Category Archives: Editorial

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It’s Not the Season Yet

How do I know? I lived there for years and was given liberty by the vineyard owner to not only run through his vineyard to catch the school bus, but to eat anything I wanted as long as I didn’t waste anything, like grape fights with the neighbors, which we never did.

Mr. C is gone now and so is his wife. My old friend R is head of the property now. Funny I married into a dairy farm, as were they.

You’re checking in now for something that will happen in October. I applaud you for that. I’m going to see when the harvest will happen and perhaps send some additional information.

As to waste, I did spit out the seeds. More grapes. Dee

 

He Sleeps

Julia Roberts said that in Pretty Woman.

My husband works all week, an 18 hour or longer trip from us, and we expect delays.

He sleeps, hangs out, eats my homemade breakfasts and dinners, relaxes and walks our dog Zoe. I thought he was nuts at first with the travel but he knows what I do in a hotel room. First I unpack and put everything in closet or drawers. Yes, I do. He goes and gets ice and a Dr. Pepper.

Now he packs his own bags. I packed for him for nearly 14 years (12 minutes for both our bags for a weekend jaunt) but now I don’t know “the system.” He shuts the blackout shades. I want to know when the sun comes up so only close the sheers. Also, I usually like the hotel view.

We’re about to spend an entire week together celebrating an important birthday. Let’s see how it goes.

This morning we’re past breakfast and into lunch. He and Zoe are sound asleep. I don’t know that I’ll get in a couple of “honey-do’s” that will take about ten minutes total, this weekend. Cheers and cherish your significant others, Dee

Foxes and Sockses and Boxes

Yes, I still have a few boxes and a lot of moving materials including one large folder with places for moving sheets, inventory, et al. Also one for where we’re moving with space for locations, and papers.

I’ll be ready when we move. I even have new moving tape for the prime dispenser and box cutters, scissors and permanent markers for boxes. Also labels in different colors. One is car, another home/MBR or whatever room, storage and discard. Oh, we’re not moving. I just have all the stuff. Ask me about the “Tuscan Retreat” someday. I got in trouble for that.

First I must say I am not a plant person. I killed two thyme plants and two sage plants this spring. OK, one cilantro is about to be pronounced DOA. Yes, I am a serial plant killer.

They spent forever planting my herb garden downstairs so I had to create my own in three containers indoors. The basil and some cilantro and rosemary are doing well. Yesterday I went to see the community garden and was very pleased that residents are “shopping” there. They tear off the buds, I bring small scissors and as it is such a short growing season, weekly I try to keep the plants from “bolting” too soon.

Yesterday I picked some thyme, sage, parsley and chives for an herb butter I’ll make and perhaps place in an old-fashioned ice cube tray (aluminum with the handle to get the cubes out, oh, you’re too young). The tray was a gift from my mother-in-law. Great gal.

As to socks I used to wear run-of-the-mill bargain-basement socks. Then I started taking care of Sage, the neighbors’ new pup. No way I could flood or dry him out, like the herb, a great dog and I hope he is doing well.

Two roommate gals worked sales for SmartWool and ProBar. Guess what I got for taking good care of Sage? In the beginning I was so concerned about wearing $20 SmartWool socks that I bought $8 Crocs from the sale bin at the outlet store to protect them, until I nearly was electrocuted in the dry mountain climate by touching the thermostat, thrown back into the dishwasher and I fried the control panel. It, and I were immediately fixed.

No more Crocs indoors, I’ve at least 10 pair and wear them outdoors, even winter boots, and leave them on a dog towel inside the “mud room.”

Now I need to wear compression socks, doc says, for circulation. They cost $50 per pair, so I wear SmartWool over them when in the house, after taking off my Crocs at the door. I wear simple clothing and it is amazing to me that every day I’m wearing $70 on my feet without shoes, while cooking and playing with the dog!

Oh, I’ve about ten pair of unopened SmartWool socks and two of unopened compression socks so I’ve years to go. Now I need to find out Crocs sizing as I need a couple more pair. Thanks, neighbors, and Sage. Dee

Saving

That is why I was brought here. I’ve been doing it all my life. People and animals call out for me and it seems as if it is fate. I cannot help every person or every pet. Sad people I can help, dogs and cats good.

When it comes to snakes, rodents, lizards or birds I’m out of my wheelhouse but usually have a talented neighbor with expertise in those arenas.

St. Francis sent me out here into the world, I went to a Franciscan college and now our Pope is Francis. I don’t get paid for this. Just let me do my job, my volunteer work.

I helped Alonzo off the sofa with my hand and a pat on his shoulder and got a free safety check for my car. I must be doing good in the world. You be safe, take care of your pets. They are God’s creatures, too. Dee

Knowing

Years ago my mother gave me a check for my birthday. It was impersonal but I was married to someone she’d only met a couple of times and we were mobile, as always.

My mother-in-law took me to an antique store about an hour away from their home and I found a gorgeous oak dresser with beautiful drawer pulls, like brass tassels.

The drawers do not shut easily as the piece is over 100 years old. One night my husband came home from work and saw a tiny bruise under my thumbnail.

“Did you close the drawer on your finger?” He knew. That’s why I love him so much.

***

All week I eat yogurt, salads (including Caprese with fresh mozz and tomatoes), fruit, Clif Bars et al. On the weekend I need some iron so suggest a nice, juicy dry-aged rib-eye or NY strip. He’s a meat & potatoes guy so I suggest this and what does he say? “Oh, honey, I’ve been eating steak all week.” Boo hoo. Poor guy. I feel so sorry for him eating steak all week! Not. Cheers from Dee and Zoe

Art and Life

My husband might say math and life. Let’s hope he is well today as I gave him an herbal preparation, just a vitamin supplement he can take in water.

We are doing a trip for my father’s 85th birthday. I want to learn about everywhere we will go. All the art, all the life.

There is a good sign. Old man Alonzo was sleeping on the sofa at the car place I visited yesterday for an inspection. When the owner called him he tried to get up and told me he’d need a fork lift to do so.

I nodded my head and said you only need this, sir, my hand. I helped him up. A few moments later my inspection results came in positive and I was told it was free of charge. It was a good day.

Guess where I’m getting my next oil change? You’ve got it. Dee

Sign Language

A week ago I gave our neighbor’s visiting grandkids a Braille game. Tennis balls in a muffin tin and three questions to ask their grandparents providing a Braille letter or two for all’s instruction. See, the Grands,’ our neighbors have a blind dog who tends to bark at people who stand outside our door and whisper then call out, “Zoe!” Heaven bless them, they’re about to be teens and will forget about Zoe, who they’ve called on for years.

My husband should have stayed in the hotel this weekend and not come home. He has a bad cold but can eat and drink tea and take Emergen-C. He won’t take anything else in pill form, even Wellness Formula.

After our hip-less wonder dog grew her own hips from cartilage, we started Dog Training 101. I did the work. My husband sat by the wall and criticized my behavior. Not the dog’s. It didn’t matter. The Commandant knew Zoe would obey everything I said so never even looked at her and concentrated on miscreants, the ones who misbehaved in order to behave and get a treat. Smarter than the average Bear (cartoon).

With my first great dog, Chani, I learned sign language from her trainer. She’d been abused by a deputy sheriff for a year and local kids used to throw rocks at her over their fence, then in a no-kill shelter for another but her time was up. I took her home for ten years and found a trainer while getting her good food for a change. Fear was a major factor, that I nipped in the bud right away with me, who even sat with her at the shelter in a neck brace every week. A year later at home with me she loved babies, kids, men, and men in uniform.

In a private training session John told me she was rude as she looked his purebred Schuttshunds in the eye and she’s a Beta dog. I learned sit, down, stay, come to me (the most important one) and down with my arms. No voice. She just knew the command.

Today, with my husband sleeping away a cold, 12 years with Zoe my “new” dog responds to non-verbal commands. No, it won’t keep her from my husband letting her get a chicken bone after July 4 fireworks and ruining our bed linens with vomit from that bone. It will allow him sleep.

I got to teach the kiddos Braille. even got a Braille bookmark for them for the Grands to deliver. I’ve known dog non-verbal communication for decades. I can say sit, down, come home, and get her off the bed without a word spoken. Thanks, kids, and John the trainer. Cheers! Sleep, my dear, there’s tea waiting when you’re ready. Dee

ps She’s old and kind of a mascot in our neighborhood. Heel is not in her repertoire, though I know the sign for it. The good thing is that she’s a people’s and dog’s dog. She loves everyone, even cats, save for amblers which means homeless or tourists who stand there and take a lot of pictures. She’s on a 1.5″ Martingale (for Greyhounds) handmade silk collar and 6′ braided leather leash, no stitching. It gives me control on the walk. I’ve arthritis so she can’t pull me over when she sees a squirrel. D

Coffee, Tea, Me?

Not me. I love the smell of roasted coffee and that of tobacco in the local shop as a kid with Dad. I do not partake of either.

I’ve been driven through coffee outlets many times, for one girl friend, the driver. We have only had herbal tea. Living in the UK made me believe in electric kettles. Their electrical circuits are so strong they can boil water in a minute. Ours aren’t that fast but work in mountains where water boils at 140 degrees F. Stovetop takes forever and tea is cold. Don’t even ask me about hard-boiled eggs, that took a summer to perfect.

Then, what does one add to that water? I bought a special mix for my husband that I love and he doesn’t like so we went to Teavana and bought him a tea he likes and a carafe in which to make it. I know I have too much kitchen stuff! Think of tea as the next star*****.

He has a cold and needs hot tea so I’ll go and brew some for him. Yes, I’m staying away from him lest I’ll get the bug. Cheers! Dee

ps the two blends we have are the Beach Bellini, my favorite, and my husband’s is the Raspberry Limeade.

Soft vs. Hard

I realized that years ago when I married my husband, a dairyman’s son and physics grad turned software engineer/consultant. I had no idea at the time that techies often meet and marry kindergarten teachers. Well, I was his, albeit a softie consultant for non-profit organizations.

After 15 years together, I now give him advice on consulting, also have time to pay the bills, write and cook.

I chose the colors and the flowers yesterday. Now, I don’t know much about flowers or design but did good and the florist did better. Thistles are hard, so is yarrow. The yellow alstroemeria softened up the mix and made it work. Just like my husband and me. We’re both smart (he’s a genius) but in different ways.

We can solve a problem and come to the same conclusion using vastly different brain processes. I’m a leftie, he’s a rightie, hands not politics. We each use a different side of the brain. Harmony with dissonance.

As to dog Zoe, she has a pack brain. She makes sure we, her pack, are with her at all times. Food, walk, pack. I’d love to come back as her as what a charmed life that would be. Cheers and enjoy the weekend! Dee

Yellow and Blue

There was a dear neighbor I’d known for years and even shared care-taking responsibilities for rescuing a lost cat before we got George adopted. Our old dogs were buddies.

She got mad at me for something I didn’t do, and a couple of years went by. One morning her dog dragged her to my door. I petted the dog and my neighbor said hello. Her dog died the next day.

I received a note at my door. Immediately I went out and bought a vase with yellow and blue flowers and delivered it to her. She invited me in and we became friends again.

A month later my old dog passed. I left her a note. She responded with a new vase and different yellow and blue flowers. We’ve lost touch over the years but I like this story for many reasons.

We were, were not, then were friends. We loved our dogs and they loved both of us. Her dog was persistent to get us back together before she died. A month later my dog knew she was dying (died the next day) so brought a huge teddy bear to the Park, a new thing as for ten years she’d always brought a ball to chase, and said goodbye to all the dogs, their owners and all the kids in the tot lot who always called out her name and ran to see her.

Blue and yellow do not signify death to me. They mean life, love, friendship. My husband is en route home and now I buy him flowers every week. He got them for me for 15 years so now everyone laughs at me for buying them for him. I guess most wives don’t do that. Less time meticulously buying flowers for me means more precious time with us. Plus, the gorgeous flower place where I go is half-off on Fridays!

Today I bought yarrow (yellow), blue/purple thistles, a reminder of our time in Scotland and its’ national flower, and yellow alstroemeria. Yellow and blue. Life, love and friendship. Cheers and have a great weekend! We plan to chill out and make a couple of dry aged NY strip steaks. Dee