reflection on me. And for asking, they'll think I'm the biggest pain and will never want to spend time with me ever again.

Why couldn't I have just let it be and not bring it up? Then, to my shock, came the following responses from the back seat: "Oh, yeah, I wrote Grandma a few weeks ago," said my 23-year old November "baby." "I did, too," chimed in my 21-year old December "baby." Wow. Without me standing over them, they had actually written their thank you notes. Kvelling quelled all the angst. My maternal pride beamed brightly as the motor shut off. Just like the opening bumper in"Entourage," we each stepped out of the car and trudged into the house.

Something, somehow, somewhere ... at least on the topic of "The Importance of Writing Thank You Notes" ... had gone right.

Now onto the next thing: Does anyone remember how important it is to wear shined shoes? We'll bring that up at the next family gathering.
Or not.

Books. Schmooze. Mark it. Make it.

Many thanks to Pound Ridge Library for inviting me to present my book, Pound Ridge Past: Remembrances of Our Townsfolk, at "Connecting with Your Community & Past" on Thursday, February 16, from 12-2.

If you are in this neck of the woods, come hear the skinny on personalities who dazzled the calm of the countryside from the 1920s to 70s. Lauren Bacall poolside? The "Wizard of Oz" himself?

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Don't even think about smiling

This begins our series of "Is It Me ... Or What?"

This weekend I went to the 9/11 Memorial at the World Trade Center. What is it about people who pose in front of memorial monuments and smile to have their picture taken? Is there some kind of disconnect with the human condition here? It's like wishing someone a "Happy" Memorial Day or "Happy" Yom Kippur.

Three-thousand people died in the terrorist attacks in our country on September 11, 2001. The 9/11 Memorial is dedicated to commemorating each individual who died in the terror.

Smiling for a photo in front of the 9/11 Memorial. Not. Appropriate.