Frankie: ...somthin'."
Me: (I'm making us sandwiches) "Yes?"
Frankie: "How come you keep putting the front heel of the bread back in with the loaf every time?"
Me: "I like a heel sandwich."
Frankie contemplates.
Frankie: "Do you realize how many times you touch that piece of bread?"
Me: "Uh-huh".
Frankie: "Well, that's just gross."
I'm sure you all remember my ramblings and rantings about how particular I am about my sandwiches, so I guess Frankie does have a valid point here. But, I plow on, smearing mustard c-l-e-a-r o-u-t and a little over the edge of each piece of bread.
Frankie: "No, honestly, why do you keep that heel of bread?"
Me: "Honestly? I like a heel sandwich. It's kind of like serendipity every one is a 'surprise accident'. They are never, ever the same. Sometimes the pieces fit together pretty well, sometimes one piece is huge and fat, while the other almost didn't make it through the automatic slicing machine and you get a lop-sided marvel."
Frankie: "Ugh, that's still gross. You've got one really germ laden piece and one pristine...how is that healthy?"
Me: "Probably isn't. Would you rather I shoved my hand down over all the pieces to pull the other heel out and have my heel sandwich first?"
Frankie shudders.
Frankie: "Wouldn't a half a heel sandwich work?"
Me: "No, My rational thinking is the front heel helps to keep the next piece of bread moist and fresh while the loaf gets eaten."
Unfortunately this made absolutely no sense to Frankie, I was beginning to think she was not going to eat her sandwich at all...maybe never eat a sandwich again. I had not intended to gross her out, and I decided maybe I was 'messed up' keeping that heel till it met the one on the other end. I mentally calculated the pros and cons. Even asked myself if I was the only one in the world that liked a heel sandwich. There have got to be others.
Eventually the pros won. After all, it's not like I don't wash my hands first, and there is always the fact I've been doing this my whole adult life without any bodily harm. Plus there's just something about the quaint, unusual excitement I get from a sandwich that on one side looks like the map of the United States while the other looks like India. Since I like my sandwiches full, top to bottom, end to end, I never know what's going to get all over my fingers. Sometimes it's a condiment, sometimes lettuce, cheese or maybe meat. Generally I eat the over-hanging part first, until the heels match so it looks like either the United States or India. Then, gulp that sucker...'er...sandwich down.
I wonder where I got the idea to make heel sandwiches, it had to come from somewhere...perhaps waaay back in my childhood. OOOOOH, I bet my mom made and ate heel sandwiches. Thanks, mom.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Saturday, July 28, 2012
These are a few of my...
...favorite smells.
Yesterday on facebook I posted 'I forgot how good a cup of black coffee tasted.' And, later in the day a dear friend posted how she remembered the smell of her grandfather's black coffee, ending with a sigh. I think it made her a bit melancholy, rekindling old, but pleasant memories.
This got me to thinking about the play "Our Town" in which Emily, who dies during childbirth, laments about the things she will miss and is sorrowful she will..."never smell heliotrope again." How I forget, or don't seem to have the time to breathe in my favorite scents, deeply, joyously every single day...it's free, and takes so little time...why don't I just lean over, and smell my favorite rose?
This morning I seemed to recall I once wrote a list of some of my favorite smells and I began rummaging through my mountain of things I've jotted down over the years and found it...boy aren't you lucky? Here it is:
Tomato plants
Cinnamon
Bread baking
Home made vegetable soup
pumpkin pie
lilacs
lily-of-the valley
arbutus
vanilla
rubber erasers
spice cake
freshly cut cedar boughs
heliotrope
a baby's breath
roasting turkey
April rain
ozone
...oh, I could go on and on, but sadly, this was the end of my actual written list.
I'm sure all of you must at least have a mental list of your own favorite smells, if you don't I hope you'll start one. Nothing on my list has changed, even though it's been years since I've looked at it, and nothing on it surprised me. All bring back good, sweet, wonderful memories. Why I don't continue to add to it is a mystery? I should you know, because I don't want to be like Emily, and lament I didn't have or take the time...'to smell the heliotrope again'.
Life is short. Breathe deeply, dear friends...breathe deeply.
Yesterday on facebook I posted 'I forgot how good a cup of black coffee tasted.' And, later in the day a dear friend posted how she remembered the smell of her grandfather's black coffee, ending with a sigh. I think it made her a bit melancholy, rekindling old, but pleasant memories.
This got me to thinking about the play "Our Town" in which Emily, who dies during childbirth, laments about the things she will miss and is sorrowful she will..."never smell heliotrope again." How I forget, or don't seem to have the time to breathe in my favorite scents, deeply, joyously every single day...it's free, and takes so little time...why don't I just lean over, and smell my favorite rose?
This morning I seemed to recall I once wrote a list of some of my favorite smells and I began rummaging through my mountain of things I've jotted down over the years and found it...boy aren't you lucky? Here it is:
Tomato plants
Cinnamon
Bread baking
Home made vegetable soup
pumpkin pie
lilacs
lily-of-the valley
arbutus
vanilla
rubber erasers
spice cake
freshly cut cedar boughs
heliotrope
a baby's breath
roasting turkey
April rain
ozone
...oh, I could go on and on, but sadly, this was the end of my actual written list.
I'm sure all of you must at least have a mental list of your own favorite smells, if you don't I hope you'll start one. Nothing on my list has changed, even though it's been years since I've looked at it, and nothing on it surprised me. All bring back good, sweet, wonderful memories. Why I don't continue to add to it is a mystery? I should you know, because I don't want to be like Emily, and lament I didn't have or take the time...'to smell the heliotrope again'.
Life is short. Breathe deeply, dear friends...breathe deeply.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Giggles
I'm sure you've heard I ordered four pair of, black, size small, slippers through one of the many catalogs I get by the week, and when they arrived earlier this week, Frankie and I have a huge laugh over the fact they were, long, flat, and waaaay too big. I checked the label, they actually are size small although, they actually look like the deck of an air-craft carrier, long, square-ish and very, very flat.
Frankie immediately said to re-pack them into their envelop (yes, they came in an envelop)...which should have been my first clue they were not going to look like the colorful picture in the catalog...but, I said, "No, that will probably cost more than what I paid for the slippers in the first place, and would probably not get my refund until mid-2013." So, I began shlucking around the house with the carriers on my feet. THEY ARE HUGE and I had to be very careful the front end didn't not fold back, and trip me. Still, they were cheap...what should I expect...shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Well, of course, Frankie has been in a state ever since. The minute I come within her line of vision she goes into a fit of giggles. So much so, I can't help but giggle myself. It is amazing what a source of entertainment these stupid slippers have become.
Finally, in order to make them 'fit better', I took an old pair of slippers, cut the soles off them, covered them with 'heavy day' pads, and put a pair of stocking like footies over the whole she-bang. On the plus side, they did help to make the slippers more sturdy, and I must confess although they don't look like they would really keep your piggies warm, in reality they do. However...giggle, giggle, giggle...on the minus side.. they also made them look even more like an air-craft carrier. Baaaa, haaaa, haaaa. At least they have a more solid soles so I don't worry as much about them tripping me any more but, the tiny bump where my foot actually is...looks sort of like a mole mound on a......well...................air-craft carrier. Baaaaa, haaaa, haaaaa.
My sister says I should post a picture on facebook, and I'm going to try to do that today. One foot will have a slipper on, the other a white footie, so you can compare. Oh, geeze, Frankie just came in the room and is leaning over my shoulder, she gonna...yep, she's almost ready...here it comes......giggles. Are we ever going to get over this blunder?
Probably not, since I bought four pair...they're cheap...not really well made...I'm thinking they won't last very long...but then again, maybe they will...I might not have to buy slippers for the rest of my life. Now there's a horrible thought...what if they out live me?
Oh, I'm going to have to go, Frankie and I are laughing so hard, I can't see to type any more. Teee, heee, teee, baaaaa, haaaa, haaaa.
Frankie immediately said to re-pack them into their envelop (yes, they came in an envelop)...which should have been my first clue they were not going to look like the colorful picture in the catalog...but, I said, "No, that will probably cost more than what I paid for the slippers in the first place, and would probably not get my refund until mid-2013." So, I began shlucking around the house with the carriers on my feet. THEY ARE HUGE and I had to be very careful the front end didn't not fold back, and trip me. Still, they were cheap...what should I expect...shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Well, of course, Frankie has been in a state ever since. The minute I come within her line of vision she goes into a fit of giggles. So much so, I can't help but giggle myself. It is amazing what a source of entertainment these stupid slippers have become.
Finally, in order to make them 'fit better', I took an old pair of slippers, cut the soles off them, covered them with 'heavy day' pads, and put a pair of stocking like footies over the whole she-bang. On the plus side, they did help to make the slippers more sturdy, and I must confess although they don't look like they would really keep your piggies warm, in reality they do. However...giggle, giggle, giggle...on the minus side.. they also made them look even more like an air-craft carrier. Baaaa, haaaa, haaaa. At least they have a more solid soles so I don't worry as much about them tripping me any more but, the tiny bump where my foot actually is...looks sort of like a mole mound on a......well...................air-craft carrier. Baaaaa, haaaa, haaaaa.
My sister says I should post a picture on facebook, and I'm going to try to do that today. One foot will have a slipper on, the other a white footie, so you can compare. Oh, geeze, Frankie just came in the room and is leaning over my shoulder, she gonna...yep, she's almost ready...here it comes......giggles. Are we ever going to get over this blunder?
Probably not, since I bought four pair...they're cheap...not really well made...I'm thinking they won't last very long...but then again, maybe they will...I might not have to buy slippers for the rest of my life. Now there's a horrible thought...what if they out live me?
Oh, I'm going to have to go, Frankie and I are laughing so hard, I can't see to type any more. Teee, heee, teee, baaaaa, haaaa, haaaa.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Caw, caw, caw.
Well, it's over a year now since I stopped feeding the birds, Crows in particular, thanks to Bird Lady. I'm pretty sure that once I stopped throwing seed out she thought they would magically move on to another neighborhood. What a joke, there's a middle school within spittin' distance and a fast food place just round the bend. Both scream....free food, free food.
Just this morning a Crow was sitting on the wires in front of my place, I wondered if it had a vague memory of the 'old lady' that used to put seed, bread, and left-overs on the driveway for them to enjoy. I know I miss those days.
Also, and of course, she insisted I was the source of all the rats in the neighborhood, even though every evening, rain or shine, I would take my broom and dust pan out and sweep up any leftover debris from the days larder. Guess what? The Crows are still around, and it's the time of year for their young to be out on their own, and the parents are trying to teach them to fend for themselves full time...what a clatter...their chatter this morning must be driving Bird Lady insane...(sooo many things I could write here...but I won't.)
Plus, and although I personally have not seen one myself, my neighbors report there are still rats around.
Sooo sorry Bird Lady, not my fault. I think as long as there are wood piles, patches overgrown with blackberries, morning glories, and other unkempt vegetation, they will continue to nest here. It's the circle of life.
I am glad to know I was not 100% responsible for the Crow and rat problems we allegedly have, as I believe nature is going to do what nature is going to do. Both Crows and rats were here long before I arrived in the neighborhood, and I suspect they will be here long after.
I miss not being able to watch the birds feed, so many species came to visit...a colorful array, each with their own beautiful music. In addition to the Crows there was the squawk of Stellar and Scrub Jays, coos of the Mourning Doves, chirps and tweets of Junkos, Wrens, Sparrows, and Towhees, while Pileated Woodpeckers hammered on metal stove pipes, telephone poles and tree trunks their tap-pity, tap, tap resounding through the air. And, once, for about a week a beautiful Pheasant, regally strutted through the neighborhood, plumage bright and glorious.
But, life is what it is, and time has moved on...I still have an ache in my heart some days missing the personal association I had with my feathered friends, thanks Bird Lady...so I gratefully appreciate those occasions when a Crow, stops by to say howdy. Gotta ya' Bird Lady...Got ya'.
Just this morning a Crow was sitting on the wires in front of my place, I wondered if it had a vague memory of the 'old lady' that used to put seed, bread, and left-overs on the driveway for them to enjoy. I know I miss those days.
Also, and of course, she insisted I was the source of all the rats in the neighborhood, even though every evening, rain or shine, I would take my broom and dust pan out and sweep up any leftover debris from the days larder. Guess what? The Crows are still around, and it's the time of year for their young to be out on their own, and the parents are trying to teach them to fend for themselves full time...what a clatter...their chatter this morning must be driving Bird Lady insane...(sooo many things I could write here...but I won't.)
Plus, and although I personally have not seen one myself, my neighbors report there are still rats around.
Sooo sorry Bird Lady, not my fault. I think as long as there are wood piles, patches overgrown with blackberries, morning glories, and other unkempt vegetation, they will continue to nest here. It's the circle of life.
I am glad to know I was not 100% responsible for the Crow and rat problems we allegedly have, as I believe nature is going to do what nature is going to do. Both Crows and rats were here long before I arrived in the neighborhood, and I suspect they will be here long after.
I miss not being able to watch the birds feed, so many species came to visit...a colorful array, each with their own beautiful music. In addition to the Crows there was the squawk of Stellar and Scrub Jays, coos of the Mourning Doves, chirps and tweets of Junkos, Wrens, Sparrows, and Towhees, while Pileated Woodpeckers hammered on metal stove pipes, telephone poles and tree trunks their tap-pity, tap, tap resounding through the air. And, once, for about a week a beautiful Pheasant, regally strutted through the neighborhood, plumage bright and glorious.
But, life is what it is, and time has moved on...I still have an ache in my heart some days missing the personal association I had with my feathered friends, thanks Bird Lady...so I gratefully appreciate those occasions when a Crow, stops by to say howdy. Gotta ya' Bird Lady...Got ya'.
Monday, July 23, 2012
If only
I got to thinking about 'if only' early this morning, and wondered how many times I might have said that in my 74 years. I could not think of one time...that's pretty amazing...and this led me to something I've said to my kids since eternity.
Go where you want to go,
Do what you want to do,
See what you want to see,
And you will never live your life with regret.
In other words, there won't be any 'if only' seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years in your life.
And, there won't be any of those could have, should have, would have moments either. Your life will be full of sites explored, challenges met, and visions in you mental photo albums and scrap books to keep your children, and their children wondering how you ever had the time to go, do and see everything you did.
Funny really, how your life is filled with all those moments. Mine sometimes take my breath away.
I remember walking to work one morning, turning on the radio there, and hearing President Kennedy had been shot and killed. I remember the morning I turned on the television, and I saw the second plane hit the second tower. I remember the first time I saw a man walk on the moon.
I remember the first time I smelled the ocean before I ever saw it. I remember the first time I saw a robin's egg. I remember the first time I ever tasted orange sherbet.
I remember the first time I whacked a mole on the head with a shovel, watched a squirrel wrestle with cherry tree branches in an attempt to make a nest, and even bury a beloved pet in the back yard.
I learned to crochet, paint with watercolor, walk a mile, sip Jim Beam, to say I love you to everyone I do, and...do it as often as I possibly can.
I re-learned to eat junk food, watch TV during the day...and sometimes even fall asleep for a quick nap, laugh, hardy, long and sometimes even loud.
I found I'm forgetting things...mostly stuff I don't really want to remember in the first place, there is joy in putting my feet on the floor every morning, and that the best things in life really are free. All I have to do is
Go where I want to go,
Do what I want to do,
And, see what I want to see,
Honest, I have no regrets and I can't think of one single 'if only' moment in my life.
Go where you want to go,
Do what you want to do,
See what you want to see,
And you will never live your life with regret.
In other words, there won't be any 'if only' seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years in your life.
And, there won't be any of those could have, should have, would have moments either. Your life will be full of sites explored, challenges met, and visions in you mental photo albums and scrap books to keep your children, and their children wondering how you ever had the time to go, do and see everything you did.
Funny really, how your life is filled with all those moments. Mine sometimes take my breath away.
I remember walking to work one morning, turning on the radio there, and hearing President Kennedy had been shot and killed. I remember the morning I turned on the television, and I saw the second plane hit the second tower. I remember the first time I saw a man walk on the moon.
I remember the first time I smelled the ocean before I ever saw it. I remember the first time I saw a robin's egg. I remember the first time I ever tasted orange sherbet.
I remember the first time I whacked a mole on the head with a shovel, watched a squirrel wrestle with cherry tree branches in an attempt to make a nest, and even bury a beloved pet in the back yard.
I learned to crochet, paint with watercolor, walk a mile, sip Jim Beam, to say I love you to everyone I do, and...do it as often as I possibly can.
I re-learned to eat junk food, watch TV during the day...and sometimes even fall asleep for a quick nap, laugh, hardy, long and sometimes even loud.
I found I'm forgetting things...mostly stuff I don't really want to remember in the first place, there is joy in putting my feet on the floor every morning, and that the best things in life really are free. All I have to do is
Go where I want to go,
Do what I want to do,
And, see what I want to see,
Honest, I have no regrets and I can't think of one single 'if only' moment in my life.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Whew....
Man, it has been a darn busy two days.
Sometimes I don't know where the time goes. I've been busy working on a new project for Gues Who Originals, and futzing a bit in the yard, too. I probably shouldn't tell you how out of control my gardens are...but trust me they are.
This afternoon I decided it was time to move some rocks. Baaaaahaaaaahaaaa. Again...I'm moving rocks. Over the years I have moved tons of them and that is no joke. Before several of our house were built the area was a marsh...well, almost mini-swamp...and truck loads of rock were brought in to fill the marsh in, and then more truck loads of top soil were brought in to cover up the rocks. The far south-west corner of the back yard barely dries up before the fall rains begin...but I digress.
Anyway, after we bought the house, I decided I needed a vegetable garden, and flower gardens. Lots, and lots of flower gardens and so it was I began to dig, and dig, and dig, and dig. At the time I didn't know about the rocks and top soil, so I was quite surprised that with every shovel full of dirt I also I uncovered a rock. What was I going to do with all these rocks? Ah ha...I will use the rocks for borders of the gardens. Holy cow! I began to unearth boulders. Honest...they were boulders upwards of 75 to 100 pounds easy. They were too heavy to lift so I got very good at rolling them in awkward end over end til I got them where I wanted them to be. Oh, my goodness, very strenuous labor.
When I was finally happy with the end results, and the gardens got finished that fall, I counted my blessings I would never move another rock again.
THEN WE BOUGHT THE BACK LOT.
Paul decided we needed to move the rocks from the front yard and up-grade to something more 'classy' and by now I learned that having a vegetable garden in Oregon was not a very fruitful endeavor so I decided to give up gardening and move those rocks as well. So, I would load up my Radio Red Flyer Wagon...and off I would go to the back lot, load after weary load of rocks. Finally only the boulders remained...end over ending I went again. Whew.
Years went by I was happy, the rocks were happy. When Paul passed away I sold the back lot, and most of the rocks and boulders went with it. I was thankful I would never have to move those rocks again...well, except for a few I really, really liked, and I kinda, sorta confiscated before the sale of the lot was final. Sadly, they were boulder size, so I end over ended them one more time to the back yard AGAIN. I must be nuts.
Years ago my gardener created a pea-gravel sidewalk that goes the length of the back of the house, around to a small patio (he created that, too). He also bought some larger round river rocks and kind of strew them hither and yon along the sidewalk, it looked great. Until last year when I noticed they were beginning to sink into the soil, I spent a day lifting the majority of them up, smoothed out the pits, and re-set them where they were, except for the damp corner of the yard that I totally ignored.
Okay, again, happy rocks, happy me. Sigh...until today. Yep, I got a bug up my butt...and decided it was time to move rocks. Remember the damp south-west corner of my back yard. Pitiful, pitiful spot. I grab my kneeling pillow and set to work. I use my weed-pulling tool to get them loose, as some were three quarters buried in dirt (thank you moles). I make a nice border, and I'm hoping to let a shrub overtake that area and be done with it. I'm down to my last rock...wouldn't you just know it...it's 75 pound boulder. First I have to dig it out...then I manage to get a shovel under it, and swing it out of the deepest part of the hole and away from my neighbor's fence. I'm finally able to get a good grasp, and start the end over end process. One side of it is covered with a lovely moss and I want that on the out-side, and maneuver it into place.
I'm pretty pleased with myself. I swing my birdbath into the same area and stand back to admire. Whooo, hooo. Please, Lord...I never, ever want to move a rock again.
Let's hope the rocks are happy, I know I am.
Sometimes I don't know where the time goes. I've been busy working on a new project for Gues Who Originals, and futzing a bit in the yard, too. I probably shouldn't tell you how out of control my gardens are...but trust me they are.
This afternoon I decided it was time to move some rocks. Baaaaahaaaaahaaaa. Again...I'm moving rocks. Over the years I have moved tons of them and that is no joke. Before several of our house were built the area was a marsh...well, almost mini-swamp...and truck loads of rock were brought in to fill the marsh in, and then more truck loads of top soil were brought in to cover up the rocks. The far south-west corner of the back yard barely dries up before the fall rains begin...but I digress.
Anyway, after we bought the house, I decided I needed a vegetable garden, and flower gardens. Lots, and lots of flower gardens and so it was I began to dig, and dig, and dig, and dig. At the time I didn't know about the rocks and top soil, so I was quite surprised that with every shovel full of dirt I also I uncovered a rock. What was I going to do with all these rocks? Ah ha...I will use the rocks for borders of the gardens. Holy cow! I began to unearth boulders. Honest...they were boulders upwards of 75 to 100 pounds easy. They were too heavy to lift so I got very good at rolling them in awkward end over end til I got them where I wanted them to be. Oh, my goodness, very strenuous labor.
When I was finally happy with the end results, and the gardens got finished that fall, I counted my blessings I would never move another rock again.
THEN WE BOUGHT THE BACK LOT.
Paul decided we needed to move the rocks from the front yard and up-grade to something more 'classy' and by now I learned that having a vegetable garden in Oregon was not a very fruitful endeavor so I decided to give up gardening and move those rocks as well. So, I would load up my Radio Red Flyer Wagon...and off I would go to the back lot, load after weary load of rocks. Finally only the boulders remained...end over ending I went again. Whew.
Years went by I was happy, the rocks were happy. When Paul passed away I sold the back lot, and most of the rocks and boulders went with it. I was thankful I would never have to move those rocks again...well, except for a few I really, really liked, and I kinda, sorta confiscated before the sale of the lot was final. Sadly, they were boulder size, so I end over ended them one more time to the back yard AGAIN. I must be nuts.
Years ago my gardener created a pea-gravel sidewalk that goes the length of the back of the house, around to a small patio (he created that, too). He also bought some larger round river rocks and kind of strew them hither and yon along the sidewalk, it looked great. Until last year when I noticed they were beginning to sink into the soil, I spent a day lifting the majority of them up, smoothed out the pits, and re-set them where they were, except for the damp corner of the yard that I totally ignored.
Okay, again, happy rocks, happy me. Sigh...until today. Yep, I got a bug up my butt...and decided it was time to move rocks. Remember the damp south-west corner of my back yard. Pitiful, pitiful spot. I grab my kneeling pillow and set to work. I use my weed-pulling tool to get them loose, as some were three quarters buried in dirt (thank you moles). I make a nice border, and I'm hoping to let a shrub overtake that area and be done with it. I'm down to my last rock...wouldn't you just know it...it's 75 pound boulder. First I have to dig it out...then I manage to get a shovel under it, and swing it out of the deepest part of the hole and away from my neighbor's fence. I'm finally able to get a good grasp, and start the end over end process. One side of it is covered with a lovely moss and I want that on the out-side, and maneuver it into place.
I'm pretty pleased with myself. I swing my birdbath into the same area and stand back to admire. Whooo, hooo. Please, Lord...I never, ever want to move a rock again.
Let's hope the rocks are happy, I know I am.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
...so, just who's in charge here.
Dang it. I'm having a problem with those itsy-bitsy ants again. For some reason they have fallen in love with the cat food. I came out to the kitchen a few days ago and found CC's kibble bowl covered with them. I put the bowl in the sink and ran the hottest water I have over it...flooded it...and watched those sucks, die, die, die. I know, that was cruel. Some of them tried to escape and I gave those stragglers the old 'squash with the thumb' treatment. I do not like any kind of bugs in my house. Especially the Granddaddy Long Legs that get in my tub and can't get out. Sorry, I digressed.
Back to the ants. I decided the best way of getting rid of them was to spray along their path on wall with Raid. The spray can states it does not smell...well, it kind of doesn't...still kind of does, but it worked and I am happy. I know those little rascals will be back when the spray dissipates and decide that at night I will simply put CC's bowl in a plastic zip bag and store it in a cupboard til morning.
The first nigh all went well.
But...ohhhh, last night was a night from He-double hockey-sticks.
Time after time CC came into the bedroom to bug me, I knew she wanted her bowl of kibble.
Hey...who's in charge here...me, right?
Zorro and I try to ignore her. She lays on my chest for about ten minutes and then jumps off the bed. I'm just about back to sleep when she jumps back on. Zorro is getting very annoyed, and even starts to growl at her presence.
This goes on till 4:36...finally I could not take the torture any more. I sit up, flick on the light and announce to Zorro 'I can'ts stans this no mores.' I put on my slippers, go to the kitchen and get out CC's kibble bowl. Then in a very loud, and annoyed voice I repeat over and over...kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, until I see her zooming from where ever she had been to come and eat.
Zorro and I head back to bed...I must get some sleep. CC never bothers us again.
So guess who's in charge? It certainly isn't me.
Insert a very tired person's sigh here.
Back to the ants. I decided the best way of getting rid of them was to spray along their path on wall with Raid. The spray can states it does not smell...well, it kind of doesn't...still kind of does, but it worked and I am happy. I know those little rascals will be back when the spray dissipates and decide that at night I will simply put CC's bowl in a plastic zip bag and store it in a cupboard til morning.
The first nigh all went well.
But...ohhhh, last night was a night from He-double hockey-sticks.
Time after time CC came into the bedroom to bug me, I knew she wanted her bowl of kibble.
Hey...who's in charge here...me, right?
Zorro and I try to ignore her. She lays on my chest for about ten minutes and then jumps off the bed. I'm just about back to sleep when she jumps back on. Zorro is getting very annoyed, and even starts to growl at her presence.
This goes on till 4:36...finally I could not take the torture any more. I sit up, flick on the light and announce to Zorro 'I can'ts stans this no mores.' I put on my slippers, go to the kitchen and get out CC's kibble bowl. Then in a very loud, and annoyed voice I repeat over and over...kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, until I see her zooming from where ever she had been to come and eat.
Zorro and I head back to bed...I must get some sleep. CC never bothers us again.
So guess who's in charge? It certainly isn't me.
Insert a very tired person's sigh here.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Ode...
...to a Brussels Sprout
Your smell is quite peculiar
and you taste like dirty socks;
Your name is 'lace' and 'quickly grown'
by Webster's happenstance.
You look quite odd, while earthly bound
and you're an UGLY shade of green;
When the east wind get a blowin'
you sure do start to lean.
Most people say you're "yucky"
though for me, I don't agree;
When drenched in herb and creamy cheese
I happily devour thee.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
It's Friday evening....
"FRANKIE.....COME HERE....QUICK."
She dashes into the kitchen.
"WHAT?????" (She yells back.)
Me: "Taste this."
Frankie looks at me as though I have finally gone mad. I'm trying to coax her to taste a hunk of tomato.
Frankie: "It's a tomato, I know what a tomato tastes like."
Me: "No you don't. Really, please taste this."
Frankie, takes the hunk from my hand and chews.
Frankie let's out a long, satisfying, "Woooooooah. So...THAT'S what a real tomato tastes like. Woooah."
I smile with great joy. Yes, I have in my hand an honest to goodness tomato. Not the leather bound kind with hollow spots where juice should be, and seeds stuck together as though they could not survive without each other and a kind of chemical smell and (sometimes) taste, too. THIS IS an honest to goodness, soft skinned, full of juice, seeds swimming in it, vegetable smelling, tomato. "Oh, thank you God."
Frankie and I are full of delight; I divide the tomato in half and we watch the juice of it spread across the kitchen counter. She is amazed...has never seen anything like it and reaches for her half.
"Wait," I tell her "the best is yet to come." I go to my condiment shelf and grab the salt shaker and pour salt all over both halves. "Now, take another bite."
She does. I wish I could adequately tell you the look that came over her face. Pure joy, is what it was, I think maybe explorers got that look when they discovered new land.
By now juice is running down our hands and sneaking past our wrists. Neither of us speak. We just eat.
Bliss, bliss, bliss.
Why can't stores have these kinds of tomatoes all the time? I look at the label to see where it is grown. I suspect some country I have never even heard of. The tag is very simple PU#3151...are you ready for this...I wasn't....PRODUCT OF USA. Ohhhh, my goodness. Thank you Safeway and whatever farmer grew these beautiful, round, juicy, soft-skinned produce. I wish I had bought a dozen, as I doubt I will have another batch of tomatoes like this again in my lifetime.
Frankie and I are ecstatic and swear to make these tomatoes last by to doling them out on salads and sandwiches, in order to make them last as long as possible. However, I sense that is not going to work, because we devoured another one of them yesterday.
Shoot!
She dashes into the kitchen.
"WHAT?????" (She yells back.)
Me: "Taste this."
Frankie looks at me as though I have finally gone mad. I'm trying to coax her to taste a hunk of tomato.
Frankie: "It's a tomato, I know what a tomato tastes like."
Me: "No you don't. Really, please taste this."
Frankie, takes the hunk from my hand and chews.
Frankie let's out a long, satisfying, "Woooooooah. So...THAT'S what a real tomato tastes like. Woooah."
I smile with great joy. Yes, I have in my hand an honest to goodness tomato. Not the leather bound kind with hollow spots where juice should be, and seeds stuck together as though they could not survive without each other and a kind of chemical smell and (sometimes) taste, too. THIS IS an honest to goodness, soft skinned, full of juice, seeds swimming in it, vegetable smelling, tomato. "Oh, thank you God."
Frankie and I are full of delight; I divide the tomato in half and we watch the juice of it spread across the kitchen counter. She is amazed...has never seen anything like it and reaches for her half.
"Wait," I tell her "the best is yet to come." I go to my condiment shelf and grab the salt shaker and pour salt all over both halves. "Now, take another bite."
She does. I wish I could adequately tell you the look that came over her face. Pure joy, is what it was, I think maybe explorers got that look when they discovered new land.
By now juice is running down our hands and sneaking past our wrists. Neither of us speak. We just eat.
Bliss, bliss, bliss.
Why can't stores have these kinds of tomatoes all the time? I look at the label to see where it is grown. I suspect some country I have never even heard of. The tag is very simple PU#3151...are you ready for this...I wasn't....PRODUCT OF USA. Ohhhh, my goodness. Thank you Safeway and whatever farmer grew these beautiful, round, juicy, soft-skinned produce. I wish I had bought a dozen, as I doubt I will have another batch of tomatoes like this again in my lifetime.
Frankie and I are ecstatic and swear to make these tomatoes last by to doling them out on salads and sandwiches, in order to make them last as long as possible. However, I sense that is not going to work, because we devoured another one of them yesterday.
Shoot!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Talk about ramblings
I woke this morning with a jumble of thoughts. Ramblings....
I thought about my mom, and how frugal she was. I remember how we would turn over sofa and chair cushions trying to find a quarter that (maybe, hopefully) might have fallen out of my dad's pants pockets so we could go to Lopresti's Market for a quart of milk and a loaf of bread. Lopresti's Market was at the end of our street, a tiny place to be sure, but delightful. On shopping days mom would grab our Red Flyer wagon and off we would go to Lopresti's. She would line us up on their porch, threaten that if we embarrassed her she would do horrible things to us and disappear inside the store.
Mom had an 'account' there, and if money ran out before the end of the month, and we could find no quarters hidden neath the cushions she could put that quart of milk or loaf of bread on 'account' til payday.
Like Momma, from the movie, and early TV show 'I Remember Momma' who always said, "It's good we don't have to go to the bank." (There wasn't one). So it was Mom was always grateful that she did not often have to put anything on her account. We eventually got old enough to go to Lopresti's by ourselves for those end of the month necessities. That's how I fell off my bike...lugging a bag of groceries home, steering on handed. I still have gravel in my knee from that tumble.
Some years later an A&P supermarket opened across and slightly up the street from Lopersti's. Ohhhh, the marvel, rows, and rows of wonderful merchandise. Things we had never, ever seen before. But, know what I remember most? A freebie at the checkout stand. There was always a stack of thin magazines, called Family Circle, and Woman's Day. We frequently brought them home. They were filled mostly with beautiful pictures of food and the recipes to make quick, inexpensive meals for the family.
After a while they carried a price tag...a whole nickle...we didn't bring them home any more.
Although the supermarket was now the place mom shopped (prices were generally cheaper), we still had that precious account at Lopresti's. Mostly, we neighborhood kids frequented that store for candy or an ice cream bar. I also learned much later in life, some of us (I won't mention names) apparently found Lopresti's a great store for 'shop-lifting'...I swear I was not one of them. Poor, Lopresti's.
A few years back I Googled Lopresti's and found they had moved to a larger location, but had recently closed for good...I assume they could no longer compete with the Albertson's, A&P's, and Safeway stores. Sad mom and pop stores are disappearing.
Finally today I decided to give Lopresti's one final Google. Yes, the store is gone...but also, here is what I found.
.
May 11, 2010
I thought about my mom, and how frugal she was. I remember how we would turn over sofa and chair cushions trying to find a quarter that (maybe, hopefully) might have fallen out of my dad's pants pockets so we could go to Lopresti's Market for a quart of milk and a loaf of bread. Lopresti's Market was at the end of our street, a tiny place to be sure, but delightful. On shopping days mom would grab our Red Flyer wagon and off we would go to Lopresti's. She would line us up on their porch, threaten that if we embarrassed her she would do horrible things to us and disappear inside the store.
Mom had an 'account' there, and if money ran out before the end of the month, and we could find no quarters hidden neath the cushions she could put that quart of milk or loaf of bread on 'account' til payday.
Like Momma, from the movie, and early TV show 'I Remember Momma' who always said, "It's good we don't have to go to the bank." (There wasn't one). So it was Mom was always grateful that she did not often have to put anything on her account. We eventually got old enough to go to Lopresti's by ourselves for those end of the month necessities. That's how I fell off my bike...lugging a bag of groceries home, steering on handed. I still have gravel in my knee from that tumble.
Some years later an A&P supermarket opened across and slightly up the street from Lopersti's. Ohhhh, the marvel, rows, and rows of wonderful merchandise. Things we had never, ever seen before. But, know what I remember most? A freebie at the checkout stand. There was always a stack of thin magazines, called Family Circle, and Woman's Day. We frequently brought them home. They were filled mostly with beautiful pictures of food and the recipes to make quick, inexpensive meals for the family.
After a while they carried a price tag...a whole nickle...we didn't bring them home any more.
Although the supermarket was now the place mom shopped (prices were generally cheaper), we still had that precious account at Lopresti's. Mostly, we neighborhood kids frequented that store for candy or an ice cream bar. I also learned much later in life, some of us (I won't mention names) apparently found Lopresti's a great store for 'shop-lifting'...I swear I was not one of them. Poor, Lopresti's.
A few years back I Googled Lopresti's and found they had moved to a larger location, but had recently closed for good...I assume they could no longer compete with the Albertson's, A&P's, and Safeway stores. Sad mom and pop stores are disappearing.
Finally today I decided to give Lopresti's one final Google. Yes, the store is gone...but also, here is what I found.
.
May 11, 2010Joseph A. Lopresti
GEISTOWN — LOPRESTI – Joseph A., 90, Geistown, died May 11, 2010, at Memorial Medical Center. Born Feb. 3, 1920, in Johnstown, son of the late Vincenzo and Vincenza (Sunseri) Lopresti. Also preceded in death by brothers, August, Phillip and Jack, and sisters, Marian, Josephine and Marie Brendel. Survived by wife of 63 years, the former Mary Kooney; these daughters: Deborah, wife of Charles Cowan, Johnstown; Rita, wife of James Hagedorn, Cherry Hill, N.J.; Lorena Nadine Golias, Johnstown; and Molly, wife of Mike Strayer, Elkton, Md.; grandchildren, Theresa, Leona, Bob, Christopher, Kelly, Tony and Jimmy; sister, Jelorma, wife of Dominic DeMario, Johnstown; great-granddaughter, McKenzie; and numerous nieces and nephews. A 1938 graduate of Johnstown High School. World War II Army veteran of the South Pacific Theater. Retired owner/operator of Lopresti Market in Geistown for 66 years. Member of St. Benedict Catholic Church, Geistown, where funeral Mass will be held at 10 a.m. Saturday, Father David S. Peles, pastor. Committal, St. Anthony Cemetery. Friends received from 2 to 4 and 6 to 8 p.m. Friday at The Harris Funeral Home, 500 Cherry Lane, Richland. Family suggests that those who wish may contribute to St. Benedict’s Church, 2310 Bedford St., Johnstown, Pa. 15904 or Conemaugh Regional Hospice, 315 Locust St., Johnstown, Pa. 15901 in memory of Joseph A. Lopresti.
Times change, sometimes for the better sometimes not. Today, I have subscriptions for Family Circle and Woman's Day Magazines, they come right to my door. But, you know what...I miss those good old days when I could get them for free at the A&P.
Even more, I miss Lopresti's...Rest in peace Joseph, rest in peace.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Peanut, peanut butter
Okay....so not all of my ideas are good ones.
Take this morning for instance...I thought it would be a good idea to try something new. I frequently like a spoon full of peanut butter, just after I give Zorro his toy filled with it, and wondered..."Could I make peanut butter and jelly flavored coffee?" And, so I tried.
I think this could have worked if I had thought it out better, but I was in a hurry cause I need to make my bed before Zorro gets done licking the peanut butter out of his 'peanut butter toy'.
I hurriedly put the coffee/strawberry syrup into the microwave, and dashed off to make my bed. Returning to the kitchen I removed the hot coffee from the oven, and stirred in a spoonful of peanut butter. Ooops, I should have put the peanut butter in before putting the coffee/strawberry syrup into the microwave instead of trying to melt if after. It did not melt well, plus, I could only get a hint of the peanut butter, perhaps I should have used more. This was not the best cup of coffee in the world.
Anyway, I managed to almost drain the cup, except for the last couple of swallows. You know how you think you can down those last couple of gulps all at once? Don't...not if there is peanut butter in it...yuck...turns out a lot of it didn't dissolve at all.
Grossed me out...I was at that crucial point, the last gulp had filled my mouth...OH MY...do I gag, insuring this stuff will fly around the room, spit it into the sink, or swallow. I was sitting at my computer so gagging was out of the question...the nearest sink was waaay to far away, I had no choice I had to swallow...Don't even try to picture this...u--g--l--y. I could go into further description here but for your sake I won't. I will
however, close with a piece of advice...it's something the guys on Myth Busters say...all the time...
DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME.
Take this morning for instance...I thought it would be a good idea to try something new. I frequently like a spoon full of peanut butter, just after I give Zorro his toy filled with it, and wondered..."Could I make peanut butter and jelly flavored coffee?" And, so I tried.
I think this could have worked if I had thought it out better, but I was in a hurry cause I need to make my bed before Zorro gets done licking the peanut butter out of his 'peanut butter toy'.
I hurriedly put the coffee/strawberry syrup into the microwave, and dashed off to make my bed. Returning to the kitchen I removed the hot coffee from the oven, and stirred in a spoonful of peanut butter. Ooops, I should have put the peanut butter in before putting the coffee/strawberry syrup into the microwave instead of trying to melt if after. It did not melt well, plus, I could only get a hint of the peanut butter, perhaps I should have used more. This was not the best cup of coffee in the world.
Anyway, I managed to almost drain the cup, except for the last couple of swallows. You know how you think you can down those last couple of gulps all at once? Don't...not if there is peanut butter in it...yuck...turns out a lot of it didn't dissolve at all.
Grossed me out...I was at that crucial point, the last gulp had filled my mouth...OH MY...do I gag, insuring this stuff will fly around the room, spit it into the sink, or swallow. I was sitting at my computer so gagging was out of the question...the nearest sink was waaay to far away, I had no choice I had to swallow...Don't even try to picture this...u--g--l--y. I could go into further description here but for your sake I won't. I will
however, close with a piece of advice...it's something the guys on Myth Busters say...all the time...
DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Ole, ole!!!!!
You just never know when something funny is going to happen.
This morning's game of Hide and Seek with Zorro, had me almost rolling on the floor.
Summer has arrived (at least for this week) and I was in the process of opening up all the windows ending up in the sun room, and as Zorro is one very smart little doggie he knew Hide and Seek was about to begin. He ran back to the living room and got into position at the front door (farthest point from the sun room).
...I walk into his view, and he gives a little jump into action.
I announce "I'm going to get you."
He reacts by going around in circles. In the library I jump out of his view.
He barks. I hear his little toenails click-ity, clicking across the living room floor and down the hall.
I jump back into his line of view. This totally surprises him and he tries to stop; there is no traction point, the hall is tiled. He tries to gain control, but his back end is lighter than the front and they kind of double-up... he is running a-muck. He tries to stop by sitting down, which make his attempt look like some cartoon character trying to stop and get out of the way just before it knows it's going to get hit by an angry bull. Ole, Ole.
It takes a good two feet before he screeches to a halt.
Then...(silly boy) he tries to retreat. That means turning around in a very small area. Some how he manages this feat, and races back across the living room, round the corner into the dining area and disappears for a few seconds.
By now I'm laughing uncontrollably.
Zorro re-appears, lies (lays?) down, and (if he could talk) would have said,
"What the h--l??????? I did the Seek, how come you didn't Hide???????"...
Playing a trick on your dog...fun, fun, fun.
Having a double yourself over, laugh...makes you feel good.
Seeing a silly look on your dog's face...PRICELESS.
This morning's game of Hide and Seek with Zorro, had me almost rolling on the floor.
Summer has arrived (at least for this week) and I was in the process of opening up all the windows ending up in the sun room, and as Zorro is one very smart little doggie he knew Hide and Seek was about to begin. He ran back to the living room and got into position at the front door (farthest point from the sun room).
...I walk into his view, and he gives a little jump into action.
I announce "I'm going to get you."
He reacts by going around in circles. In the library I jump out of his view.
He barks. I hear his little toenails click-ity, clicking across the living room floor and down the hall.
I jump back into his line of view. This totally surprises him and he tries to stop; there is no traction point, the hall is tiled. He tries to gain control, but his back end is lighter than the front and they kind of double-up... he is running a-muck. He tries to stop by sitting down, which make his attempt look like some cartoon character trying to stop and get out of the way just before it knows it's going to get hit by an angry bull. Ole, Ole.
It takes a good two feet before he screeches to a halt.
Then...(silly boy) he tries to retreat. That means turning around in a very small area. Some how he manages this feat, and races back across the living room, round the corner into the dining area and disappears for a few seconds.
By now I'm laughing uncontrollably.
Zorro re-appears, lies (lays?) down, and (if he could talk) would have said,
"What the h--l??????? I did the Seek, how come you didn't Hide???????"...
Playing a trick on your dog...fun, fun, fun.
Having a double yourself over, laugh...makes you feel good.
Seeing a silly look on your dog's face...PRICELESS.
Frankie and me...
...or, should that be 'I'?
I guess since I've been writing about my little family I should include my dear companion, Frankie.
She came to live with us earlier this year. I don't know if I ever wrote how she came to live with us, (and maybe you don't even care)...well, tough...I'm going to tell you anyway.
Some months ago I responded on facebook to something one of my friend's, friend wrote as a response to his posting. (I frequently do this). Anyway, this particular person's screen name was a boy's name, and I thought this person actually was of the male gender. Turns out this person is a woman. I was totally embarrassed, but likewise enthralled. So, I posted on facebook I wanted a male nickname, too, and began a day long contest with my friends to find the perfect male name for me.
I eventually, thanks to my sister Linda, settled on Frankie. Mostly because Frank Sinatra is my all time favorite singer, but also because it felt good in my heart. And, simple as that, Frankie was born. I adore her she can say and do things Sandy never would, and turned out she's the perfect counter-balance in my life.
However, here's the scary part...I'M STARTING TO THINK SHE ACTUALLY EXISTS...we frequently converse, as you can attest to in my blog because I write our conversations here.
Yesterday, during Bible study, I happened to mention the conversation Frankie and I had earlier this week about what's important. Larraine and I had a good laugh over the fact I might be getting close to the edge and should some day be committed to an institution, save for the fact that she was intrigued by Frankie's final response.
Frankie said she thought the most important thing was to have 'just enough'. (I now pray for this every morning.) Larraine pondered this for a moment, and our conversation grew from that. She related her issue of the week was new flooring, and that she was going to have to accept her 'second' choice, and didn't even know what it was going to be because she didn't have the opportunity to see a sample. She took this information in stride. Larraine rents, but has said she would pay for half the materials and installation expense so I definitely thought she should have some say in what was installed.
Before our study began, her phone rang. It was her rental service, saying the second choice for flooring was presently not be available, so the job would have to wait. Larraine, said she would like to see what the home-owners thoughts were, and would call the service back. (Let me state here, Larraine had already boxed up everything in advance of the work to be done and was ready for the installation.) The home owner stated he did not have a problem with the original choice for flooring, the price was comparable, and "Let's go ahead with the work."
So, it turns out she is going to get what she wants, without ranting...without raving...creating a scene...but by being humble, accepting, and gracious. We decided, that she was blessed in the way the Lord took care of her, and gave her exactly what she wanted. 'He' had concluded her original choice was 'just enough' and gave her exactly that.
Thanks, Frankie for you wisdom. And...
Thank you, God, Larraine deserves 'just enough'.
I guess since I've been writing about my little family I should include my dear companion, Frankie.
She came to live with us earlier this year. I don't know if I ever wrote how she came to live with us, (and maybe you don't even care)...well, tough...I'm going to tell you anyway.
Some months ago I responded on facebook to something one of my friend's, friend wrote as a response to his posting. (I frequently do this). Anyway, this particular person's screen name was a boy's name, and I thought this person actually was of the male gender. Turns out this person is a woman. I was totally embarrassed, but likewise enthralled. So, I posted on facebook I wanted a male nickname, too, and began a day long contest with my friends to find the perfect male name for me.
I eventually, thanks to my sister Linda, settled on Frankie. Mostly because Frank Sinatra is my all time favorite singer, but also because it felt good in my heart. And, simple as that, Frankie was born. I adore her she can say and do things Sandy never would, and turned out she's the perfect counter-balance in my life.
However, here's the scary part...I'M STARTING TO THINK SHE ACTUALLY EXISTS...we frequently converse, as you can attest to in my blog because I write our conversations here.
Yesterday, during Bible study, I happened to mention the conversation Frankie and I had earlier this week about what's important. Larraine and I had a good laugh over the fact I might be getting close to the edge and should some day be committed to an institution, save for the fact that she was intrigued by Frankie's final response.
Frankie said she thought the most important thing was to have 'just enough'. (I now pray for this every morning.) Larraine pondered this for a moment, and our conversation grew from that. She related her issue of the week was new flooring, and that she was going to have to accept her 'second' choice, and didn't even know what it was going to be because she didn't have the opportunity to see a sample. She took this information in stride. Larraine rents, but has said she would pay for half the materials and installation expense so I definitely thought she should have some say in what was installed.
Before our study began, her phone rang. It was her rental service, saying the second choice for flooring was presently not be available, so the job would have to wait. Larraine, said she would like to see what the home-owners thoughts were, and would call the service back. (Let me state here, Larraine had already boxed up everything in advance of the work to be done and was ready for the installation.) The home owner stated he did not have a problem with the original choice for flooring, the price was comparable, and "Let's go ahead with the work."
So, it turns out she is going to get what she wants, without ranting...without raving...creating a scene...but by being humble, accepting, and gracious. We decided, that she was blessed in the way the Lord took care of her, and gave her exactly what she wanted. 'He' had concluded her original choice was 'just enough' and gave her exactly that.
Thanks, Frankie for you wisdom. And...
Thank you, God, Larraine deserves 'just enough'.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Kitty, kitty, kitty
I promised to write about my cat today. She was not supposed to be 'my cat'. I was keeping her 'over night' until a friend of mine approached her husband about getting a kitten. Yeah, right!!!!!!!! Baa,haa, haa.
Didn't want another cat...I was tired of keeping cat boxes clean, and all the stuff that comes with a kitty. Like trying to keep it indoors, teaching it not to climb the drapes, staying off the kitchen counters, and of course tolerating that being aloof thingy. Well, guess what?
CC (Crystal Champagne) came into my life as a tiny, light gray, silvery puff ball that literally fit into the palms of my hands. I found her buried deep in the undergrowth of my flower garden in the front yard. She was in a pitiful state, mewing forlornly, utterly, completely lost. It turns out one of my neighbor's kids brought a litter of kittens home and somehow this one escaped and ended up in my yard.
It was happy hour in my garage, and one of the attendees said she would take the kitten, except she wanted to get her husband's blessing first. So, (idiot that I am) I said I would keep kitty over night, and I honestly expected CC to have a new home in the morning. Well....she did...mine.
Burgie accepted her immediately, and she him, love bloomed. What's a body to do? He and I showered her with new toys, lots of love and lots, and lots of playtime. Guess it was a match made in heaven.
Over time she developed her own personality. I have (well had) a height and growth chart going up the wall in the dining area with all the kids and grand-kids growing tags on it..CC decided the chart was hers and as she grew bigger and stronger, farther and farther up the chart she went. As soon as she came to a name tag she would use her teeth to yank it off...I would find it on the floor. For several weeks I would replace the tags...she would pull them off. I finally gave up. It is now her climbing wall.
It's pretty cute, she can scamper all the way up to the ceiling in seconds, and then hang on with a grace that absolutely astounds me. She looks around her domain, rubs her cheek along the edge of the wall, and looks down on me as though she were royalty.
Some cats live to eat...CC on the other hand eats to live. Some mornings her pate sits for hours before she finally decided to take a nibble or two.
Burgie passed away. I didn't want another dog...yeah, right. Zorro enters the picture. It took a while for he and CC to become friends, but I was determined to let them work it out...and so they did. Now they are 'buds'. You should see them carry on some times. Zorro torments her, she takes it for a while, then attacks. I keep telling him he is never going to win, but still he persists...silly dog.
The three of us curl up on the sofa at night to watch TV. CC is always the last to arrive, sometimes scaring the heck out of me...(I tend to doze off, and she jumps up on my chest). During cold weather she even joins us in bed, otherwise she goes off to her secret places to sleep.
She has finally learned she is not an outside cat, though there are times she will attack the back door screen and pull herself up to the top. Funny that...she knows that's a no-no, and when she hears me coming she lets go and leaps to the floor in one graceful move, laughing at me all the while.
And there you have it...my furry critters, me and Frankie, a family...an odd combination for sure, but, we love each other in a way that's truly a mystery, and somehow we are blessed to be the family that we are. I guess one can't really explain how family love works, we simply have to KNOW that it does.
Didn't want another cat...I was tired of keeping cat boxes clean, and all the stuff that comes with a kitty. Like trying to keep it indoors, teaching it not to climb the drapes, staying off the kitchen counters, and of course tolerating that being aloof thingy. Well, guess what?
CC (Crystal Champagne) came into my life as a tiny, light gray, silvery puff ball that literally fit into the palms of my hands. I found her buried deep in the undergrowth of my flower garden in the front yard. She was in a pitiful state, mewing forlornly, utterly, completely lost. It turns out one of my neighbor's kids brought a litter of kittens home and somehow this one escaped and ended up in my yard.
It was happy hour in my garage, and one of the attendees said she would take the kitten, except she wanted to get her husband's blessing first. So, (idiot that I am) I said I would keep kitty over night, and I honestly expected CC to have a new home in the morning. Well....she did...mine.
Burgie accepted her immediately, and she him, love bloomed. What's a body to do? He and I showered her with new toys, lots of love and lots, and lots of playtime. Guess it was a match made in heaven.
Over time she developed her own personality. I have (well had) a height and growth chart going up the wall in the dining area with all the kids and grand-kids growing tags on it..CC decided the chart was hers and as she grew bigger and stronger, farther and farther up the chart she went. As soon as she came to a name tag she would use her teeth to yank it off...I would find it on the floor. For several weeks I would replace the tags...she would pull them off. I finally gave up. It is now her climbing wall.
It's pretty cute, she can scamper all the way up to the ceiling in seconds, and then hang on with a grace that absolutely astounds me. She looks around her domain, rubs her cheek along the edge of the wall, and looks down on me as though she were royalty.
Some cats live to eat...CC on the other hand eats to live. Some mornings her pate sits for hours before she finally decided to take a nibble or two.
Burgie passed away. I didn't want another dog...yeah, right. Zorro enters the picture. It took a while for he and CC to become friends, but I was determined to let them work it out...and so they did. Now they are 'buds'. You should see them carry on some times. Zorro torments her, she takes it for a while, then attacks. I keep telling him he is never going to win, but still he persists...silly dog.
The three of us curl up on the sofa at night to watch TV. CC is always the last to arrive, sometimes scaring the heck out of me...(I tend to doze off, and she jumps up on my chest). During cold weather she even joins us in bed, otherwise she goes off to her secret places to sleep.
She has finally learned she is not an outside cat, though there are times she will attack the back door screen and pull herself up to the top. Funny that...she knows that's a no-no, and when she hears me coming she lets go and leaps to the floor in one graceful move, laughing at me all the while.
And there you have it...my furry critters, me and Frankie, a family...an odd combination for sure, but, we love each other in a way that's truly a mystery, and somehow we are blessed to be the family that we are. I guess one can't really explain how family love works, we simply have to KNOW that it does.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Smart doggy
Yesterday I posted on 'facebook' how Zorro surprised me by bringing me his 'peanut butter toy' and dropping it at my feet while I was making myself a peanut butter English muffin for breakfast. It was amazing. I wondered what made him do that. Did he recognize the peanut butter jar? Did he smell the peanut butter? Obviously he knew I was working with his most favorite food.
Even though I had already given him his daily allowance of the thick, gooey stuff, I gave him more...how could I not? I thought his action was brilliant.
He has developed another habit. I have a large shawl folded across the back of the sofa/couch (depends on where you grew up) that I throw over the both of us when the house gets chilly. Now, he will sometimes pull it off the back to tell me he wants it to 'cover up.' This is a deliberate action, folks, I did not teach him to do this. If for some reason he is not able to pull it off by himself, he will shoot me a look that says; 'I want that blanket, and I want it now.' We cover up.
At bed time I turn off the lights and announce it is time to go 'nite-nite'. He will jump off the sofa/couch, and follow me to the bedroom, curl up in his spot while I brush my teeth and hair, put on my 'nightie', and get into bed. I then lift up the covers, say, "You ready to go 'nite-nite' and he will snuggle up next to me under the covers and go to sleep. There he will stay till morning.
When I first got Zorro I would put him on a leash and walk him around the perimeter of the front yard, to teach him his boundaries. Eventually, I placed a small, decorative fence around the yard so he could enjoy the front yard without being tied up...however, this week I began to leave the gate open as I made trips to the yard debris recycle bin, just to see what he would do.
God bless him...he would follow me everywhere, and stop exactly where he was supposed to...never going an inch beyond his boundary. I'm not going to get rid of the fence by any means, because there are now little children, and unleashed dogs about the neighborhood; I don't want the temptation to be to great for him to overreact to an unfamiliar situation...and 'appear' to be an aggressor.
Anyhoo, the jest of this piece is to say we don't give our four-legged creatures enough credit for being smart. I'm here to set the record straight. Zorro is not only smart, he's cute, funny, clever, faithful, and loyal. I could not ask for a more loving companion.
Worry not, tomorrow I will write about my cat.
Even though I had already given him his daily allowance of the thick, gooey stuff, I gave him more...how could I not? I thought his action was brilliant.
He has developed another habit. I have a large shawl folded across the back of the sofa/couch (depends on where you grew up) that I throw over the both of us when the house gets chilly. Now, he will sometimes pull it off the back to tell me he wants it to 'cover up.' This is a deliberate action, folks, I did not teach him to do this. If for some reason he is not able to pull it off by himself, he will shoot me a look that says; 'I want that blanket, and I want it now.' We cover up.
At bed time I turn off the lights and announce it is time to go 'nite-nite'. He will jump off the sofa/couch, and follow me to the bedroom, curl up in his spot while I brush my teeth and hair, put on my 'nightie', and get into bed. I then lift up the covers, say, "You ready to go 'nite-nite' and he will snuggle up next to me under the covers and go to sleep. There he will stay till morning.
When I first got Zorro I would put him on a leash and walk him around the perimeter of the front yard, to teach him his boundaries. Eventually, I placed a small, decorative fence around the yard so he could enjoy the front yard without being tied up...however, this week I began to leave the gate open as I made trips to the yard debris recycle bin, just to see what he would do.
God bless him...he would follow me everywhere, and stop exactly where he was supposed to...never going an inch beyond his boundary. I'm not going to get rid of the fence by any means, because there are now little children, and unleashed dogs about the neighborhood; I don't want the temptation to be to great for him to overreact to an unfamiliar situation...and 'appear' to be an aggressor.
Anyhoo, the jest of this piece is to say we don't give our four-legged creatures enough credit for being smart. I'm here to set the record straight. Zorro is not only smart, he's cute, funny, clever, faithful, and loyal. I could not ask for a more loving companion.
Worry not, tomorrow I will write about my cat.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
We wish you...
Frankie: "What's ya doin'."
Me: "Trying to think what to write about this morning."
Frankie: "Hmmm, how about, 'what's important in your...well...any body's life? Family? Friends?'"
Back and forth our conversation went..
Me: "Health. Wealth."
"Food on the table." (Is that a dig, Frankie.)
Me: "A roof over our heads."
Frankie: "Clean air to breathe."
"Furry companions." (Ouch. Is that a dig, Sandy.)
Love, warmth in winter, cool breezes in summer.
Being able to see, hear, touch, taste, feel.
We began to get ridiculous, things went from what's important to what we 'wish we had'. Millions of dollars, a jet plane, liposuction, face lifts, etc, etc. Before long we were laughing our heads off.
Finally, the room fell silent. It was almost as if the air got sucked out of it. We were both lost in serious thought.
Finally, Frankie spoke. "You know what I think is the most important thing in every body's life, and what I wish everybody had? Enough!"
"Yep, just enough."
You're right Frankie, and we are wishing all of you...
...just enough.
Me: "Trying to think what to write about this morning."
Frankie: "Hmmm, how about, 'what's important in your...well...any body's life? Family? Friends?'"
Back and forth our conversation went..
Me: "Health. Wealth."
"Food on the table." (Is that a dig, Frankie.)
Me: "A roof over our heads."
Frankie: "Clean air to breathe."
"Furry companions." (Ouch. Is that a dig, Sandy.)
Love, warmth in winter, cool breezes in summer.
Being able to see, hear, touch, taste, feel.
We began to get ridiculous, things went from what's important to what we 'wish we had'. Millions of dollars, a jet plane, liposuction, face lifts, etc, etc. Before long we were laughing our heads off.
Finally, the room fell silent. It was almost as if the air got sucked out of it. We were both lost in serious thought.
Finally, Frankie spoke. "You know what I think is the most important thing in every body's life, and what I wish everybody had? Enough!"
"Yep, just enough."
You're right Frankie, and we are wishing all of you...
...just enough.
Monday, July 2, 2012
What????????
It's July??????????
NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Why is this year in such a hurry? I'm already noticing it is getting dark sooner. Really, I can. Of course the fact we've had no sunshine kind of helps that along...still...I'm sitting at the top of the slide, unwilling to let go and start the slide down to December 21. There is a huge line of folks behind me, so I know I have to let go and start the slide down...but...I...don't...wanna'.
Sometimes I wish I could split my living between the norther and southern hemispheres so I would never have to endure Autumn and Winter again. Australia and South Africa come to mind. "Dear Friends, Can I come live with you? Well, guess I should first inquire; Do either of you think you could put up with an eccentric old person three months out of your year? I would split Autumn and Winter up between the two of you. Baaaa, haaaa, haaa. Isn't that kind of me?"
Yesterday I was watching the season re-runs of the Kardashian's and that is exactly the kind of wealth I would need to fulfill my dream of never having to endure Winter's doom and gloom ever again. When one of the girls said she might have to 'rent a plane' to get to their vacation site, I almost screamed out loud. What the heck...rent a plane...not a Piper Cub either, we're talking a Lear Jet...screammmmmmmmmmmmmm!
Whew, I feel better.
So, back to reality I go. Honest, I have a darn good life, I'm happy, content, and ALMOST have my health back. Still coughing a bit, and stopped up too, but I'm managing. Wish I could grab a book and go sit outside in the sun for an hour or two...but life is what it is, some summers are just yuck. I do wish I could slow this year down a bit though, I'm no where near ready for the end of it. Except, well...we do come up to the shortest daylight day of the year.
Guess where I will be? Yep, at the bottom step of the slid, on my way up to the top.
Wooo, hooo.
NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Why is this year in such a hurry? I'm already noticing it is getting dark sooner. Really, I can. Of course the fact we've had no sunshine kind of helps that along...still...I'm sitting at the top of the slide, unwilling to let go and start the slide down to December 21. There is a huge line of folks behind me, so I know I have to let go and start the slide down...but...I...don't...wanna'.
Sometimes I wish I could split my living between the norther and southern hemispheres so I would never have to endure Autumn and Winter again. Australia and South Africa come to mind. "Dear Friends, Can I come live with you? Well, guess I should first inquire; Do either of you think you could put up with an eccentric old person three months out of your year? I would split Autumn and Winter up between the two of you. Baaaa, haaaa, haaa. Isn't that kind of me?"
Yesterday I was watching the season re-runs of the Kardashian's and that is exactly the kind of wealth I would need to fulfill my dream of never having to endure Winter's doom and gloom ever again. When one of the girls said she might have to 'rent a plane' to get to their vacation site, I almost screamed out loud. What the heck...rent a plane...not a Piper Cub either, we're talking a Lear Jet...screammmmmmmmmmmmmm!
Whew, I feel better.
So, back to reality I go. Honest, I have a darn good life, I'm happy, content, and ALMOST have my health back. Still coughing a bit, and stopped up too, but I'm managing. Wish I could grab a book and go sit outside in the sun for an hour or two...but life is what it is, some summers are just yuck. I do wish I could slow this year down a bit though, I'm no where near ready for the end of it. Except, well...we do come up to the shortest daylight day of the year.
Guess where I will be? Yep, at the bottom step of the slid, on my way up to the top.
Wooo, hooo.
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