Category Archives: Family

Being ‘haved

When my sister and I went to tell Mom on our little brother he’d run to see her first and say “Mommy, I’m not being haved.” And she’d tell him what a sweet young boy he was and we’d get extra chores.

His other infamous remark was “Who turned on the dark?” Leave it to him to see everything from another point of view. I do so as well and love my little brother even though he’s fifty now.

This little guest dog has become a diva. She got me up at 6 a.m. jumping on me, grabbing my arm and licking my hair, and we went out five times before 1 p.m. then she pooped all over my bedroom carpet. She wants to play with me, not Zoe our old dog and makes strange sounds.

After noon I told her she might be one Queen Bee, but I am Queen Dee, owner of this land and the power that is. It was a one-sided conversation mostly of “NO” but she hasn’t bothered me since and is sleeping on my pillows. All is well in the land at the moment.

I’m making myself steak and mashed potatoes and sauteed kale and garlic (dinosaur kale or cavolo nero in Italian) for dinner. She puts her nose on my plate. That’s something Queen Dee has not allowed and will not allow, ever.

This demure, beautiful, peaceful, courteous creature has become a monster and if I need to get out a crate, I will crate her. All Hail Queen Dee! After I feed them and take them out it’s my turn to eat. When one has an old herder one must stick to routine….. Dee

Quiet Time

There are some times when you look at your life, enjoy memories from view, taste or even photos of relatives and friends.

As we always go to Nanny’s on Thanksgiving after dinner all the other guys were watching A&M vs. UT. They’re all A$M (intended) so it’s a big deal.

I was looking for my husband and he was in the formal living room alone, lying on the floor because his back was bothering him. I offered to help, nothing but OTC pain reliever, so I laid down on the sofa and held his hand. The light was waning outside and we had no lights except the Christmas tree. Next thing you know, the five Grands (six if you include me, adopted into the clan) all laid on the floor like J and told stories, some that were sad and others that made the laughter almost make you want to fall onto the floor.

Like the time J’s cousins pretended to be a girl in grade school coming by to ask J to marry her. He agreed to be put down the laundry chute instead of answering the door. Of course it was a cousin that was ringing the door bell. I laughed ’til crying.

At one point a child ran by and his mom was lying on the floor. Normally she would have gotten up. Child said “he disrespected me!!!” She laid there and said “work it out.” The cousin disrespecting him was three times his size. They all worked it out and get along.

We have so many stories. I do. Don’t talk about the laundry chute. My husband may be a few years younger but is bigger and taller and they’re cousins and good friends. Here’s to family! Dee

Here Comes The Sun

As the Beatles sang, I never imagined my life as it is. When my husband is home and we’ve our old dog Zoe I lift her up to the bed at night, all 32 lbs. of her. If the shades are up when the sun starts coming up (in summer before 5 a.m.) she jumps down and becomes UBD.

UBD is under bed dog. She comes to my side so I can’t get away as I am the morning person and food wench, and she crawls underneath our sleigh bed to get her beauty sleep. I don’t know anything that 20 hours of sleep per day wouldn’t cure as she’s gorgeous. In “people years” she’s got nearly 20 on me.

This morning at 6:45 a.m. I felt a paw holding onto my arm. Lo and behold, it’s guest dog L. Zoe was sound asleep on my husband’s pillow. Yes, shades were down halfway so they can see and I protect the art. “Hey, Aunt Dee, get up, I want to go out and have my dinner!”

I got up and took them for a nice walk and fed them then they played and went to separate rooms to soak up the sun (they heard you, Sheryl Crow). Zoe asleep, no sun. Zoe awake, all sun until noon when there is no direct source, only reflected.

Husband will be back this weekend, so will L’s mom to take her home. I was wondering how we would all sleep together but there’s no need. They return on the same day. How’s that for planning?

Our guest, I looked up the breed, is a mix of Borzoi and Whippet. When Zoe and I are alone on a walk everyone pets her and says this Aussie mutt is cute. When we’re with L everyone says “She’s beautiful, what kind of dog is she?” I’m expecting a rush for purebred dogs like L in our neighborhood shortly. Perhaps I’ll stop saying exactly what breed she is.

Now, if a magic elf (not the funny, enigmatic Will Ferrell) could somehow do our taxes all would be well. Cheers from Dee, Z and L

You say Pot-ay-to

I say po-tah-to. Let’s call the whole thing off.

At 19 I got a college apartment with five other gals. First day I made dinner and said I had to be on a corner because I’m leftie and don’t want to elbow anyone in the ribs. They were ALL lefties. We got our own softball team named Lefties, Inc. and made it to the finals because nobody showed up for our games! Of course I was pitcher.

That first night we found out no-one knew how to cook, anything. I think cereal and milk might have been a challenge. I said they had to learn breakfast, eat lunch at the college cafeteria and I’d make dinner every night.

Caveats were that I would provide a list and they would shop. I would prep and cook, they would set the table, clean up and do dishes.

Then one day three other gals came to live with us (one bulimic, so enlightening to see all the food in our frig going down the toilet) and two guys from upstairs who came over to play Uno most evenings started staying for dinner so I was cooking for eleven with a budget for six. That was probably $60 per week. With the others we stretched it to $120.

I asked the gals to get me a 50# bag of potatoes. They came back and said cans were on sale for $.20 apiece. The list was going to pieces. I decided to drive the cart and the list and they could grab things off the shelves as I called them out. It worked.

We ate simple food. Mom’s pasta with a bit of beef, noodles and tomato sauce, chicken thighs with caramelized onions, occasionally a dessert. I never washed a dish, spoon, pot or pan in that place. They were happy. I was happy.

My mother was not happy because mise en place (everything in its’ place before cooking) allowed me to cook but use every dish in her place while visiting, then I had to clean everything!

Hey, Guy Fieri, when I was 19 I could have excelled at Grocery Games! Now I go daily to a high-end grocery and choose what I want as to what is fresh. Fruits, shishito peppers, lemongrass. And my butchers are beyond compare. Don’t ask, Guy. I’m too old to run with a cart.  And my old dog would have to be outside the window asking for me to be eliminated so I could take her home to Napping Dog Press. Cheers! Dee

True Grit

Yes, Kim Darby, John Wayne and Glen Campbell. I haven’t researched it but it must have been the breakout film for one of my favorite actors, Robert Duvall. He can also carry a tune.

It was my first time on a plane and first trip to The Big Apple. We went to see True Grit the day it opened on a big screen in Radio City Music Hall. During intermission my sister and I sat in the men’s room “lounge” until I figured out there were all men in there. We were waiting for Dad. Oops.

I saw a bit of it today and remember that trip as if it was yesterday. The big screen was amazing, as are flat screens and we don’t have a big one but do have HD, today.

Two rooms. Overlooking other rooms in a cheap Howard Johnsons near Times Square that was crime central. Three single beds for me, my younger sister, age 8, and brother, age three. He ordered hot chocolate on the plane and took a big gulp. Yes, it was hot so he spewed it all over the place.

It gets better. We lived in a village of 400 people, perhaps 1,000 when college was in session. In NYC my mother was visibly pregnant with my youngest sister. She was taking us on our first subway to see the sights while Dad was working. My brother asked about the “chocolate people” on the subway. Actually, they laughed and gave my mother a seat. We had never seen a Black person and I knew at age ten not to ask. My brother did.

True Grit. Radio City Music Hall. This was 1969. Dad bought my brother, age three, a Brooks Brothers navy suit. We walked by St. Patrick’s Cathedral and my brother told me everyone was looking at him. There were two lesbians 20′ in front of us kissing passionately.

I asked if anyone was staring at them. “No,” he said. “Then why would they be staring at you?”

It was an adventure in all senses, first plane, and True Grit was not age-appropriate for ages ten, eight and three but this trip is remembered and loved. With cheers from Dee.

ps Oh, we’ll have a neighbor joining me and Zoe tonight for a week or so and I’ll need to set up for Zoe’s little “sister,” as they do act like sisters. New dual leash to set up and we tested it last weekend and made modifications in terms of adding binder clips to keep Zoe from taking two thirds of the leash. Our guest has been here several times before so I’ve got the food routine down, if the new dual leash works and I tweak it according to their needs (so they serpentine on a swivel ahead of me, with each other rather than going around me) all will be well. D

pps I usually awaken to a song, in my head. Today it was The Wichita Lineman, thank you Glen Campbell and thanks for True Grit.

Life

I’m thinking of a salty, sweet, hot and tangy Udon noodle salad with shrimp. Perhaps for lunch.

The rest of this week will be spent on insurance and taxes. Next week is our future.

As I’ve trouble now and then with my tummy I went vegan years ago and found out what I was allergic to as I re-introduced ingredients. Now, as mostly a meat-eterian (plus starch and veg) I need protein.

Yes, I do always have veg and fruit available, today it’s Jonagold apples, an almost ripe pineapple and red seedless grapes.

Yesterday I cooked up some scallops. Today I’ll cook and place a few shrimp atop my noodle salad with grated carrot and scallions.

As a good cook one must cook for flavor and health. I can’t cook fish when my husband is home and I love fish! He’s so allergic that he can’t handle the smell unless I grill it or buy it cooked. I just can’t eat beef and potatoes all the time.

I’ll eat my fish, but try to keep healthy snacks out on the counter so he goes for them first before raiding cheese and crackers. I’m the wife, the food wench (that’s what he calls me for our old dog Zoe).

I make dinner for all of us. When he starts eating cheese and crackers 15 minutes before dinner my heart sighs. “Do you need cheese before you get your steak with chimichurri?” Much to do today and the rest of the week and we’re taking on a guest tomorrow, for a week. A lot of work ahead so Cheers from Dee

 

Doors

I always see doors, even windows, as opportunities. Herding dogs see them as a hindrance.

Our old Zoe loves it when my husband is home on weekends. She likes to sleep with whoever is in bed, and the highest spot with the best view possible. If my husband has a blanket over the comforter, that is the highest spot. It’s only 5 a.m. for him right now. We’ve been out and Zoe’s been fed and I’ve “Otis’ed” her back up there, where she is content for now.

For the few years we’ve lived here the bedroom door has squeaked but I could leave it open a few inches to minimize noise from the kitchen and living room and allow Zoe to nose her way out to check on the rest of her pack, that would be me.

About a year ago he stopped at a hardware store determined to allow the door to flow freely and no longer squeak. It worked but the inches are no longer allowed as it opens all the way and I can’t let him sleep, so I have to close it all the way and Zoe hates that! She wants her pack to be together.

I’m sure they’re both sleeping soundly. It’s 7:30 now and I’ve things to do and will try to keep quiet. She misses him so I’ll give them some sleeping/bonding time together. Cheers, happy Saturday, Dee

uncategorized

That’s what I’m put in at now every day on your new system, nearing 100,000 posts. Think about it before you declare me “uncategorized” before I get to make a choice as a top contributor. I deserve to choose.

Google Chrome is leaving us

Me and dear dog Zoe

Her best friends have left again

Please don’t say it’s so

Something must go well, this world

A new computer may help pave the way

COBRA may give this girl

A license to live another day.

And Uncategorized WordPress may do so as well. Cheers from Dee and Zoe

 

Missing

I miss my husband who has been away from home for nearly two weeks. Next time he’ll be going overseas for nearly a month. Yes, we have to pre-pay all flights and hotels so he can place himself in coach for 20 hours. He is a very tall guy so that will be a burden in itself.

Of course I miss him but understand his obligations. Our old dog Zoe does not. We’ve a small place with a great view and our dog has no hips. Welcome to Otis. Yes, I am the elevator operator to the bed. She will stay with anyone on the bed. She’s a herder. If only I am here, she is by my side. Please don’t tell anyone she was afraid of the baby goats. I knew they needed strong female names so named them Eleanor (Roosevelt) and Rosa (Parks). It seemed to fit their personalities, not their color.

If I crawl out of bed and come into our office to write she’s by me in two minutes. If I go into the kitchen to check the time she’s there. Then I have to “Otis” all over again.

What happens is what happens. My husband worked for this company for nearly a year away from us and Zoe got used to it. She’ll get used to it again and hopefully not herd me everywhere. It’s good to be loved and protected but I check the locks and do not need “snoopervision” every moment of every day.

Zoe’s favorite kids stopped by in their pajamas to see her this morning before dressing for a funeral for their great grandmother. Zoe did tricks for them until grandpa showed up with breakfast. The love is mutual and these are two great kids. If Zoe’s still alive when they are in their teens, she will miss them when they lose interest. She knows when they’re here and looks out for them. With love of family and friends, Dee

Knock Knock

Who’s there?

It is young visitors A and C who come to call on Zoe, our old dog. They had her do a couple of tricks then grandpa showed up with breakfast. They disappeared next door in their PJ’s. So cute. I got hugs. So did Zoe.

Zoe’s friends are in from another state for a sad occasion, their great grandmother passed away yesterday. The funeral is today. I don’t know what they know about death or funerals but hope they ask a few questions. These rituals have always been a mystery to me.

Zoe has offered, if events go long, to play with the kids. I said OK as long as I can “snoopervise.” Too bad my husband is not here, he’s made the kids balloon animals with great grandma in attendance.

Recently I wrote about a childhood neighbor who asked “what are you?” A six year old girl, a student, “no, what ARE you?” I didn’t even think of it. I was Catholic. She was Protestant. We came to that situation with armed guards, horses, SWAT teams when a soccer match was on in Scotland. Rangers vs. Celtics. They had a parade that marched below our windows and I think every police officer in Scotland was there to make sure there was not a ruckus. Ask Gordon Ramsay.

A and C’s family are Jewish. I looked up information, and the florist did as well and said that if this is the location where the family is sitting shiva it is not appropriate to send flowers. While there’s a mezzuzah on the door frame I do know that they’re reform and wanted to give this lapsed Catholic’s condolences. K saved Zoe’s life, it was the least I could do.

Yesterday I went to a great flower store and even though it was not 50% off Friday I brought my own vase and picked up a few spring blooms. I’d heard the reception would not be here but at the nursing home. When I got home there were flowers from great grandpa so I felt OK to leave them across the hall.

At my age, having two kids under ten years old knock on our door to visit our 12 year-old dog is fantastic. They gave their Aunt Dee a hug and put Zoe through her paces. She was so excited after our walk she asked for Precious, her only toy, and gleefully squeaked it. She’s now possessing it in her sleep, happy that her friends have returned for a day.

Death and dying are universal things. How we go about ritualizing them is personal. I spent an entire week halfway across the country with my mother eight years ago. She said these words and these only, to me. “Get me some water, please.” My gift to her after she died was to have her body removed and use her eye tissue to help another. My family fought me all the way but that’s what she wanted before cremation.

In the end, we do what we need to do. She had walked the breeding seeing eye dogs for a decade. Dee