Not many people know three-time NASCAR champion and NASCAR team owner Tony Stewart is my fiancé. My family doesn’t know it. My friends don’t know it. Even Tony Stewart himself doesn’t know it. Or does he? I’m sure you would like me to explain. Well, like all good stories, this one begins with an ex-boyfriend. To protect his identity I shall call him, Mr. Butthead. Well, Mr. Butthead liked NASCAR. I liked Mr. Butthead. Because of this, I, too watched NASCAR with Mr. Butthead. Thankfully, one day God took Mr. Butthead out of my life and kept NASCAR in it. With Mr. Butthead out of the picture, Mr. Stewart took the opportunity to drive right on in.

Tony Stewart first drove into my life in July of 2005. That summer my friends and I went to the Pepsi 400 at the Daytona International Speedway. My family and friends used to spend our summers close by in Ponce Inlet. A tradition started where the guys would take the kids to the July race to break up the time at the beach. However, in 2005, my friends asked if I would like to go. I had flown by and driven by the race track hundreds of times throughout the years. I was curious what the inside looked like. So, I decided to go to the race. Unfortunately, it rained for hours before the race began. We watched most of the race. At 1am we decided to leave. The race was still going on. We ladies had a tradition of walking the beach at 6am. We weren’t going to let a NASCAR race get in the way of that.

The next day after walking the beach I read the local paper on the balcony. On the front page was a picture of Tony Stewart climbing the fence after he won the race. I laughed. We spent hours sitting in the stands the night before and we missed the best part of the race. I suspect now, Tony climbed the fence to find us in the stands. Obviously, he climbed down when he couldn’t find us. After reading the paper, I decided to head to the store and get donuts for everyone. Ironically, there was an interview with Tony Stewart on the radio. He was talking about sharks in the ocean. I chuckled at the coincidence of hearing this interview right after reading about him in the paper. But, was it a coincidence?

A few months later I was on a short layover. Against my better judgement, I felt compelled to turned the tv on. The final NASCAR race of the season was on. And low and behold, Tony Stewart won the Championship. Another coincidence? Everyone knows if you are trying win someone over….win a Championship. And make sure the person is watching when you do it.

The next day on the plane, my friend David asked me if I would like to look at any of the newspapers he had collected from the passengers. I said I would. I looked at the paper and staring back at me was Tony Stewart. “Very interesting”, I thought. By now Mr. Stewart was becoming a fixture in my life. Whether I wanted him too or not. Obviously, we were now in a very convoluted stalking relationship. I jokingly told David I was going to read about my “boyfriend” Tony Stewart. Later when I brought the paper back to recycle it, I smiled and asked David if he would like to read about my “fiancé”, Tony Stewart. David laughed. He jokingly questioned me about Tony going from boyfriend to fiancé. I smiled and told him Mr. Stewart won the Championship ….so, I upgraded him.

After the Championship race, Tony’s stalking gained momentum. One week after the race, I was at the Seattle airport walking by a gift shop. There was Tony Stewart on the magazine stand. I couldn’t miss him. He was staring right at me. He was staring right at me again in the Atlanta airport as I walked by another shop. Of course, he was on a different magazine stalking me. He was crafty like that. His persistence made me chuckle. Suspiciously, many times when I would turn on the tv, I would see Tony in a commercial. Funny, how he knew I would be watching tv. He was also there in my Home Depot store. Yes, I smiled at the shopping carts that looked like his race car. Mr. Stewart correctly calculated I like a man with a great sense of humor. And I’m almost positive he used some of his Championship money to pay off in-flight scheduling. Amazingly, I was getting more Indianapolis layovers. For your information, Tony is from Indiana. You can only image my shock, when years later I found out the exit I took to get gas between Cincinnati and St. Louis, was the exit you take to go to Columbus, Indiana. Coincidentally, Columbus is Tony’s hometown. How he programmed my car to exit there, still baffles me. I now believe, without a doubt, the people at the clean gas station where I got my gas, were part of his stalking scheme. They made sure the restrooms were very clean each time I used them. Thus, increasing the odds I’d return on my next trip. This, I know now, was increasing Mr. Stewart’s odds of “running” into me. And the kind, older gentleman that worked the Wendy’s drive-thru?……I suspect he was in on the scheme, too. Luring me closer to Mr. Stewart hometown with a sweet, “Come back and see us REAL soon!”. That was extremely slick. Kudos to you, fiancé Stewart.

Through the years Tony has continued to stalk me. It never scares me. It actually humors me. When I see him I smile and laugh. In my head I’d think, “Hello fiancé Tony. I see you stalking me again”. And then I quietly move on with my day. Lately, fiancé Tony has upped his game again. The past few weeks I have been channel surfing to catch any sports on tv. Like other sports, there have been reruns of NASCAR races. Several times when I clicked on the races….there was Tony Stewart….AGAIN! Tony, sneakily timed passing a car on the race track, just as I turned the channel on. Clever guy. A few times when I turned the races on, Tony was being interviewed. Yes, he was talking to the reporter. But, as I was watching, I sensed he positioned himself right in front of the camera to talk right to me. A couple weeks ago, I went downstairs to watch a movie. I turned on the tv. I was perplexed as to why there was no picture. However, there was sound. Quizzically, I listened. That sound was Tony Stewart’s voice! I laughed at his stalking capabilities. He was a champion stalker. Tonight I went on Pinterest to amuse myself. There amongst all the recipes and inspirational quotes were several pictures of Mr. Stewart. He was once again staring right back at me with a “gotcha” look on his face. Stealth- like, Mr. Stewart anticipates my moves before I do. Coincidentally, I had Fox Sports1 on in the background. When I looked up from my iPad the announcer said it was Tony Stewart’s 49th birthday today. How convenient I was here to hear that? Too, convenient if you ask me.

No, my family doesn’t know that Tony Stewart is my fiancé. My friends don’t know Tony Stewart is my fiancé. (Well, except for my friend David, of course.) However, I think after all these years, Tony Stewart DOES know he is my fiancé. And he enjoys finding a plethora of ways to stalk me. The truth be told, I sort of enjoy it, too.

One summer night my friends and I went to the Riverbend Music Center in Cincinnati. The music pavilion sits along the banks of the Ohio River. We went to see James Taylor perform. James Taylor is one of my favorite performers. At intermission my friends and I were talking about how wonderful the show was. I said to my friends I wished James Taylor was my neighbor. They laughed. I said it would be incredible to have James Taylor living next door. He would play his guitar and sing outside on his patio while I was outside on my patio. He’d ask if I had any requests and I would ask him to play “Carolina In My Mind” and “Your Smiling Face”. Then I’d let him sing whatever he wanted. After all, he is James Taylor. This is how James Taylor became my 1st neighbor in MY neighborhood. The neighborhood where I pick MY neighbors.

The second person in my neighborhood will be Garth Brooks. He will be my neighbor on my other side. He will play his guitar and sing when James defers to him. Garth will roam all around his yard singing like he does when he is on stage. When he sings “Friends in Low Places” James and I will laugh, because we know we are 2 of those friends. His wife, Trisha Yearwood, will come out with a big plate of southern biscuits for us. Then she will sing a few songs with Garth. Before the night ends I’ll request Trisha to sing ” I Remember You”. We will all shed a few tears. Then bid each other goodnight until tomorrow.

Comedian Jeff Foxworthy will live across the street from me. We will both go get our mail the same time each day. Jeff will shout across the street, “You might be a redneck if…” jokes. I’ll crack up each time he delivers a new ending. When we have our neighborhood picnic I’ll insist Jeff tell the story about the 1st time he went for a colonoscopy. I’ll double over in laughter like I’m hearing it for the first time. It’s THAT funny!

Comedian Jim Gaffigan will also live across the street. I’m sure our mail will get mixed up often because our last names are so similar. Jim has 5 kids. So I am sure he will send one of them over with my mail. I’ll send his kids back home with Hot Pockets. Jim is known for his Hot Pockets comedy bit. He’ll think I’m very funny. Plus, he has 5 kids to feed, so I am sure he will be grateful.

Reba McEntire will also live in my neighborhood. We most definitely will watch reruns of her “Reba” tv show. We will laugh out loud at every episode, even though we have seen them multiple times. Afterwards we will head on over to Dolly Parton’s house. In a perfect world I imagine Reba and Dolly would be neighbors. Thus, they will be MY neighbors, too. Dolly will tell us stories about growing up in the hollers of Tennessee. Then she will sing the song that she wrote about the story. She will also quote a Bible verse to tie everything together and to make us grateful that God put Dolly in our world. Mostly, the three of us will cackle so much that Dolly’s husband Carl will come in to see what is going on. Yes, I will be one of the few that will know what Carl looks like. The whole neighborhood will. But, we will never take a picture of him. We will honor his privacy to the utmost. We all will have a sweet spot for Carl. Dolly will eventually write a song about it.

Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson will be in my neighborhood, too. After all, Tom Hanks did portray Fred Rogers in, “A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood “. Every time I go bye their house I will yell, “Wilson!”, like Tom did in his movie “Castaway “. But, only when I need Rita. Otherwise, I’m sure she would find it annoying. Rita will sing The National Anthem at all our Memorial Day, 4th of July, and Labor Day BBQ’s. Because, even though I have a lot of singers in my neighborhood, none can sing the National Anthem A cappella as beautifully as Rita can.

Every Sunday evening Tom, Rita and I will carry our lawn chairs over to Michael Buble’s house. We will sit in the front yard. Tom will ring the doorbell and Michael will come out to put on a show for us. Eventually, the other neighbors will come and sit in his yard, too. The Sunday show will get us all ready for the week ahead. I’ll be the last one to leave the yard because Michael Buble’ is my favorite singer. He also makes me giddy in the head and weak in the knees. It’s hard to carry your lawn chair home when you are weak in the knees and giddy in the head.

I will drive around my neighborhood with James Corden. We will have our own carpool karaoke. Every time James comes up with a new crosswalk theater, I will ask him what he needs me to do to pull it off. When Ron passed away and I couldn’t sleep, James Corden was there for me. He made me laugh when I didn’t think it was possible. Ron and I would watch James Corden’s Late Late Show because he made us so happy. We knew when one of us said, “James”, we were referring to James Corden. James is my life saver. I will always take extra time picking the perfect Christmas gift for James. Even though it will never be enough to convey my gratitude for his friendship.

Every neighborhood needs neighbors that can assist you when you need help. That is why all the gentlemen from “Barnwood Builders” will live in my neighborhood. Mark Bowe, Johnny Jett, Sherman Thompson, Tim Rose, Graham Ferguson and Alex Webb will be my go to guys. They can take down log homes and rebuild them. Surely they will be able to help me make some window boxes. These guys are quick with puns that make you laugh, no matter how awful the pun is. They are down- to -Earth men. They respect the past. But, are always looking towards the future. They were there for me the 1st night Ron was gone. Their friendly exchanges towards each other calmed my mind when my mind wouldn’t stop racing. They know how to find the beauty in something that seems lost. They bring it back to life one step at a time. This is what they did for me. They were there for me every time I looked for them. They stayed with me all through the night speaking kindness and hope. They support each other and they supported me. Ron used to say he would have loved to have lived in pioneer times. I believe he sent these men, that covet the pioneer days, to take care of me, too.

How would I get through self-quarantine without Jimmy Fallon and his family? Each night I wait for Jimmy to wave to me. I can’t wait to see what room in his house we are going to hang out in. Of course, Jimmy and his family will live in MY neighborhood. Jimmy’s wife, Nancy, will drive her VW Bug Van around town. I will drive my 1950’s Woody Wagon. We will bring smiles to the whole neighborhood. And when I need to clear my mind or feel like a kid again, I will head over to the Fallon’s and take a ride down their slide inside their house. No matter how I feel at the top of the slide, by the time I get to the bottom, all will be well in my world.

Of course, my family and you my fabulous friends, will all live in MY neighborhood. How else could everyday….be a beautiful day in MY neighborhood…without you? Well, it couldn’t. I know Dolly will have the perfect Bible verse to let you all know how I feel. Just let me put my lawn chair away. Grab one of Trisha’s biscuits. Then I’ll run over to Dolly’s to get that Bible verse. See you around OUR neighborhood soon, my fabulous neighbors!!

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. So, I thought I’d tell you all some fun stories about my Mom.

The 1st time I met my mother was the day before Thanksgiving. She gave birth to me that Wednesday. As she held me in her arms, she lovingly told me she was my Mom. Years later I found out her name is Mary Ann. I decided to continue to call her Mom though ….It fit her. The day I was born, I’m positive my Mom laughed and thanked me for getting her out of cooking Thanksgiving dinner. One thing you should know about my Mom….My Mom HATES to cook!

One summer when we were at the beach my Mom and her friend Mary were talking about winning the lottery. Mary said when she won the lottery she was going to build a house with a big kitchen. My Mom said when she won the lottery she was going to build a house without a kitchen. For years my Mom would joke our upper kitchen oven was for her friend Mary. The lower oven was for her friend Kate. My Mom would laugh and say her job was to open up the jar of applesauce. However, when I bought my house in Cincinnati and had to fly Thanksgiving morning, my Mom came to visit and cooked dinner so I wouldn’t be alone for the holiday. And even though she is known for her 3-mile island meatloaf she once made in the microwave, her chocolate chip cookies are the best in the land. So much so, that I refuse to bake chocolate chip cookies because they never turn out perfect like hers. She is also famous for her grasshopper pie. Not because it is the best in the land. But, because she chipped the sink opening the bottle of creme de mint. She forgot to put the top on the blender after she put the cookies in and turned it on. Cookies shot to the ceiling and all over the dog. Then after bringing the pie to our friend’s house, she forgot to refrigerate it. So, they poured the pie into glasses and drank it. My Mom always laughs when she tells this story. One of my Mom’s greatest gifts is that she can laugh at herself. She has taught us not to take ourselves or life too seriously. And she taught us, if you hate to cook, marry someone who does. Or surround yourself with friends that you can designate one of your ovens to.

My Mom grew up in Jersey City, NJ. After she married my Dad and had my oldest sister Maureen, they moved to Salt Lake City. My mom learned a few things after they moved to Utah. For instance, my Mom learned about dandelions. She thought they were a beautiful wild flower grown out West….until she found out they are weeds. This city gal initially didn’t trust the doctors out West, either. When my sister Patti was born, my Mom flew back East to have her. She was certain the doctors back East were more knowledgeable and caring. However, her views about the doctors out West changed soon after they moved to Montana. When we were living in Montana my brother Sean got really sick. Our doctor came to our house. My brother needed to go to the hospital. My Mom had my two sisters at home. Our doctor told my mom to find someone to take care of my sisters. He would drive my brother to the hospital and meet her there shortly. My mom has never forgotten our doctor’s kindness. She uses this story to tell how wonderful the people out West are. My Mom discovered life-long friends in Butte. We haven’t lived in Montana for years. But, this past week my Mom was calling out to Butte to check on her friends. If you are a friend of my Mom’s, you are a friend for life.

A funny story about Montana that my Mom likes to tell on herself, is when she got a parking ticket in town. My Mom didn’t think she was in the wrong, and therefore, she was determined not to pay the ticket. So off to court she went. It was her time to appear before the judge. The judge asked my Mom to explain her side of the story. My Mom walked up to the chalkboard in the courtroom. She showed the judge where her car was parked on the street. She showed the judge where the other cars were parked. As she was doing so she said, “You see your Honor”. The people in the courtroom laughed. She thought they were laughing at her Jersey accent. But she was determined to make her point. So she proceeded again and said, “You see your Honor”. And the people in court laughed more. After my Mom said her peace, the judge spoke. He told my Mom it was obvious she was not from Butte. He said, “Mrs. Gaffney, I am a blind judge. I couldn’t see anything you were pointing out on the chalkboard.” He then told her she gave him the best laugh of the day. So, he excused her ticket. My Mom always laughs and says this is the best part of the story!

My Mom was determined when it came to us kids, too. Once my brother was put in the wrong math level in high school. The teachers were not correcting this matter quickly enough for her. The teachers wanted to wait until the semester was over before they put my brother in the higher math class. My Mom was pregnant with my youngest brother at the time. My Mom went up to the high school. She told the priest in no uncertain terms that he did not want to deal with a 40- year old pregnant woman. She told him they had computers in the school and he better use it to fix this problem. She spoke in a tone that put fear of God in the priest. My brother was put in the proper class that afternoon. My Mom knew being pregnant would work to her advantage. My Mom is a VERY smart woman!

My Mom has always loved to have fun. Especially with us kids. Once when we were young we told Mom about the Chinese fire drill. My mom had no idea what it was. We explained to her that she had to stop the car at the stop sign. We would all jump out of the car. We would run a circle around the car. Then we would run back into the car. Mom laughed. She let us do this all the way home. She also let us do this drill anytime we asked her after that. The car was filled with laughter each time. Our friends thought our Mom was the best. Because she was.

We all had a great laugh when my Mom turned 40. Our friend’s in the neighborhood always threw big parties when one of them turned 40. A party with a theme. My Mom’s theme was “you are no longer a spring chicken, you’re an old turkey”. The neighbors got a live chicken and turkey to put in the yard. It was hysterical. Not as hysterical as seeing my Mom going into the neighbor’s yards trying to catch them after they got loose. It was quite a show. Fortunately, one of the neighbors, Mrs. Roberts, grew up on a farm. Mrs. Roberts caught the turkey and chicken with a wire coat hanger. The chicken and turkey lived in our garage for a few days afterwards. It’s the closest any of us have come to living on a farm.

My Mom has always filled our lives with love and laughter. She has taught us the importance of family and friends. And how through kindness and compassion your friends become family. She has taught us not to be afraid to fight for what you know is right. Mostly she has taught us to find the humor in any situation. My Mom has provided us with the best memories through out the years. The best part for us is that she is still creating those amazing memories.

When I win the Power Ball I know the 1st- two things I am going to buy. I am going to buy a 1950’s Woody Wagon with the surfboard on top. I am mainly going to drive it to the grocery store to make myself and the other shoppers smile. The other thing I am going to buy are two Clydesdale horses. Just to take pictures of them…and with them. They are one of my favorite types of horses. The other being Kentucky Derby Thoroughbreds. Although I knew a little about Clydesdales, I learned a wee bit more about them at their Warm Springs Ranch in Booneville, Missouri. That is where the Clydesdales are born and bred for Anheuser-Busch. It’s a very impressive facility. The handlers explained a lot about the horses and the operation. However, the one thing the didn’t have to teach us, that I’ve known for years,……Clydesdales can pull a beer wagon!

I worked for the Cardinals in high school and in college. The Clydesdales made appearances at the ball park all the time. They were mesmerizing to watch as they came through the wagon gates pulling the red beer wagon. They stole my heart every time I saw them. They not only made me happy, they made everyone happy. I started to think then about putting Clydesdales on my “when I win the lottery” list. I’ve also seen the Clydesdales at Grant’s Farm and at the Brewery. The handlers always bring the horses out for everyone to see and to take pictures with. There is nothing better than getting a picture with a Clydesdale. Okay, I lied. There is one thing better. That’s seeing the Clydesdales in the green pastures at Warm Springs Ranch. A perfect setting for majestic horses. That’s when I knew, without a doubt, I’ll be spending some of my Power Ball winnings on Clydesdales. Watching the Clydesdales in their pastures was breathtaking. My favorite thing was seeing the horses come to the fences to eat their grass and check things out. I swear they knew people wanted to take their pictures. So, of course, I did.

As I mentioned, my other favorite horses are Kentucky Derby Thoroughbreds . Not all Thoroughbreds….just Kentucky Derby Thoroughbreds . I really don’t bother with any other Thoroughbreds the rest of the year. Kentucky Derby Thoroughbred horses have spunky attitudes. They know they are blazing fast. They also know they have the best names when it comes to horses. Names like, Spend a Buck, Go For Gin, and even Jet Pilot. Of course, I’m partial to Jet Pilot. This past weekend would have been the traditional date for the Kentucky Derby. Interestingly, my family are Kentucky Derby people. My family threw big Derby parties for years. However, I’m not sure we would have been Kentucky Derby people if it wasn’t for our neighbors in Cincinnati.

When I was young, our neighbors, the Sea’s, lived across the street from us in Cincinnati. They were great neighbors. To this day, whenever I smell cocoa butter, I think of Mrs. Sea. Mrs. Sea always lathered on cocoa butter to get the perfect summer tan. Mrs. Sea also had a gentle, southern Kentucky accent that went beautifully with her tan. She was from Louisville. This might comes as a shock, but, she grew up with Derby parties. I believe it doesn’t matter where you are currently living…. if you grew up in Louisville, …..you are obligated to have a Derby party. And the Sea’s didn’t disappoint their fellow Kentuckians.

I remember one day at the end of April, the Sea’s had bales of hay stacked on their driveway. It was an abundance of hay. When they opened their garage there was more hay inside. They had turned their garage into Churchill Downs! They even had booths to place your bets. I was young, so I wasn’t sure what a Derby party was all about. But, I knew it was going to be spectacular. Thankfully, my parents were invited to the party.

We must have asked our parents a lot of questions about the party and horse racing. So one summer day, our parents took us to the Keenland Race Track in Lexington. We were going to go see what Thoroughbred horse racing and horse betting was all about. I’m sure my parents thought it was going to be fun AND educational. Basically, a two-fer. My Dad gave us kids each money for the day to bet with. He taught us about betting odds. Ah,…math. He had us figure out how much money we wanted to bet on a horse or horses. Ah,….finances. My Dad would place the bet for us. Ah,….legalities. Unfortunately, I was too young to really understand odds. My system was to bet on the horse who’s name spoke to me. If I liked the color of the Jockey’s silks, that too, could come into play. Ah,….the unproven theory. I still use this betting system. A week out from the Derby I pick my winning horse based solely on it’s name. Never on it’s odds of winning.

This past weekend I watched the Arkansas Derby instead of the Kentucky Derby. Yes, the horses were Thoroughbreds . However, they weren’t Kentucky Derby Thoroughbreds. I hardly paid attention to the Arkansas Thoroughbreds. Instead, I caught myself thinking about all the Kentucky Derby parties my parents had throughout the years. Yes, they eventually took over the…reigns….of hosting Derby parties. My parents didn’t have bales of hay, but, they had plenty of mint juleps and Kentucky bourbon. I, also, thought about my horse picking system and how I taught it to Ron. He would pick a horse whose name spoke to him. And a horse with good odds. He suspected my betting system was flawed. This was based on the fact the last time my horse won was in 1978. But, it was a Triple Crown Winner! My mind eventually wondered to this September. The Kentucky Derby will be on the 5th. That Saturday I’ll watch my second favorite horses, the Kentucky Derby Thoroughbreds. Afterwards, I’m sure I’ll take a ride in my 1950’s Woody Wagon with the surfboard on top. I’ll head out to see my two Clydesdale horses. I’ll tell them how the Kentucky Derby Thoroughbred I picked …based on the name that spoke to me….won the Kentucky Derby.