Sugar and Spice, and Herbs

Posted on September 28, 2015 | 1 comment

At lunch time my major concern is that window washers are coming down and there are ropes hanging. Our poor old dog doesn’ know what to do so I’m awaiting their arrival and introducing them as our friends, as I do every year.

I cannot go out or get lunch anywhere until they are below us and friends.

Today my husband went out a new adventure. Part of it is attending a wedding for a young cousin. Brava! We sent her one gift this morning, no, two. I had the opportunity to teach the bride and her cousin cooking classes, two years at Thanksgiving, when she was just a little girl. I heard that she and her future husband  like to cook together.

All I’ll tell you about the first gift is that it includes reference works (how romantic) plus the same spiced nuts I place on Nanny’s table every year for 14 years come next week. The spiced nuts were not sent to the bride, but to her mother, to calm her nerves and know everything will be OK. Don’t stress! Nanny and I are there in spirit for you. Just place the nuts on the table, take a breath.

Of course for Thanksgiving I never would have tried to do pies or cakes. First, I do not bake. Second, you couldn’t imagine the tastes up there on that Thanksgiving table. Forget the table after being satiated by turkey, ham, brisket and numerous side dishes. Feeding 50+ with just desserts, one must use windowsills et all!

I thought a lot of fresh spices and herbs would complete our wedding package so ordered it from Penzey’s this morning and it will arrive before the wedding as well. I remember when the bride’s youngest brother climbed off his mother’s lap and insisted on kissing me goodbye. He’s grown now and would hate to hear that story. I’ll keep it for blackmail!

For the bride and groom come common herbs, chilis and cinnamon sugar, sugar and spice. Congratulations, newlyweds!

In the beginning I  concentrated on two things and knew no-one left much on the kitchen table. I brought my homemade boursin and crackers, plus spiced nuts and just left them on the table. During The Game all the ladies congregated in the Kitchen and I hope I had a part in that. Next year I gave them spinach balls but left that recipe to a new bride in my new family.

Mincemeat tarts, Brussels sprout and cauliflower vegetarian (but rich and sinful) gratin. I don’t remember the rest at the moment, only that the boursin and nuts always are on the kitchen table and after all the good dishes are cleaned and replaced that’s where we go to relax before the next round. Yes, there’s a next round after The Game and it entails plastic cups and paper plates.  That’s why I wanted cousin the MOB to have the nuts on the kitchen table in a bowl, or wherever she wants them. My husband flew them south this morning and will take another flight and car to the wedding.

Sorry I will not be there. I did go off the bride’s gift list but then again, I taught her cooking when she was a little kid and her cousin K said my first year (before marriage) that “Nanny has shoes like that.” Ouch! Love these gals and it makes me feel really old to see one getting married. To Bride and Groom! Dee

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The Red Moon

Posted on September 27, 2015 | Leave a comment

It does kind of look it like now but I can’t see it from my desk. Despite our age difference I believe we both saw the last one 40 years ago and he may see yet another.

We just turned off all the lights and looked through the windows. It had been cloudy and rainy all day but cleared up. When the moon got dark, I believe Coast Guard helicopers urged a few small craft out to the jettys for safety. Thank goodness for the Coast Guard!

The moon is dark now, but I will await the shadows to fade and the moon light the waters again as tomorrow is a new day. Cheers! Dee

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Easing Death

Posted on September 25, 2015 | Leave a comment

The baby mouse died overnight. Bringing the baby into the house wouldn’t have helped. He/she was the runt or fell out of the nest and unless mama came to the rescue, it was death. The tissue box was crumpled, the towel on the sidewalk and the poor baby was dead at seven when I went out. Something in me knew he would die and I wanted him warm and out of the wind.

My mother died at hospice seven years ago this weekend. All the kids and my husband gathered ’round for a week and told old family stories while the morphine levels went high enough to kill a horse. Mom was under 70 pounds by then but she was strong and though she could barely talk, when my husband’s chair went out from under and threatened to topple the tv and bookcase, I said “No need to trash the place” and she actually laughed. The only thing she ever said to me was “Get me some water, please.”

I arranged for a priest to come by for Last Rites. We all stood by her bed and told her that we loved her. Unbeknownst to me, my husband took her hand and said “I’ll take care of her.”

College did not prepare me for death, even though I took classes on Gerontology and learned the five stages of death. My husband is a tall, strong guy and was always called upon to be a pallbearer, even outside his family. He is used to funerals. I am not.

I decided to euthanize two of my old, sick pets, one Burmese cat who never let me get the last word in until the pink liquid did it’s deed; and a wonderful dog who stood up on the table five times to be with me after anaesthesia. Now this vet has a special wing for euthanasia and a panic button. I couldn’t call anyone because she would have fallen and I found out from the doc later that she’d already bled out.

Easing death. I don’t know how ours is to come. Dog Zoe’s 10 year senior blood panel was aced! I’m sure she’ll be around for another few years but we have an option. If her life is painful and not worth sticking around I can end it and be there to hold her, which will be heartbreaking. We cannot do that for our parents or my husband or me.

If your pet needs to go, please talk to your kids about in the most appropriate way for their age. Also let them know that pets are not easily replaced. One cannot replace a cancer-ridden Rover with a new pup River. Be with your pet. He/she has been a lifelong friend and companion. Make sure your vet knows the dosages and does as you ask. Spend time after your dear friend has gone and make sure you have the ashes to diss the park Nazis and donate to plant a tree and scatter the ashes. That’s what I did. Shhhhhhh……Never tell park nazis about ashes. Just give $100 and put in the ceremonial tree hole a little bit of the tennis ball my old dog Chani eviscerated two days before she died. Then get the neighbors together and scatter the ashes over her favorite places, play Nat King Cole and have neighbors water the tree. I never told you this.

The next hardest thing I had to do after Chani died was tell Jesse, age seven, ten feet from his brother behind the bushes (he cried) and I told him to tell his big brother and friends I yelled at him for something, so I called out “Don’t ever do that again!” at him when we re-entered the Park. Then I had to go out to the Park with my wonderful girl friend, to see our dog group. It was so great to do it the next day. If I’d waited it would have been horrible.

Everyone was waiting for me and it was easy, I got to go out days and see them and the dogs. Dogs led me to my boyfriend, husband and the “dog people” saw to it that we eloped in style.

The man who married us, I met him and his wife at the dog park. They were married 62 years before he died and was interred at Annapolis, where they first met. Mrs. H sure knows how to run a funeral, family, military moves, everything. At the reception in the hall where they met a fellow Naval officer gave a short speech to the Captain, then the “Admiral,” his wife. Later her eldest son got her to meet the Secretary of the Navy, who gave her a coin for her and her husband’s years of service.

Easing death. I’m about learning and teaching life. I now know that death is a part of it. Dee

ps, Mrs. H’s three sons all call me “sis.”

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From Sea to Sea

Posted on September 25, 2015 | Leave a comment

I remember sailing this leaky, 17′ day boat, my father’s dream. We’d go out when the wind quit around 1900 hours and Dad said “put down the centerboard, we’re gonna go like hell.” Uh, no, Dad. Let’s limp back to the dock.

The wind whispered otherwise. That boat broke our dock during bad weather several times and real sailors brought it back. They already knew who owned it and where we lived.

Another sailor tried to teach me how to fish. My brother and I took a ship across the Channel from Dover to Calais. With a guide, my brother and I did Class 5 rapids in the Adirondacks when we were young. I flipped out of the raft in an instant. The other raft saved me and afterwards we were stuck in an eddy and almost died. I didn’t know that until later, at lunch on an island and I passed the guides talking about how close we all came to death. I think that was the best canned chicken soup I ever had.

My husband and I went down a river in Texas with a guide at Class 3 rapids, years later. At 3,000 cfm (Army Corps of Engineers had to release excess water from a dam due to rainfall) we did a five-hour trip in two.

Sometimes I just make it through. I do get seasick and recommend sea bands, a pressure point wristband so you don’t need Dramamine or equivalent.

I made it through for my greatest challenge, marriage, 12 years ago. I asked a highly decorated Navy Captain (USN, Ret.) to marry us. He wrote our vows and took on the challenge. When he died we went to Annapolis to see him interred and his widow got to meet SecNav and received a coin.

I think my sea-worthiness is worth some sea-sickness. Ahoy, matey! Dee

ps You’re not getting married at sea, Miss M (it’s the last time I’ll be able to call you Miss), and I will not be there to meet your betrothed but you are in my heart and I want to see photos at Thanksgiving! Love from Cousin Dee

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Baby Mouse, Barbie House

Posted on September 25, 2015 | 1 comment

Yesterday I thought I saw a dead baby mouse after I picked up after our dog and properly disposed of her contribution. I kept Zoe away and the little thing raised its head.

When I was a little kid a mother mouse came in through the trunk of Mom’s car and had babies. My sister and I each took one and gave two to our neighbor boys. We were in the car at the store at the time so mama mouse never found her way back.

My sister’s died within the hour. They weren’t allowed inside so I made a nest in a coffee can and mine lasted 24 hours. The boys with the grassroots nature mom with seven dogs, many cats and a couple of horses saw them and immediately flushed them down the toilet. That was many years ago. I know if mama doesn’t come and pick up this stray newborn mouse tonight s/he is doomed.

My husband thought I was crazy but helped me anyway. I had an empty box of tissues ready for recycling and taped up one end. It’s getting colder here and I wanted the little one to be able to get in and out and be away from the wind.

I lined the bottom of the tissue box with a microcloth for warmth and when out there, filled a cap of a recycling Dr. Pepper bottle with some cream for sustenance. Now my father and in-laws are reading this. I did this for a purpose. Should I let this little one suffer? Others had seen the baby mouse but no-one helped it. I didn’t want human scent on it so my husband used a doggie poop bag to pick it up and place it in the temporary home.

The Pope is here. I missed his Congressional speech. I went to a Franciscan college and have even seen St. Francis’ robe in Siena but have yet to visit Assisi. For many years I’ve helped lost and surrendered animals. The baby mouse was just another endeavor, and all the four animals I adopted over 30 years were lost or surrendered to a shelter. All were spayed/neutered.

***

Ah, the Barbie House. My husband and I met 14 years ago. He’ll be away on a new assignment on that day. He lost his job as 1/3 of the company was laid off in one day. Yes, they left “Layoffs” on a white board in the conference room that was easily found by staff and my husband was one of the last hired so first to be let go.

He left to cut the money bleed and came back to a new job two weeks later. A month later he accompanied me on a pet walk (consultant and local pet sitter) and I found him a place to live about 1,000 feet from me.

Tons of steps. One car garage and if we were going to be together he needed a washer and dryer in the garage. He bought used for about $250. The deal was, I would get rid of his clean pile/dirty pile system and do his laundry if I could do mine. Of course we married a year later and will celebrate an anniversary soon.

Steps. I don’t remember how many. At least 14 to the front door. Garage/laundry, 19 steps to Barbie kitchen/dining/living. Curved staircase to office, only bath and MBR. Probably another 19 steps. My arthritis kicked in around the wedding and the steps were killing me.

I tried to make a pact but it didn’t work. If there’s a pile at the top of the stairs, bring it down to the living area or garage, wherever you’re going. If there is folded laundry on the first step up to the sleeping/office area, please bring it up and I’ll put it away.

He now asks to help with dishes as I’m washing the last one, or cooking when everything is ready to plate. The Barbie House was our first home. We met some great people there. Enjoy your Friday, I think we may head out to see some Fall leaves, after I check the mouse house in the morning light. Dee

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Barriers

Posted on September 24, 2015 | Leave a comment

I seek to break them. Sometimes I am only allowed to bend them. It took many years to find my voice. I was always told by my mother that I was never good enough, and why would a girlfriend in grade school invite me for a sleepover. Why would any high school friend invite me to a party, or a boy ask me out on a date?

People. I instantly connect. My brain just does it and if someone looks sad I say I love your shirt! Like the tie, where did you get it, my husband would look great in that tie. Sometimes it just snaps them out of a funky mood.

I know my first gay friend, but cannot tell you who he is. Accepting people for who they are is my nature, compounded by my great Aunt Rose who’s husband said if there’s a gay guy within 100 miles they’ll be here. Same with me. My husband’s family would be shocked, my husband knows me and probably likes that the guys I hang out with are gay and no threat to our marriage.

We take in “orphans” at Christmas, neighbors, adults who are single and who are new or have no family or have family far away and have to perform surgery tomorrow morning. It is a lot of work but I get to cook for so many interesting people over the years.

It is always refreshing to hear someone’s story and know where they came from and the life they’ve led.

I grew up in a small village. Dad was the first person in his family to ever go to college. He worked at the college that brought 1,000 students in every year to our village and was sent to get his Masters, then Doctorate. His accomplishments allowed us to leave that village and grow up in a different realm.

If we had not left the village, I’d have a bunch of kids and probably be divorced from a local boy. The world is a scary place, but thanks to Dad I’ve seen a lot of it. He’s getting older, but still protects his kids and grandkids.

Along the way I also met a husband who is my bling, all I have is one band of 18K gold to say we’re solid. No engagement ring. Yes, I’ve a Claddagh. I insisted against an engagement ring our first week of dating because it’s just not fair. He was Republican, I was a Democrat. We’re now Independent. Our neighbor won’t let him register (I agree). Barriers lifted.

Yes, there are still fiesty debates between me and his Fox News Channel father. Husband, brother and MIL all bow out and no-one comes to my defense. Hearty banter. I still have to to take our dog out and he has to take grain and hay to the cattle. Our Zoe stands up on his part of the living room sofa and awaits his return. I think he appreciates all of us. Barriers, I’m no longer called a Yankee and the Civil War is no longer The War of Northern Aggression. I’ve been assimilated, to a point. I love him. No harm, no foul. We never get angry.

I draw the line at reptiles and birds. We had a pact in our old neighborhood. I’d be called in for dogs and cats, and a friend would be called for birds and reptiles. Erecting barriers, but as it was all volunteer and took a lot of time it made sense to know our strengths and show them.

There are so many people over our lives from other cultures that we need to embrace. I think about Dad’s journey, those of my brother and sisters, my husband’s family. It really is one giant melting pot. As a cook I may liken it to a fondue with a lot of cheeses and dipping ingredients. Don’t get me started.

Think about a person in another country, another faith. Think about them having dinner as a family, with kids who need to do homework after the meal. As people, aren’t we all the same?

The wars our countries fight do not make any sense. They are barriers to us being people with families who just want to live another day. With faith and hope, Dee

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Richards

Posted on September 22, 2015 | Leave a comment

I’ve known a few, and all have been memorable. Somewhat.

The first is the grandfather I never met, who died six weeks before my birth. He played all kinds of musical instruments, especially taught the violin to Dad, and left us photos and memories.

One took us fishing off Montauk, Long Island NY where all I got were blowfish, and seasick. He died when I was 16, Dad got the call when we were out in the driveway with this huge RV going on vacation.

One took education at a national institution to another level. He has remained a friend and so was his father until his passing.

Can I include my father? His middle name is Richard, after his father. He has been a major influence in my life and work.

There was a man I never got to know, sadly, who left a great wife and family before he passed. His grand-daughter will be married next month and that would be a thrill for him, after the husband passed military muster!

There is a grandson who is named after his grandfather. I am lucky to know that young man. I believe he has a connection with Richard that no-one else has.

As to influence I reference another Richard, who has made a big difference in our family over the past 25+ years. After many years apart, we turned out to be neighbors. I recognized them, they recognized me, and it was all because of our dogs.

I’m including my brother. Richard is my brother’s middle name. I love my brother.

Look out for Richard’s. They may surprise you and be in your life forever! They will always be in mine. Dee

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Dear Postmaster General

Posted on September 22, 2015 | Leave a comment

Dear General Brennan,

I sent a very special package to my father in Indianapolis for his 84th birthday for delivery yesterday. It was sent priority mail and required a signature. I was told after many hours on the phone that the post office cannot deliver this package (they tried once at 1:18 p.m. yesterday) unless they place a coral form out for re-delivery.

My Dad flew today to the nation’s premier cancer center. I wanted him to have this gift yesterday. Now it is in limbo, as neither my post office nor Indianapolis will allow me to get it back or have someone else pick it up or send it to my Uncle in Indianapolis.

Dad may never come back. Your rules are archaic and cruel. He got the equivalent of a “gold watch” and I framed the article for him. Now USPS won’t send the package back to me, allow someone else to pick it up or allow receipt to a family member in his neighborhood. Tracking number is 9**************.

My Uncle, in Indianapolis, is willing to accept the package and give it to Dad if/when he returns from cancer treatment. If not I would like it released immediately to me at my home address, and before October 6 when they will return it anyway without ever having to try to re-deliver. We paid for priority mail and are being treated very badly by your system.

No matter how many ads you put on television, people appreciate and pay for service. My dog looks for blue pants with a dark stripe because she loves our postal carriers. They all know her. But the system is messed up.

My Uncle’s  residence is *****************************. He has arranged for me to send it there, if he or a member of his household over 18 years of age is present to sign for it.

I will have this letter notarized and hope it is enough to get this gift to my ailing father. With thanks for your consideration of my request. If not, I’m willing to get a court order to get this package back or drive to the post office that is holding my father’s gift, show my Passport and demand it back.

Dee

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Learning and Teaching

Posted on September 21, 2015 | Leave a comment

I’m getting older, but still like to learn something new every day, or every week.

Now I find myself teaching rather than learning and would love to keep doing both.

My father is older and he has always taught me. Perhaps I’ve taught him a few things over the years as well. My husband and I teach each other, and so do our families.

At my age, soon to change another year, I embrace teaching as well as learning. One learns wisdom, hopefully along with knowledge, throughout the years. I always think of myself as a young thirties thirsty for knowledge acolyte.

It is funny that I’ve always been a teacher, but never a real teacher. My aunts, professional English teachers, would be proud. They had a dictionary on top of the commode in the powder room (guest bath) and when I returned I had to have a word I’d never known, spelling, noun or verb and use it in a sentence.

Twice their age when they were teaching me, I’m teaching others. I’ve been doing so for decades, from kids learning gymnastics from me when I was 16 until now. I just didn’t recognize how much I had learned that I could offer others.

Retired, I only give guidance to those who appreciate and use it to their own ends. All volunteer, of course. I still love learning and will until my dying day. Cheers! Dee

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Welcoming

Posted on September 18, 2015 | Leave a comment

When did that go out of fashion? I like being out of fashion because I welcome new people. Where’s the cake one took to a new neighbor?  No-one cooks here.

I’ve moved with family many times and it was always a challenge going to a new school. As adults we have longer term engagements and it allows us to meet neighbors.

For our neighbors across the way, the day they moved in I offered a pot of Bolognese sauce, and a pot to cook pasta, and the pasta. I knew they wouldn’t have their kitchen set up in time so I set them up knowing they would be tired from the move.

Now their grandkids, when they visit, stand outside our door and whisper “Zoe” so they can take her out. So, I’ll get up early on a weekend and let them take the leash and walk with them. My husband has learned to twist balloons. He does it for these great kids.

I welcomed one Swedish neighbor who taught me how to make meatballs. I taught him Texas chili. Tomorrow I’m going to give him some chili. That’s how it goes.

Our dog Zoe thinks I’m essential to her food and walk routine, but boring. She takes care of the entire floor. Yesterday, she finally put a pup in its place. She’s our mascot, our 80 year-old Lady. Zoe told him not to bite her legs anymore. She would never bite anyone, a toddler could take out her food and she’d just look at me for more. She stood her ground and said “enough is enough.”

Being a good neighbor is more than welcoming new folks, its teaching Dog 101 and helping people with loss. Cooking for staff who wouldn’t eat otherwise. It’s about being….. Dee Cheers!

ps K, the new neighbor, saved Zoe’s life in an elevator incident. I thought Zoe was dead, but got back upstairs and K had her, safe and sound. She paid back that dinner 100 times. However many balloons or dog walks with the grandkids it will never be enough thanks to our neighbors.

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