The Arctic Blast, Katniss, and the German Yum-Yum Guy

Just another day to the locals.

Just another day to the locals.

We wanted to get away from it all, so we picked an “Off Peak” time to go to Lake Placid. Little did we know that this would correspond to the timing of the Great Arctic Blast of 2014.

We selected our room online, as we usually do. A King Bedroom for $129. Not too shabby! We loaded up the car, dropped Bailey at the kennel, and headed upstate.

The roads were not bad, as the temperature stayed about 34 degrees all the way up until we hit Keene Valley, just south of Lake Placid. I love this area in the summer, but driving through the twisty turns of the highway when the temperature dropped to 32 was a little dicey. Oh, and did I mention it was raining? Thankfully Mr. Porter had gotten the snow tires installed in the morning before we left town!

We arrived at the Crown Plaza, the hotel on the top of the hill, just up from the Olympic building and with a full view of Mirror Lake. Ah. We made it.

“You’ve been upgraded to a Deluxe King Suite,” the hotel worker told us. “It comes with a Jacuzzi tub and a fireplace.”


Ok, twist my arm.

Ok, twist my arm.

Gasp. “Okay, that sounds good.” No arguments here.

The room was located in the Adirondack Wing of the hotel. This section has a door that blocks it off from the rest of the hotel. When the door is shut, key card access is needed to enter.

The room was beautiful, with 12 foot ceilings, the promised fireplace, and of course a color TV.

Fireplace. Complete with water bottle photo bomb

Fireplace. Complete with water bottle photo bomb

We watched out the window over the next day while the snow came down. We went out for breakfast in the morning, and the thermometer in the car read 17 degrees. Brrr.

Cold.  Arctic Blast 2014

Cold. Arctic Blast 2014

Later, hubby took a 2.8 mile walk around Mirror Lake. It was reported that with the wind chill factor, it was 3 degrees!

I should mention here, that the locals don’t mind the cold, and I saw several wearing shorts, others wearing no coats as they go about their daily business.

No sun bathers here.

No sun bathers here.

The big bummer for me was the pool was too cold. The sign said that they maintain the pool at 72 – 75 degrees, which is fine and dandy in August. When it’s 17 degrees outside, um, is it too much to ask to boost it up a little? Even the children were leaving the pool to jump into the hot tub! I asked at the front desk if they could increase the temperature, and they did a degree or two, put my old bones, (and bionic hip) couldn’t adjust to the temperature. Boohoo. Yes, I’m spoiled. Or old.

While walking down the main street of Lake Placid, we passed the movie theatre and saw the sign that they would have a special showing of Mockingjay Thursday night at 8 pm. Katniss!! Most other openings for Mockingjay were scheduled for Friday the 21st. We hit gold.


Thursday night, at exactly 7 pm, I went up to the movie window and said, “Two adults for Mockingjay please.”

“We don’t start selling tickets for that movie until 7:30. It doesn’t start until 8. It’s because of all the kids.”

Stunned, I took my money and backed up. What is she talking about? Is she afraid a kid won’t be able to see the movie because I bought my tickets first? Does she think I am going to be scalping tickets, because there are thousands of people who are going to line up in 17 degree weather and she wants the kids to get in first? Huh?

I muttered to Mr. Porter all the way back to the car. What was she talking about? I should have told her that I almost died two weeks ago, and I just had breast cancer surgery, and why is my $7 not worth as much as theirs, and I probably want to see this movie more than they do!

With my usual knee-jerk reaction, I said, “Let’s forget it. We can watch it when we go home!”

Hubby said, “Let’s just wait until 7:30 and go back.”

“Fine. But here, you take the money and you ask for the tickets.” I didn’t want to talk to the movie nazi again.

At 7:29 we walked back inside the theatre. The line was already formed, and Mockingjay tickets were selling like the proverbial hotcakes. Mr. Porter purchased two from the movie nazi.

We went inside, noticing there were only about 12 people in the theatre. More and more folks came in, but by 7:59, there were still an easy 100 seats empty.

The movie nazi made another appearance, this time inside the theatre. “Shut down all your cellphones now. I don’t want to have to walk through here again.” Well, I had to agree with her on that one. It is so annoying for a phone light to be in my face while I’m trying to watch the show.

Mockingjay was fantabulous. No big spoilers here, although I really loved the line, “And my sister gets to keep her cat.”  Also Philip Seymour Hoffman—who was my favorite actor—was in this movie. I believe he will also be in Mockingjay part 2, as I heard it has already been filmed.

So I got to see Katniss. I felt like a teenager myself, waiting for the next installment in the series.

I noticed that the guests a few doors down never left the room. I hope they’re ok.

several days of newspapers

several days of newspapers

Friday we had to leave to go home, but first we made a trip to the German Yum-Yum shop, where the display of muffins, cookies, and scones makes me drool. Hubby dropped me off while he went to park the car. When he arrived one minute later, I had already bought the chocolate-chocolate-chocolate yummy, and had it in the bag ready to go. The German guy told me, “It tastes best if it’s allowed to warm to room temperature before eating.”

“Thanks.” Ha. He obviously doesn’t know me. That yummy never had a chance to get to room temperature.

We drove back home, and the temperature was 34 degrees again. Downright Toasty.


Bailey is glad to be home too!





The Bible teaches the message of salvation

The Bible teaches the message of salvation:

1.      Repent – of our sin and sincerely pray to God, seeking His forgiveness.

2.      Believe- Believe in God the Father, and believe in the Lord Jesus who paid the price for our sins, which we can never pay for ourselves.

3.      Do good works – As led by the Spirit of God. God has preordained that we should walk in them. The works themselves do not provide salvation but are evidence that we believe and have Faith in God.


1.      Repentance –

While each person is responsible for himself, for his own sin and repentance, we are born with a sin nature because of Adam and Eve’s sin.  (Babies are not of an age of accountability and if a baby dies, he/she will go to Heaven.) Adam and Even were made in the image of God, because the spirit that lived in them was from God. Their bodies were made of the dust of the earth. When they sinned, the spirit within them died, thus bringing the sin nature into the human race.

“From then on, Jesus began to preach and to say, “Repent, because the kingdom from heaven is near!”   -Matt 4:17

“But if you don’t repent, then you, too, will perish.”    – Luke 13:3



2.      Believe-

If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. –Romans 10: 9-10

Jesus paid the price for our sin with his Blood. We can never pay the price for our sin by ourselves.

But God demonstrates his love for us by the fact that the Messiah died for us while we were still sinners. Now that we have been justified by his blood, how much more will we be saved from wrath through him!  –Romans 5:8-9


How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?
For I passed on to you the most important points that I received: The Messiah died for our sins according to the Scriptures, He was buried, he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures—and is still alive!— 1 Corinthians 15:3-4
For He is the propitiation for our sins and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.  1 John 2:2
Yet the time is coming, and is now here, when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. Indeed, the Father is looking for people like that to worship him.
God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”   – John 4:23-24


There is therefore  now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.
For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh:
That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.   – Romans 8:1-4


3.      WORKS.

We don’t do works to receive salvation. Works are proof that we have already received the gift of salvation. Once we have believed God, we want to do his will.

In the same way, faith by itself, if it does not prove itself with works, is dead.  But someone may say, “You have faith, and I have works.” Show me your faith without any works, and I will show you my faith by my works.  –James 2:18
Jesus said, “If you do not believe that I am He, you will die in your sins.” – John 8:24

My blood pressure dropped to 83/35 and I yelled, “Get Help!”

Last Tuesday, I was sitting here on the computer when suddenly the center of my chest hurt like the proverbial elepant sitting on it, and my stomach hurt with knife-like stabs. I sat back in the chair to calm down and slow my breathing. A hot flash enveloped me, and my head began spinning. The hot flash increased with intensity and I stumbled to the freezer to get ice, while the room around me began to spin and get dark.


I put ice on my forehead and wrists, as I had done many times while a teenager, when the monthly fiend would throw my system out of whack.

After fifteen minutes I was fine, and went about my day.

When Mr. Porter came home from work that night, I told him what had happened. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you call someone?” he asked.

“Because I felt okay.” I didn’t want to bother anyone.

The next morning we agreed I would go to my Primary Care Doctor and get checked over. I got the resident Nurse Specialist who told us to go to the Emergency Room at the hospital.

Here’s where the fun begins. I was brought into a small room, with a cot, where a pit crew took over my body. One took blood, one inserted and IV hookup, one took my temperature, one took my blood pressure–which by the way was normal. I was sitting up, with the back of the cot up for support.

The Nurse Practictioner then asked if I had chest pain. Well I had a little on the left side of my chest. “This will make you feel better,” she said, handing me a nitro-glycerin tablet. “Put it under your tongue.” With that, she left the room.

My chest began hurting again like the previous episode, and I began feeling hot and dizzy. I instinctively was driving to get my head down, and scooting down the bottom of the cot. “Get help,” I said to my husband. He noticed that my blood pressure was 83/35 and my pulse was 47. He went to the desk across the hall from my room, where three 20-something workers were chit-chatting.

“My wife needs help.”

“Well, call your nurse.”

“Can you help me find the nurse?”

“Ring for the nurse on the button.”

“What button?”

“The calling button on the remote.”

“We don’t have a remote.”

“There is one in  your room. It’s attached to the wall.”

I imagine at this point the 20-somethings were all rolling their eyes at each other as my husband came back into my room and frantically looked for the remote for the nurse button behind my bed, and a shelf by the back wall. He found it and pressed the button for the nurse.

I confess I don’t remember what happened here. But soon enough, the cot was rolling through the halls, and up the elevator. I was placed in a room next to a woman who was hacking up phlegm. Thankfully the curtain between us was closed. A doctor came in to talk to the hacking woman, and asked what color the phlegm was: beige, green, clear. Okay, HIPAA, I know you are supposed to keep things private, but can’t you also work the other way, so that *I* don’t  have to hear things that I don’t want to?

Over the next day and a half, I was subjected to all kinds of fun. I was given radio-active dye and placed into some kind of mod photo taking machine. I was given a stress test. I was unable to get my heart rate up to 144, as I am still recovering from the major surgery of 2 months ago, and remember, I have an artificial hip. So — they gave me a chemical to stress my heart. Oh here we go again, chest pains, can’t breathe, dizzy. But they got the EKG they needed, and then they gave me the “antidote.”

After all the tests and different kinds of pictures, the doctors were happy to tell me that they can find nothing wrong, and that I can go home, and isn’t that just great.

I have a suspiction as to what caused this. I recently started taking estrogen-blocking meds that are supposed to diminish the chances of the cancer returning. (Of course when I called my Oncologist to ask about this, she said she never heard of that kind of problem.)


But then I found this:


So I’m sticking to my theory. And if I have another episode, I will be throwing these pills out the window.



Bailey wants cheese



What’s that sound I hear?

It sounds like the crinkling of a cheese wrapper!

I love cheese.


I’ll just wander over and see what Mom is doing.

She can’t resist my cute face.


What’s that you’re doing there, Mom?

I thought I heard some crinkling noises and I wanted to protect you.


That doesn’t look like cheese.

What the heck is that?


Walnuts? Ugh. I don’t want any stinking walnuts.



I’ll go to sleep and dream of better times…like when Mom dropped all that Mozzarella cheese on the floor……



That was a great day!



My Outcast Heart – I recommend you read this book!



Originally posted on SueAnn Porter: recently finished reading an e-book novel called My Outcast Heart by Anna C. Bowling.

I don’t normally read romance novels (mostly because they are all sex and very little romance) but this one held my attention. The story takes place in colonial New York in the 1720’s.  It is a sweet story of a young woman named Tabetha who meets and falls in love with an “outcast” named Dalby.  Of course there are “villainous villains” who want to take Tabetha’s property away, and want to do terrible things to Dalby the “outcast.”

Who doesn’t love to hate a good villain?

There are no blatant sex scenes; you could let your teenager read this without blushing. (now that’s shocking, eh?)

There is a scene in the book where people pray over their meal. (How often do you see THAT in a “romance” novel?) They attend church. (repeat question here)  They…

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The video everyone is talking about…and my two cents

The video of a woman walking down a city street, listening to men call out to her, has struck a nerve.

The video was done to show what an average good-looking woman goes through every day in the city.

She was not scantily dressed; just what an average woman would wear while on her way from point A to point B.

She was wearing microphones, and was working with a man who walked in front of her with a camera in his backpack. No one would know they were being taped when they spoke to her.

As a formerly good-looking woman, I can relate to the fear that this woman would experience. Every single cat-call or “greeting” requires a split second decision: “Am I in danger?” When this goes on for hours, it can really drain your adrenal glands. She is not free to walk down the street, contemplating what will happen at work that day, or meeting friends for lunch. She has to think continually, “Is there a threat against me?”

Many commenters on websites have said that people were merely saying hello and that it’s no big deal. It is a big deal. A woman is sexually assaulted every 15 seconds in the country. I’ve read comments where they called her “rude” or said she was dressed too sexy. What?!

Many of the men in the video were obviously interested in more than “hello.” They saw her as a sex object, and felt perfectly fine saying so. “You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful.” “Why don’t you say thank you that he thinks you’re beautiful?!” Because she is NOT here for your pleasure. She is here for herself. Why should she be expected to answer every comment? She would never get where she is going if she had to stop and chat with everyone who approached her.

I remember watching a third-grade class line up to change classrooms. A boy pulled a girl’s hair and hurt her. She immediately told the teacher who replied, “Just ignore him.” The boy smiled. He could do whatever he wanted to the little girl, and the one who was supposed to protect her did not. This reinforces that 1) she has no right to her body and 2) the boy can do whatever he wants to her. Incidents like these happen all the time. What are we teaching our children?

I’m glad this woman took the time to make the video. I admired her bravery to do it, and then to post in for the world to see, knowing that many people would criticize her.

I consider what was done to her bullying. There is such a big movement to stop bullying in schools; why not stop it in the culture as a whole?







All I wanted was to sleep past 7:53 am

sleep-clipart-SleepingIs that too much to ask? It was Saturday, and I just wanted to sleep in. Maybe even sleep until 9 am. I had a busy week. Four out of five days last week I had doctor appointments. Cancer Surgeon, Radiology Doctor, Plastic Surgeon, and Oncologist. All the visits went well, but it was still a roller coaster ride. So when Saturday rolled around, I just wanted to pull up the covers and stay in bed.

As you know, Mr. Porter is a morning person. He gets up wayyyy before the sun and starts his day. He took Bailey for a walk early Saturday morning. While I was still lying in bed, I heard the phone ringing. As usual, I incorporated it into my dream and kept sleeping. I heard the robotic female voice on our phone say, “Call from: blah, blah.”  Ok, whatever.

But then, the phone rang again, and it kept ringing. I finally drug dragged my butt out of bed and saw that it was the contractor who was scheduled to come over and fix our front step:


The carpenter ants had chewed their way through the front step. The exterminators sprayed several times during the last six months, and the ants were finally dead. It was time to put a new piece of wood on the front of the house.

The phone stopped ringing before I picked it up, but I saw the contractor number and thought I heard some noise outside.  I noted the phone said 7:53 am. I was still in my hot pink bathrobe– pink-like-peptol-bismol-pink-with-an-“on”-switch pink. I stumbled downstairs and opened the door. There was Mr. Contractor Dude, pacing nervously. “Hi,” I growled in my best morning voice. “Isn’t my husband here?”

“I just called him.” He answered. “He said he was walking the dog and would be right back.”

Have no fear, Bailey's here.

Have no fear, Bailey’s here.

I looked towards the road, and here comes hubby and Bailey. “Well, there he is then.” I gave a deep exhale, and hid my hot pink self behind the door and slammed it  closed it securely.




Now that it’s all over, and the front step is repaired, Gee, I guess it was worth it?



Sure it looks good now.

Maybe I should take away the Welcome mat. I should bring it in at night, and only put it outside later in the morning, when people are actually welcome?