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There is always light through a tunnel, a down-time, as if a door closes it is a time of opportunity as a window will open and if you can get through it there are new opportunities ahead.

What? I’m the glass half-full gal? Yep. Better than half-empty.

I’ve a herding dog who is 14 and follows me everywhere within two minutes. I take her to the grocery store because she loves being in the car on her 4″ orthopedic mattress in back of her cargo gate and next to her water. She awakens on highways on off-ramps and gas stations, and on the road to the farm house my husband’s parents built 40 years ago in Texas. They have to give it up for a lake to make water for the Dallas Metroplex, so moved the cattle this week to a new home. I don’t know that Zoe will ever learn the smells of that new road and home away from home.

Today she did not awaken when I left her on the bed. I kept checking her breathing while I left her to write, and when I touched her to wake up The Hip-less Wonder jumped down on her own and had a great time with folks outside. She is losing her hearing, and her sight due to cataracts. She reminds me of my little brother and sister’s dog Nike who was catatonic at home but raised her tail to meet everyone on a walk.

I see light in her future and also a time to let her go. If you’ve a pup or grown dog learn broad hand signals for come, sit, stay, down and heel. I can touch her head and say “come” without saying a word and we go out. She eats as a chow hound, will eat any visiting dog’s food, so I don’t let her eat that, and has no problems on the other end.

Let’s let her faculties decline without major problems or the need for anesthesia. I will know when it is time and be with her until the end. My husband is tall and strong and has been a pallbearer many times. He doesn’t wish to be there to see our Zoe die but I made him promise 14 years ago to be there for her in life and death. I have to be there for her until the end of her, and our, light. She found her way to the office and is lying beside me. I need to assure final arrangements. She’s been staring at me so I took her for a second walk and everything was OK.

We decided on no anesthesia, no surgeries, no heroic means to keep her with us. Palliative care is OK but we never want her to suffer. She has passed tests to show she’s good physically and I know she’s way too smart mentally as she plays us all the time! She is just losing her senses of sight and sound for now. Again, broad movements for five basic tasks. She remembers all of them (plus turn around, roll over and high-five) for 14 years.

I dread the day that light goes out. Dee

You know we don’t “do” what we call “Hallmark holidays.” Years ago you had me inscribe our wedding date and my birthday inside your wedding ring of 15 years. You still forget both.

Thank you for going over the top this year for Valentine’s Day. The package arrived today and as you are off miles away for work I opened it early. Tons of paper. Toilet paper, Charmin to be exact. It was everything I hoped for, thank you, dearest love!

A card every birthday, thanksgiving with your family, and a renewal of vows (or cows) would be appropriate. Perhaps vows with cows? No meows though, you’re allergic.

After all these years let’s keep skipping “Hallmark holidays” as I’d take a Charmin delivery any day as a sign of your love.

To the absent-minded professor, my husband and love of my life, my funny Valentine, “you make me smile with my heart.” xoxo Dee

ps Perhaps some weekend we can get our wedding rings cleaned and polished. That would be fun. D

Our family has lived in a high-rise overlooking a large lake for six years now. It snows here and the staff have people come in to clean the public rooms such as the lobby, and over-salt our sidewalks.

We were promised it was a pet-friendly building and mostly that is the case. We are not allowed to walk our dogs over the terrace to get to the other tower and must instead go through the garage or around in a blizzard or heavy rainstorm.

Though there has been no written confirmation as yet my husband was told yesterday that no dogs are allowed in the lobby. I’m thinking that conservatively, about 60% of residents have a dog. We can all leave with 1-2 months notice. We spend a lot of money for our space and our view, and rent for our pets.

Management complained about paw prints in the lobby and a few dogs who are ornery or bark too much so relegated us all to the back door and a gravel “dog area” where there is no gate. That is unacceptable to me. We don’t even go there.

Our dog Zoe is old. Yesterday she slipped walking into the hallway outside our bedroom and nearly did a split with her back hip-less legs but corrected herself. She has provided treats for the “dog cupboard” in the lobby for years, few others do so (thanks P). She entertains staff, kids, grandparents come visit us when their kiddos are in town and the kids play with her and make parfaits, and she gets along with other dogs, except one who bit me and I believe has moved away.

The reason for the dog ban is that they want the lobby to look nice when they bring potential residents around. I can tell you that I may see a few snowy, salty dog prints on the charcoal slate floors in the lobby at 6-7 a.m. when I take out Zoe, but many more shoe and boot prints. Next, are they going to ban residents from the lobby because of snow and over-salting of sidewalks?

The second fake reason is a real cop-out. We can’t tell who’s making the footprints or paw prints so we’re going to ban all dogs from the lobby. If one dog barks incessantly, or another bites a fellow resident and draws blood, are they going to ban all dogs from the towers? If so they’ll lose most of their money, and quickly.

Perhaps they want us all to leave because it’s an excuse to go condo again. It failed the first time, when the investors went bankrupt and ended up doing cheap fixes and shoddy work in the end. Now they’re stuck with low-end fixes and high-end prices. Let’s see, marble sink vs. plastic.

If a dog-owning resident allows his/her dog to bark beyond control or bite people or other dogs, deal with the problem. If it’s a problem with a dog-sitter who walks multiple dogs, talk with their service. Do not punish all for the acts of a few.

Zoe doesn’t have much time left. She’s still healthy but has cataracts and is hard of hearing. The best part of her day is walking through the lobby, saying hello to staff and meeting folks on our short walks. When she’s ill, maybe 2X/yr. I’ve been instructed to take her through the lobby. The night concierge knows I’m old and infirm as well, and tells me to go through the lobby so he/she knows I’m out at 2 a.m. In five minutes they’ll find me or call 911. Not from the back door. We pay for security and they are denying it.

Of late at least one car has been stolen and dumped, and the license plates stolen and kept. We spend good money to park in a safe garage underneath that isn’t safe anymore. I’ve a door stick inside our front door. A couple of years ago there was a female thief who broke in to a number of places here and was caught on camera smoking a cigarette and counting her money. The DA would not prosecute so she’s still around.

One would think that management would have more concerns than a few salty paw prints in the lobby. I often carry Zoe over the salt, put on her rain coat and sometimes, after wiping my feet, carry her over wet floors that have just been mopped. They should have someone on call to mop affected areas as needed, and keep their focus on transgressors, not everyone who lives here. Oh, Zoe will not be donating any more treats to the lobby until this issue is resolved, and I will make sure, with fellow residents, that it is resolved. Cheers! Dee

I had to figure it out. It was a gift from a former employee who was ramping up to a newer version. Control C. It was already wiped clean of everything so I had to figure out what to buy to make it work. You know by the title how old it was. It had about 30 mg and even with a new brain it was impressive for the time but essentially useless.

After I got it going and a laser printer I had a desk. Later I found out it was a gift from the CIA with which we have no knowledge whatsoever, a throw-away. Everything needed prompts, from C to printer.

No, I’m not on top, I have a MacBook Pro. My old MacBook lasted 8 years and is still hooked up here in case of failure.  Yes, my phone is a year old as well. My last iPhone 3  was ten years old and it first was was sent overseas. I hated my new phone and threatened to find whoever got the old one somewhere and give him/her the newest version and get mine back. Yes, there’s something called fair trade.

The computer is not getting me too badly with the new updates. The phone is. The apps on both are amazingly non-cognitive, like iPhoto. It is another month today, and I know my job which includes paying bills online and actually cooking a full chicken. The chicken is easy.

We’ve family to remember, and those to  care for every day, no matter how far we are from our dear ones.  Cheers from Dee

Who, me? Well after the 1860’s my father-in-law, a Texan, said I was the cause for the “war of Northern Aggression.”

If there is an upcoming course it’s three days (nothing on their site yet). I’d like to do this three day course if it works into family activities.

My husband and his brother, who is now my brother for 15 years last week, are Aggies. So is Cousin V the vet, who took out both of our dog’s hips as a pup due to severe hip dysplasia. Dog Zoe grew her own hips from cartilage and turned 14 years old yesterday. We brought some treats for fellow dogs. Thanks, Dr. Val! She wouldn’t be with us without you.

Whether I do or do not take this three-day intensive course I evinced an idea of taking a course that would help my husband demonstrably. It is about beef. His parents have a ranch and cattle and he’s a meat and potatoes guy. I’m a cook.

I can’t call myself an Aggie until I am one. My father-in-law will love that story. If they do offer another class I can attend I would love to do so. Cheers! Dee

This is for my dear brother. He is an intuitive cook but of late with the passing of our parents we are seeking childhood food memories.

I remembered one specifically. No, my brother is not lazy by any means. It was our mother’s “lazy chicken.” I’ve no idea where she got it from, perhaps her gift subscription to Gourmet magazine. The fifties and sixties were mostly canned sauces like cream of celery, or cream of mushroom, then she got a gift of Gourmet for the remainder of her life (thanks, J).

It’s an old Romanian recipe called Lazy Chicken, and tasty it is. Unfortunately I cannot fire my oven to 450 else smoke detectors will go off. Small baking dish to contain the meal. I’m cooking for two, here and making it up as I go along as Mom never left the recipe. Two chicken breasts on the bone, three carrots and an onion, plus diagonally cut potatoes, veg cut to stick up and char a bit at the ends. I add a bit of butter, salt, pepper, thyme, chicken broth and a splash of white wine. Place in a hot oven for up to an hour, basting every 20 minutes. Voila! Lazy Chicken. Multiply for larger dinner parties.

When K was younger I gave him this recipe and he said “there’s nothing lazy about it at all! You know I never use more than five ingredients!” Honey, you’ve got no pots and pans to wash, have just cooked dinner a deux in one baking dish and no last-minute work if you’re entertaining except to baste one last time while your guests have a glass of wine and chat. Dinner is served.

It’s early in the morning. I’ll call him later. Within the past weeks we both made Mom’s orange chicken that she used to make with juice concentrate and I use fresh oranges or juice as available. We have yet to compare our approaches to that dish, which is usually served over rice. Or stuffed peppers that I do not boil first as our mother did, I like to keep in the nutrients from red bell peppers and use turkey, Israeli couscous and Italian sun-dried tomatoes.  We were not offered, in our small town, any of these ingredients when we were kids.

We both enjoy lives with significant others (married 15 years last week) who have their own peccadillos as my husband cannot even look at anything that survives under water but I like the fact that my brother and I have tactile memories of our childhood that include scent and taste. We just make our own riffs on it.

I was working a few hours away, and visited when K was finishing high school. He and my youngest sister had a Collie named Nike, no, not after the shoe. It was a weekend and I think Dad made breakfast for all.

Helping out, I saw a small, plastic yellow bowl divided into two sections. It was for the dog, for weekends only. On on the left went two perfectly poached eggs over a piece of toast, and on the right, two milk bone treats. Exactly the same, every weekend. OK, I can help with that while you make the pancakes, Dad.

I made Nike her eggs and toast and her biscuits in the correct receptacle and served it to Her Highness, the Greek goddess. She wouldn’t eat it. My brother asked if I’d buttered the toast. I replied, “she’s a dog.” I buttered the toast and she loved it.

Attention to detail, drive, spirit, meticulousness, the urge to change lives and institutions, love of life and those in it are characteristics of the man I married 15 years ago. They can also be attributed to me, my late father, and to my brother. On my bucket list is to create a menu with my brother and cook it together.

Oh, I didn’t have a bucket list until now. Change is always possible. The meal will be more involved than Lazy Chicken, perhaps even Cassoulet. When I made it for him after cooking school Dad said that was the best meal he ever ate. Good thing is that K will have to be wherever for at least a weekend and perhaps we can see some art! Yes, I’m sneaky. While we’re awaiting the cassoulet I might teach him true Texas chili, Dee-style.

The Lazy Chicken will be saved for ourselves and you, of course. Be well, cheers! Dee

ps Dog lovers, I am one. Mine is 14 this week and has no hips. She has her food preferences as well and I listen. I spent years working with shelter dogs (adopted two) and cats (two as well). We met our Zoe at a shelter at 5 weeks of age and adopted her a day later when she turned six weeks. Fourteen years tomorrow, I don’t know what I’d do without her. D

pps K, we’re going for the 30th for Zoe’s birthday, it lines up and also makes fun of the federal government for treating Mom so badly by having so many federal agencies debate her date of birth. We are not allowed to have a party with a dog in attendance anywhere. I’ll do it anyway. We live here, what’s to keep us from handing out dog treats. I don’t expect you to fly in for the occasion but have other ideas afoot.

We are hermetically sealed in here and haven’t opened a window in over five years. Why? Mosquitos. They hunt me as they, bees, no see ‘ums have since childhood. Now after putting weather stripping around our front door, I’m getting spider bites. We put out new sticky traps so that may do the trick.

Heat dries out everything, including our skin and nasal passages and eyes. For years we’ve had a classic Devillebiss 1957 vaporizer, the kind your parents told you never to touch. The element broke a while ago and given its age I don’t know if anyone can fix it.

If we can’t find anyone, I’ll plant basil in the beautiful glass jar in a month or two. When my sister and I were sick, usually at the same time, we had a glass vaporizer we could not touch for fear of death. Mom put a salve from Vick’s on our chests to clear our nasal passages and lungs.

Now Vick’s has an other-worldly plastic blob that we bought a few days ago and is changing our world. We’ve lived at sea level, 300 feet above, intermediate and then 6,500 above and it was dry enough air up there for my finger to touch a thermostat to change it, and fry it. The charge threw me back to the dishwasher, it was six degrees outside and luckily the “heatilator” aka gas fireplace was electrically charged but already on and we now had no power. That was fixed within the hour. Our first high-tech steam mechanism died, draining water into its electrical element and rendering it hazardous.

We settled for the 1957 which worked great for years. Now we’ve little air and enough room for spiders. There’s room for a “blob” that works to humidify the air around us. I’ve called everyone from bottom to top in government about the mosquito problem. We’ve locked our windows because there is a fetid swamp below that used to be a railroad track.

It is now a lovely hiking/biking/walking trail with a mosquito-infested swamp to the side. The mosquitos come to me. They bite me. Dogs and cats and kids seek and love me and don’t bite unless they’re teething. As for mosquitos I ran up the food chain from city up to the feds, CDC sent me a pamphlet on mosquito-borne diseases. EPA said that this four-inch deep swamp was governed by the Marine Mammal Protection Act!

I told the EPA I’d never seen a porpoise or blue whale in a 4″ deep mud hole of muck and mosquitos. They would never take action and we’ve not opened a window since. That’s why we humidify our air indoors. Cheers, Dee

One must do so. There may be sad or angry days at life as we know it, but muddling through is a “must do.” Top of the list, as my brother would tell me. I had “get passport” on the top of my list for three years and when I got it, it still has become a family joke for a long time. Get through trials of patience and will.

The legal counsel who will not be identified gave me the worst pick-up line in history (“You’re an attractive woman, I’m a man, we both have needs.”) He also let me do all his work for him while I made 1/10th his salary but did show me a museum so that if I needed fifteen minutes of peace at lunch time I could go there and see a nature film. He also said “never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” Hanlon’s Razor.

An old friend said to me “never eat maroon food.” I think he made that up! I do eat beets and red cabbage and have an occasional glass of red wine.

Losing important people, livelihood, friends and family is difficult. I saw a piece on Princess Diana the other night. Shortly after her death, her children encouraged people around the world to give to charity, via money or volunteerism. Everyone in the USA gave to their trust fund for their mother’s charities, not to their local animal shelter or food bank or library. That upset me as a consultant who helped build communities and non-profit organizations.

The other day I walked up to the butcher’s counter and said it’s our 15th anniversary. He replied “you must want meat.” Yes. I got two NY strip steaks that we split one day and he had the second yesterday. When I went back to pick up some veg, eggs and milk a butcher came out and called my name. He wished me a happy anniversary and thanked me for the Texas chili I brought in for a tasting. Building communities one step at a time.

The flower store knows me and the dog and calls us by name. Every child and dog owner in the neighborhood knows us. Kids ask to pet old Zoe. Of course! We help shy children emerge, into what, I do not know but hope it helps them center themselves, get rid of fear, and move on in life. The rule is they ask, I ask parent, parent says yes, OK. I don’t know what to do when our old dog Zoe is gone. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and do it all over again.

Life has bumps, ups and downs and one must just go through them and remember what was learned in the process. It is a process of dealing with the loss of someone or something you were used to having every day. Build up. Remember what you had and make the best of it.

Both my parents are gone now and I try to remember good times as we had many. Skinny-dipping with my sister in the pool at night. Joyful moments sliding down a cliff and catching crayfish. No, my mother had never seen live seafood and wouldn’t deign to cook it. Oh, what she missed. There’s a rainbow out there, just wait for the sun to emerge. Cheers! Dee

There is no time to be gained, only to be used wisely.

Life is short. We make mistakes. Hopefully we correct those mistakes and do not repeat them in the future. I was 25, my brother was 17. He ordered a beer and I was asked for proof of age, now I would be ecstatic!

We were staying at a pension where they held our passports and hotel keys so we would pay the bill. I’d been given a beautiful Coach bag with a simple lock, just a twist, as a gift and we wanted to travel light so I brought it. We had two days in Paris and went to the Jeu de Pomme when the impressionist paintings were still in residence. I lifted my hand to choose a few postcards to send home and my wallet was gone.

With the wallet went all my travelers checks, credit cards, drivers license and registration. The rest of the two days was spent waiting at the Consulate and police department.

When I returned home I had to take an entire day off to deal with the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV). I waited in line and they had my passport but denied a new license because I didn’t have two forms of identification (one would think a valid passport was enough.)

Dismissed, I looked at the car registration line and it was short. I went through it, got a replacement registration and used that as my second form of identification in the license line. Another day mis-used, waiting. Sneaky, I know, now I know to get a safe in your hotel and keep passport, drivers’ license and registration in it or preferably the latter two at home unless you plan to drive and apply in advance for a drivers’ license that allows driving overseas. No, not driving over the sea, that would not be recommended.

Now waiting takes on new meaning. One day I was waiting, probably 10th in line for a sandwich next door. This was NYC across from the Library (yes, the one with the lions).

A song was on the radio. The owner asked the name of the song. He told us that anyone in line who could name it would get a free sandwich tomorrow. It was the can-can dance. I searched my brain and called out Orpheus in the Underworld by Jacques Offenbach, with the composer’s name that was not required for the contest. Stunned silence. The next day the owner had looked it up and I was correct and got a free sandwich. Standing in line isn’t always a bad thing. Oh, and I don’t think the owner had another such contest. The answer was just pulled out of long-term musical memory, thanks Dad and teachers.

Head gates are how dairy famers get their stock to behave for milking. They want to be milked as relieved of their burdens and they also get treats. They stand in line. Yes, just like us. They also communicate and take on orphan calves. There is always a nanny in the herd. Best, Dee

I grew up seeing my dear aunt knit during pre-dinner conversations or even watching us kids open our Christmas presents. Of late she has been a volunteer working on lap robes for the elderly and veterans, and hats and booties for preemies at the local hospital.

That she could knit and talk at the same time without ever looking down at her works was always a marvel to me. In college, I had no money to buy my family holiday gifts. I always helped my mother and Auntie L ready the yarn. That means sitting with hands up for an inordinate amount of time so one could knit.

Aunt L taught me how to knit and purl, 101. I never learned to transition to a thumb so couldn’t make mittens. I decided on golf club covers, a mitten without a thumb, for my father and brother. No club numbers but I knew then how to make pom poms for the tops. I needlepointed a pre-fab plastic mesh glasses case for my mother and gave sundry gifts to my siblings.

Knitting gave way to petit point. Tiny cotton thread needlepoint on patterned fabric. I made them for family. Vision has diminished since then. Amazon may be a source for microscopic glass (the kind used for surgery). It’s been many years since Auntie L taught me needlepoint and how to weave the thread in back.

The last needlepoint, petit point, I worked on was over 20 years ago and was recently found in a bag in a box. It is a complicated one of flowers and as I entered the center I questioned my judgment as to how many stitches per flower. Where do I start and stop? I gave up before it was finished.

Some folks think that failure makes one weak. It does not. It makes one strong. Look at, well Yoda is not the best example. Let’s just think of it as a teaching experience. If one makes the same mistake again and again, that’s a problem.

A knitter and I started our blogs the same week, years ago. We have become friends over the years but have never met. pdxknitterati lives thousands of miles away. We were both awarded sort of “up and comer” awards on this site. She introduced me to the songs of a Western singer. I listened and brought the singer/songwriter in for Nanny’s 82nd birthday.

If I brush up on technique, make sure I wear wrist braces for my arthritis and get proper light and vision and find my artist frame, I’ve the wherewithal to finish this flower for my Auntie L. Wisdom is the key that hopefully comes with age. If it’s messed up I did so but I was able to make that decision on my own and will not hesitate to do so as I did when young. First, the hole in the needle in which to place the thread must be visible to the eye. Cheers! Dee

ps I’m looking up knitting and needlepoint specialty stores with teachers. And guitar. D