Category Archives: Uncategorized

Wild Strawberries

My father always pushed the boundaries and succeeded. A college graduate, he was drafted and given “elite” jobs like striping roads, yes, laying paint. He decided he’d had enough double-time so said the troops were in need of morale and asked permission to create a band. He did, and the band stood aside after playing, and the soldiers did double-time. He ended up managing and playing violin for the Seventh Army Symphony throughout Europe after the Korean war.

My husband pushes the boundaries. I have as well. In her time I believe my mother pushed them, too.

My parents bought a house on a small street in a village of 400, when the college students were not in residence. That wasn’t enough, Dad had to have property so bought 25 acres up in the hills. We worked hard every weekend to finish that property while my sister and I looked for ways to get to the creek. The fastest way was a frayed rope to get down a cliff. For a week we shunned that and went the long way.

Ah, the long way produced tiny wild strawberries. When one lives in cold climates, fresh fruits and vegetables are prized. We picked and ate those strawberries every day they were in season and never told anyone where we found them on our property.

We now live a nomadic life that takes us where we need or want to go for business and personal purposes. My husband doesn’t play the violin but in certain ways we’re both risk-takers and we’re always problem-solvers. I think that’s what brought us together.

His family had a dairy, and now a ranch because as people get older they can’t milk a herd alone and family farms are being eaten by corporate interests. My husband has an excellent education due to his loving family and many forces and may just be the wild strawberry that needs to be chosen. Dee

Cliente non e Importante

In Italian this means the clients are not good enough for the owner or staff to recognize and while we may wish to custom order shirts for my husband, the owner spent his time with a guy in the store (not the dressing room) trying on sweaters from the sale rack.

Yes, this is a store for clothing for men. I went yesterday and there were no customers so the owner spent a few moments with me so I could show the store to my husband this weekend for possibilities. He tested me on Italy to make sure I could afford to purchase their goods. Today, he dismissed us and made a big mistake.

We left after he spent time with the sweater guy. Maybe sweater guy spent $100 in the end, maybe not. He turned away a customer who may have ordered custom shirts, slacks, designer ties. He just lost a mint as we walked out.

I like to think of the millionaires in the world (no we are not) driving up in a 15 year-old Ford 150 pickup and wearing cowboy clothes. At first, no-one knows who they are. They are treated badly. I can tell you I’d have clothes tailored and measure both of us and bring things in to try rather than go through that routine. If that was our life I’d like to try it sometime. Wish I had my old Jeep Wrangler. I could probably buy it back because I loved that Jeep.

For years we lived in one of the premier ski towns in the USA. On Main Street the clothier treated us like gold before we ever bought anything, and did so during the years we lived there. He knows us today and would welcome us with open arms.

Now we live in a dying/dead city and a pretentious clothing purveyor needed to question me about Italy in order to get us in (I surpassed him and would with art as well) then dismissed us the next day.

It’s not about clothing, it’s about attitude. In the Rockies I was a person, in a rust belt town I’m nothing. Something to think about as you’re a big fish in a small pond..

Dear Mr. III, the third, the chosen one to own the store, what is in the first room in the Ufizzi? I’ll bet you don’t know. I do and don’t spend my life in mens’ fashion but just want to make my husband look good, and we’ll not be back. Thanks for trying to make us look small, you only did it to yourself. Dee

Old, New and Marriage

Yes, at our elopement I wore my great grandmother’s wedding pearls as well as new pearl earrings from a guest.

We’re really talking about a KitchenAid food processor my husband’s parents kindly gave us upon our wedding over 11 years ago. The top cracked a while ago. Last week, preparing for a dinner party, the crack let me overshoot the lock and I couldn’t get it back so punted and still made a good dinner.

Of course my dear husband got right out there and ordered me another top. It looks like I did 20 years ago. It’s perfect but everything KitchenAid must be purchased separately, from the work bowl to the top and even the plunger.

I’ve treated all the parts well and only place them in the dishwasher, top shelf, a few times a year but it’s been over 11 years and the difference in age, as it is in humans, is substantial.

Seeing the tops side by side I know a few things: we’re getting older and wiser; new stuff looks better with the work bowl and plunger; and that my husband has more grey hair than I have.

I think we’re looking up. Cook with abandon. The last thing I want to do is throw that motor in the trash. Get new bowls and keep cooking, always. Cheers! Dee

Turbo Tax

When you call in with a question, it summons a customer survey. If they don’t like the results, they say there was an error in transmission or they can’t read the data. You go, Intuit! Insult all your clients.

And last year when I went to the paid-for audit division, they gave me a call back number that was a sex line. I was called within moments by their boss, who apologized. Weeks later I got an email saying that I made a mistake, the phone number was one digit off and I must have made an error.

I’ve worked with lots of guys in offices before cubes were even invented, and I know that when a bunch of guys are laughing out loud when I’m given the sex line number that it was not a mistake, it was intentional.

This year I’ll do our taxes by hand because now paying Intuit $30 for Federal taxes and having them fail to import W-2’s and I have to place every box in by hand and pay for it is ridiculous. Here’s to two things we all have in common, death and taxes. Dee

Learning

I’d like to think I learned a lot from my parents, school, ballet, violin, piano and maybe even college.

After college I was hired for the best job I ever had. I got to learn skills in over 100 areas, had one of the largest loads of work, made less than everyone else because I was single and was supposed to work around the clock.

One man gave me a chance, at life and being smart and hanging out with other smart people. His name was Doug and he changed my life. I was no longer a shy big fish in a little pond, I was a swimmer who kept up with all the really smart people around me.

Doug died the other day. I never had a rapport with him 25 years ago because he was scary to a little kid like me. I would like to send his family my respect for his life and how he changed mine.

He taught me how to learn to talk to a military officer and I ended up having one marry us, my surrogate parents, a Naval Fleet Captain, Ret.  He married us over 11 years ago and nearly two years ago we flew to his burial at Annapolis where his widow, my dear friend, got to meet SecNav and get a memorial coin.

Doug was in on my first interview which I blew, big time. They asked me if I knew insurance, no. McKinney’s? Those were the law books. I asked who’s McKinney? That was Friday. Monday I had a job, and my life would have been vastly different if I’d taken the job as head of PR at a celebrated arts facility nearby and I may have never met my husband.

Both jobs paid little to nothing. I was expected to be smart and learn anything they threw at me, and I did. Five years later when I left I knew at least fifty areas of knowledge, it was a decade later when I fully realized I was writing laws for 34 million people. That was scary.

I never knew how to deal with Doug as he was a tough egg to crack and I didn’t know how to crack an egg and know a soft inside, even with my father. Doug was ex-military and I didn’t even know that. Years ago I met the mother I always wanted and my surrogate dad, that Navy Captain who married us. His widow is a dear friend and their sons have called me “sis” for many years.

Whilst I always got quiet around Doug I was the person to whom he tasked to take care of his home and pets while he and his family were away. I’d like to think there’s a synergy there because I’ve since had at pet or two all my life since then, have worked with shelters and spay/neuter and everyone calls me to take care of their pets. There’s no money involved at my age, just neighbors helping each other out, but he was my first “client.”

In the end, Doug fostered relationships that made us a family. We only competed against each other for promotions, and worked in collaboration to read each others’ papers for readability and errors (pre-computer) and The McGraw Team did the U-T and NYT crosswords at five o-clock each Friday as a competition.

I sat Doug down at a party and told him I was at the end of my rope in a current position. The next day, after a horrific struggle at the last job, the current one was a dream. When I gave notice to move elsewhere, outside the family, I was called in by my chairman to go over the annual report. It was a surprise party with cake and everything. I spoke to this Chairman’s son recently and he did remember me.

God bless Doug M and know, family, that he is remembered, even by old kids who knew him over 30 years ago. We always wanted to be better. Cheers to all families, Dee

Mentors and Bullies

Yes, I was bullied by insecure boys trying to have fun and see who could make the little girl cry first. I was sent to the Principal’s office and given a series of photos. They rode our small bus out in the country and I didn’t want to rat them out but the Principal already knew who they were from their past behavior.

My neighbors on the dairy below knew I’d be targeted on the bus after that. Nine boys got up on the bus and told the F boys never to target Dee again. They never did so.

For mentorship of course my parents, my godparents, my aunts LB and J were there. J’s parents were as well. They’re both gone now and I look forward to talking to them and raising a glass one day. She was a fireball, in a good way. She just wanted to rain all that bright love all over you. He was quiet and just sat with me until I told him the problem, then he’d sit there on a bench a bit longer and tell me what to do, usually about bullies.

Back then I didn’t know that bullies were weak, as they’re insecure and try to appear strong and mean. I was smart enough to cut them down with a word but too shy do do so.

Without knowing it I’ve had so many mentors over the years from GG to AJ and here I was awaiting Warren Buffett or perhaps Jimmy Buffett or Pete Seeger (rip) or Johnny Cash or Clint Eastwood or perhaps Cary Grant to help out. In a pinch, Gary Cooper could make things work out. I think the shootout is at noon, at least that’s what he said.

USA Network won’t let anyone write in a bullying story unless they place it on Facebook, which must be their sponsor. I do my own thing and don’t get bullied by USA Network and Facebook. Cheers! Dee

Crescent Moon

An orange crescent moon arose

through the clouds. In its rise

it shimmered on the lake

but the lake was frozen

in time and place.

Perhaps so are we.

***

The ice fishers actually catch fish, and I even saw someone skating within the first jetty the other day, possibly inspired by the Olympics. We need to thank these young athletes for holding the torch not just for the USA but all of them, for the world.

***

I met someone who told me a story. I’m a person to whom stories are told because I listen. He left Cuba at age five, was arrested by the Coast Guard and spent 18 months at GITMO. I’ve serious doubts and fears of what we now, years later, call the “patriot act” but to confine a child is heinous. And his family was held for as long as five years and I don’t know if they were sent back or received asylum.

He now has a two year-old and will do anything in regard to providing for this child. It is truly inspirational to meet people who work hard and provide for their families when they came with little or nothing and are trying to make things work.

***

The USA was always called a melting pot. Going back to the Olympics, Our roster was normally white and wealthy, especially at the Winter Games where kids started skiing or skating at age three and were coached by their Olympian parents and others.

Now, athletes figure out in which country they can compete and use dual citizenship or proving parental records so they can compete for another country. For example seeing the name Chan in Canada which shows that we have a more global view. He’s from Toronto, but his name shows his heritage.

And the Prince who competed for Mexico? Bravo.

 

What holds the USA back is a continuous fight about “borders” but they’re not worried about Canadians coming in here, it’s our Southern borders that are at stake. It’s time we started to think globally.

Thanks always for reading. Sorry I’ve been a bit lax in writing for a bit. Dee

Happy Birthday Zoe!

I know the day you were adopted but not the moment because you popped out of the cardboard box they gave us. I was in the passenger seat with you, at nearly six weeks old, on my lap.

While J drove I grabbed you and threw the useless cardboard box in the back seat, hoping you wouldn’t do anything nasty sitting on my lap. You were so calm and sweet and have always been a “car dog.”

To this day you have your 4″ orthopedic mattress in the back and you only wake up on off-ramps or at stop signs/lights.

We named you Zoe, Greek for life. I’ve worked with animals for over 20 years and this is the happiest dog I’ve ever met. No, they won’t let her work as a therapy dog because she eats raw food. At age ten, I’m not going to change her diet.

People here don’t know my name but everyone knows hers. Zoe. We had to have her hips taken out as a pup due to severe hip dysplasia. She grew her own, as she was too small for titanium hips. For years she could corner around a tree and lose a Retriever chasing a ball.

Next week she goes in for her first elderly blood panel, shots and health check. She doesn’t get much chance to run here. All the dog parks are far away and the fines for off-leash activity are high. I always think of her in the outfield, waiting for the Chuck-it to hit and beat all the pups and dumb dogs. She would bring the tennis ball back and drop it at my feet. Then go back to the outfield.

Life without her would be really tough. At least this time I may have my husband at my side. I’ve been through four of these and each takes a part of your soul.

But today is a happy day and Zoe and my husband are sleeping soundly on our bed as I write. Zoe’s on my pillow. She won’t let me out of her sight. I’m the food wench!

Note: 1/30 was my mother’s birthday. She’s been gone over five years now. I made Zoe’s birthday 1/31 for reasons.

 

Stories

my loves lie snoring
in our bedroom, sound asleep
awaiting just me

Of course the dog will have taken over my pillow by now.

I’ve been sitting at my desk and watching the Coast Guard ice cutter go to and fro so that the shipping lanes are clear. The Coast Guard is fascinating to me because about a year and a half ago a summer storm came up out of nowhere and their helicopter hung overhead, stationary, in 70 mph winds for an hour making sure every small craft was off the Lake and towed out of the water.

It was simply amazing. When I was 11 we had a substitute teacher for a couple of weeks and he wanted to teach us science by learning about planes and helicopters. I learned about altimeters and flaps but also Sikorsky’s and wanted to pilot a helicopter more than anything. Then I got into horses, then dogs. Boys came along way later. We had two male next-door neighbors and we’d play ghost man softball or build sand castles or they’d throw snakes at us. We were kids!

Oh, as to the drycleaning issue, I was admonished by the manager here for bringing her a problem that was one initiated by the cleaner. I agree. But this gal has no customer service capacity as of now (I suggested she get more training, not be fired). Now she’s here again tonight giving me the silent treatment and a glare, a juvenile trick that may have worked with her parents but I pay her salary. The more she messes up the more residents will complain and she’ll be history. I made a positive comment and said she needed more training. Now I let the rope out and she needs to know to hang on or hang.

As I’ve said, a concierge began as keeper of the keys and evolved to hotel amenities such as tickets to sold-out Broadway shows. We’re somewhere in-between and I just think this young woman doesn’t get that in an adult job, one must suck it up and do what is needed to fit the job description. I’m nice to everyone. I bring them great homemade food. This attitude is not what we pay for and expect. All for now, it’s late. Dee

Zoe Haiku

Zoe keeps my heart

Pure, Jim is also my soul

They work together