Doing nothing

6:00 p.m. I'm still in my pj's. Nope, not sick. Just needed one of those days where you sit on your butt. All day. Do nothing. It kind of felt good. The complete opposite of the daily grind and running from one place to another. Except, somehow 4 loads of laundry got washed, dried put away; so did a load of dishes. Two closets got cleaned out. The bed got stripped and remade. And the July vacation plans were finalized. Hmmm, guess I didn't do "nothing" after all...

Suzie Q

My father in law used to call me "Suzie Q." I'm not sure why - but it didn't matter anyhow. It was sweet. We visited his grave yesterday. I had a short, private conversation with him. Later that evening, on the oh so long drive home from Stewartstown, PA to Long Island, I believe it was somewhere during the 15 mph trek of the New Jersey Turnpike, the song "Suzie Q" by Creedence Clearwater Revival came on the radio. I haven't heard that song in years. Coincidence? Acknowledgement? You decide.

Open the Blinds Close the Blinds

Every morning the first thing I do when I come down the stairs is open the blinds. Every evening the last thing I do before going up the stairs is close the blinds. If I did the math in my head correctly, that's over 20,000 times I have opened and closed the blinds in the past 25 years or so (don't get out your calculator to see if I'm right - it was a rough guess). How come every time I turn around I'm opening or closing the blinds? Another description of the same feeling - office chatter:
"Have a nice weekend." "How was your weekend?" I've been at my job long enough to have uttered these two phrases 1144 times. I hope I've made the most of all the time in between.

Taking Turns

It sems that a female dog put out on the first date and got herself in "trouble." Five puppies later, the owner could not handle it. That's what I walked into this afternoon at Bide A Wee. Three girls, two boys. Looks like a spaniel-poodle mix. All five are mostly white balls of fluff with some tan markings. They were all fast asleep when I arrived. Literally sleeping on top of one another. In our training classes we learned that puppies must learn to let humans hold them and touch them all over, it makes them much more adoptable. You don't have to tell me twice!! I would pay to do this. Once again, we humans could learn a lesson from these little guys. The lesson of unconditional love. Just hold them and stroke them and somehow they instinctively know that they are safe and they love you for it forever. I took them out (one at a time) and played with them on my lap. They knew they had to take turns. No one cried. No one was jealous. As I put one down, one would come to me. No one tried to jump the line - it was amazing. Funny - but the runt of the litter was the most playful, (her tail never ever stopped wagging), she was very interested in my fingers. I replaced my fingers with her chew toys just a couple of times and she got the message. It was so easy - no words needed. No punishing. Nothing negative. Just that look. That eye to eye - nonverbal communication. My eyes were saying "don't chew on my fingers." Her eyes were saying "but I love you." Her four siblings (one of which I'll call "Frankie" because his eyes were the bluest I've seen on a dog (except for maybe a Siberian Huskie), were also very playful. They; however, seemed much more interested in sleeping and peeing on the newspaper. Like I said last week - no matter how many litters you see, there is always that one - I already taught her to give kisses....I'm secretly calling her Frito. I'm sure she will have a permanent home before I get back there. Sigh.

And they called it puppy love

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I don't have any pictures, so here are my words (doubtful that it will be a thousand of them though). I'll be as descriptive as possible: Puppy love: Puppy teeth, puppy nails, puppy breath, puppy yelping, puppy crying, puppy playing, puppy kissing. Puppies. All over me. Over a dozen of them at one time - all fighting for my attention. Chewing through my latex gloves, putting their nails through my sterile gown, chewing on my earrings, licking off my sunglasses. Puppies. White. Brown. Black. Twenty four puppy eyes. Trying to put them back in their crates - even with the help of two staff members - not so easy. Lots of crying. I'm weak. I take them back out (one at a time). I play with one, the others cry. They all look at me with those eyes - "I love you, take me home with you." But you know, there's always that one, that one that's different. That one that looks right through your soul and says "look at me, don't you know who I am?" "I'm your destiny...."

P.S. They will all be up for adoption as soon as they are medically cleared. Keep checking the Bide A Wee website (www.bideawee.org) if you're interested. Most of them are golden lab mixes and they've been flown in from the Bahamas.

Supervisor

I'm going to have a new supervisor in a couple of weeks. She is young enough to be my daughter. I remember when I started this job I was the youngest one in the entire department. Now I have a countdown to retirement of less than 4 years. I will have a "child" telling me how to do things that I've been doing for years. Funny, I thought this would bother me more than it does. Actually, I'm thinking I may be able to learn a thing or two from her. Not to mention that I certainly can teach her a thing or two or three or four...

Midnight

Midnight: noun, a 12 year old, black lab mix with the sweetest disposition a family could ever ask for. Loyal. Loving. Compassionate. Smart. Sweet (oh so sweet!) Beautiful. Funny. Furry. Fantastic. Fabulous. Adorable. Amiable. Angelic. Captivating. Charming. Cuddly (oh so cuddly!!) Fascinating. Friendly. Spoiled - oh so very spoiled...just like every dog should be!

When we got the call a little while ago that he had to be put down, my brother in law asked me if I wanted to say goodbye to him over the phone. I couldn't do it. I'm doing it here. Goodbye Midnight. I will miss everything about you. Especially your head pushing up my hand to scratch your behind. Our bed in the basement will be lonely without you. Your barking at the back door to come inside when you didn't want to be alone outside will ring in my heart forever. You managed to bring sunshine on even the darkest days. I hope you are at peace. I love you.

1983

How did I become older than my mom? As I was digging through a couple of boxes of old photographs, I came across one of my first born son, Joey, at the age of 5 months, with me sitting on the couch. Just for the heck of it, I put my glasses on, took another look. Nope - not me in the picture. My mom. Four years younger than I am now. How is this possible? The original was taken with a Polaroid. I just took a photo of the photo, so it's a bit blurry, much like the 26 1/2 years that have passed since that day.

wii fit

It's all the rage. Everyone has it. Everyone is talking about it. We have one too. We talk about it too. Apparently; however, I am not so much wii fit! According to "my fitness coach" my center of balance is way off. My BMI is way too high. My weight is 33 pounds more than it should be. It seems that I cannot walk in place and swing my arms at the same time, or walk on a tight rope, twirl a baton, keep up a hoola hoop, have a snowball fight, operate a segway, ski down a mountain, do a basic step aerobic, nor breathe properly. It's amazing that I can dress myself! But here's the thing - it is so competitive that it drives you to keep going. I'm feeling muscles in my body that I haven't felt since tryouts for kickline in 10th grade!! Maybe I'll lose some weight and get into shape, but I'll have to put the bag of potato chips down first!

36 years with you - 15 without

Happy birthday Dad...

Christmas Dinner

I've been trying for over a week to write a story about Christmas dinner. I sign on and stare at a blank page, all the words jumbled in my head and I can't seem to make a sentence. After the 4th try I gave up. Today as I sit here, (attempt #5) watching yet another snow storm, I realized it's because of the weather. Rage takes over every power of my being and I can't even think. I know I complain a lot about the cold. I know there's nothing I can do about it. I know people don't like to hear me whine about it. I can't stop myself. This is the 4th storm this winter and it's only January 2nd. This one was fore casted as "snow showers." The hubby used the snow blower a couple of hours ago and it's covered again. Some snow showers.

Anyhow - Christmas dinner was a lot of fun. Those of you who know me know that I really can't cook very well. One thing I can make; however, is a turkey. I attempted to step it up a notch with my son's recipe for apple cider gravy (which begins with cooking the turkey in the cider.) My momma in law always makes oyster dressing. We attempted the preparing of this feast together. I prepared the bird, she chopped her little fingers to the bone preparing the dressing. The only thing I did to help was break up the oysters. I held the legs of the bird wide open while she spooned in the stuffing. I felt like I was aiding in my granddaughter's birth again, only things were going in instead of coming out!! I happened to say this out loud and for some reason Momma found it hysterical. The kind of laughter that makes tears. The spoonfuls of dressing were landing everywhere but inside the bird. "F---it" I said, just pick it up with your hands. So she did - hand fulls of dressing literally being shoved in the bird. We laughed so hard our cheeks hurt. We were all looking forward to this meal, especially the oyster dressing. A couple of hours later the house began to smell delicious. I basted and basted and basted again. Dinner was finally ready. Probably one of the most scrumptious birds I ever made. The oyster dressing; however, tasted like apple cider. Momma didn't find this flavor appealing to her palate. We did however; laugh. A lot. So much work - all for naught. Time well spent together, though. This is probably one of those stories best read if you were there. Nonetheless I felt like telling it. It was good to see you laugh, Momma.