It's All In A Name ... Or Is it?

Okay. I am putting this up to a vote. The slight. Ever so. Change to the name of my blogs. I am getting responses personally. Some yea. Some nay. So I am going to throw this out to the universe (small as it is) to chime in.

Should it be: When Life Hands You Lemons, Add Vodka! [Note I am really a gin drinker - Bombay - and a dirty martini three olives at that. But vodka sounded better.]

Or: When Life Hands You Lemons, Make Limoncello! [Lemonade for the mature adult. High alcohol and sweet after dinner drink on a sultry, steamy summer eve on a terrace overlooking the sea. Ah. I digress!]

Let me know. I am listening.

Cheers!

Limoncello

I am changing the name of my column. Ever so slightly. In honor of my dear friends. The BSers (as we are known affectionately). My intimate dinner group of four trusted trustees of our beloved Brick Store Museum who found in each other similar sensibilities, convivial spirits and much laughter several years ago.

PJ, Bruce, Chris and I. All singletons when the tradition began. Now expanded to include significant others or guests (which is rare). Our friends covet our camaraderie and escapades. Who wouldn't want to be in the company of four bemused fifty-somethings?

Bimonthly one of us gourmands wanting to share our culinary skills with the others. We gather for hours of gaiety and gracious entertaining. Now I know what you are thinking. And, yes, you are probably correct. We each can spin some yarn. Pontificate on subjects inane and cultured. Weave a fantabulous story to the delight of each other.

One sultry, steamy August night, PJ ... whose stunning beach side home was filled with laughter and starlight ... served sorbet and lemon cookies with a strange new drink. A sweet yellow delight chilled frosty. One easily flowed to the next to the next to the next. The evening made all the more hysterical, or sublime, or witty or earth shattering (not quite certain which) as we glowed in the after supper candlelight sipping a liqueur glass of ice cold limoncello.

The Italian digestivo. Made from Sorrento lemons in southern Italy along the Amalfi Coast. Capri. Anacapri. Winding mountain roads by the navy blue sea shimmering with sun sparkles. The devil's drink. A cleverly disguised sophisticated grown up lemonade. To cool the night. PJ brought a bit of Italian romance to our group of darling BSers. Not that romance. But the romance of supping on the terrace overlooking the sea. Hammered.

So as the weather turns mild and the sun sits a bit higher in the sky I look forward to our summer suppers by the sea made all the more bright with a sip or two of our now cherished limoncello.

Cheers to the BSers ... and the stretch of road along the Gulf of Naples!

Banana-fanna-fo-fanna ... fee-fi-mo-mana ... banana!

Okay. The name sucks. That's what I have been hearing. So shoot me. I had a few moments to go on my S-day. Right down to the wire. Late late on my deadline date. January 1. I had, after all, promised myself I would start my musings on the very first day of 2010. How could I fail at my one resolution? Well I also wanted to lose 15 pounds ... but that one is perennial. Get those holiday wrappers off before daylight savings kicks in.

So January 1 was winding down. And there is a time-date stamp on blogspot. I was racing against the clock. Literally. Couldn't be out of sync. Not in lock step with the calendar. No way.

Time was a'wasting. And I hadn't put one word on the page. Not one. Had thrown up all night. Not from celebrating. If only. Nope. A fast moving tummy bug caught me in her vices. So the hours were ticking away and this had to begin. But to begin I needed a URL. My own very unique spot in cyberspace. Where I could pontificate. Hold court. Or, just plain ramble. Couldn't get one word on the page until I chose the name. Unchangeable, to boot. A commitmentphobe, I numbed out. Writer's block. Every creative juice flowing out of my body. A blank slate.

So what's a girl to do? Grab one out of the freakin' air? So I asked my muses. Neither was helpful. They had partied New Year's Eve. I was left to my wobbly seasick grayish-green self. You get the point. I was lost. Nada. Nothing. Rien. Hey, if I couldn't name the blog, how could I pen a daily column? Ended up plagiarizing a greeting card sent many years ago to a divorcing friend. Not even true to its name. Bombay gin martinis here. Not vodka.

Net net ... I am renaming the blog. Can't alter the web address. But can edit the title. Drum roll. Hark loyal readers! A contest. No prizes but the satisfaction you are more clever and creative than I. Name that blog. Choose one from below or doctor one up. Blend a few together. Add a spray of vermouth. Shake. Pour into a stemmed v-shaped glass. Plop in a few olives. Voila. You get the picture. I need a drinkin' buddy. And, a new name.

• Alice's Adventures Through the Looking Glass [couldn't help myself ... apologies Mr. Carroll]
• Twas Brillig ... So It Seems! [another nod to Lewis from this Alice in her very own Wonderland]
• Wanderlust and Lace: The Ramblings of a Sassy Adventurer
• Sweet Peace and Time Well Lived
• Magnolias, Skyscrapers and Double Yellow Lines: A Former Southern Belle Takes to the Highway
• Ramblings From the Road Less-Traveled
• Musings From A Fork in the Road
• Amuse-Bouches From A Life Well-Traveled
• Madcap Ramblings from a Sassy Wanderer

Cheers! Happy noodling ... until tomorrow.