Why the Dogs Got Nothing For Christmas

 In a nutshell: because they were BAD. They started out as good girls but then it all derailed!

They began the year loving each other. But then Lilly got jealous of Vivian because she created a new game called "Running Like a Crazy Girl". This involved when I got home, Vivian would run into the living room and then run at me and jump for me to pick her up. And I would because she's so tiny and cute. Lilly is cute but not tiny, so when she figured it out she would go maybe 10 inches from me and run 1 step to beat Vivian to me. I would pick her up and then Vivian would be jealous and go sulk. Then, it got to the point where they would greet me at the door, and then get into a fight with Vivian jumping on Lilly's back. Funny, but not appropriate!

Next, they began growling at each other: from opposite couches. So annoying when you're trying to listen to the TV! And this turned into Lilly attacking her sister just to be mean. That's what squirt bottles are for!

At some point Vivian decided she wanted to be pack leader and tried to bully ME. If she wanted a treat she would come to me, stand on her hind legs and push on my leg while verbally demanding a treat. That got old real fast!

But the piece de resistance (add your own accents) was their defiance if all 3 of us left the house and they were alone. I know they are needy and clingy and have abandonment issues. However, they started something new and a bit dangerous.

I was the first one home one day. They greeted me and we came into the living room. There, in the dog bed, was an opened package of dark chocolate M&Ms. Dark chocolate will kill dogs and mine are small! "Where did this come from???" I asked, like they were going to tell me. I snatched it up and threw it in the garbage. I also told them if they had eaten any: to pray to their God because Pumpkin used up all the emergency vet money. Thank God they were safe, although I had a sneaking suspicion that it was Lilly's doing and she was trying to kill her sister. Good thing there is no evidence that Vivian ate anything!

So over a few months we have come home to several unusual things in their bed. This includes a container of potato salad, marshmallows, popcorn, a strawberry Belvita biscuit, Hershey Kisses and other things that we had no idea where it came from. So we had to make sure everything was put away and there were no lunch bags left on the floor with leftover food. 

However, the best (or worst) thing I came home to was a chef salad in the dog bed. No lie! The container was bigger than Vivian so I know she didn't put it there. Thank God it wasn't open. But that one was my fault: I had gotten it the night before, didn't finish it and had put it back in the to go bag by my dining room chair: forgetting to toss it away. But still: the dogs knew we didn't serve them salad!

So there you have it: the first year our pets got nothing for Christmas because I don't reward bad behavior. Maybe they can redeem themselves for next year and make it back onto the nice list.

Like Living in a Belfry

 

The weather for the past week and a half or so has been unseasonably warm. We loved it! 70-degree weather in November is basically unheard of in upstate New York. I loved it: right up until last Wednesday.

I was at church practicing with the music director of our worship team. As usual, when we were finished with practice we sat in the sanctuary and chatted for a bit. I thought I heard something, but no one else was scheduled to be there. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw something near the ceiling. And then it took flight! Yep: it was a bat! I said, “Jim it’s a bat!” He said, “Are you sure it isn’t a bird?” Then it started swooping and he said, “Nope: it’s a bat.” No kidding!

At that point I knew practice was officially over but now I had a dilemma: how was I going to get out of the sanctuary without attracting its attention? “Jim I have to GO!” yet I continued to sit there watching it fly around the far reaches of the sanctuary. “Well yes we should get out.”  Yet we still sat there!

As I watched the acrobatic bat, it finally flew up to a large window that I hadn’t even noticed. It looked like a big square was cut out of a screen. The bat went into there but then came back out; then it went for the screen, appeared to slide down said screen and disappeared. This was my chance to make my break. “Jim, you’re on your own!”  “Let me just turn out the lights –“ “So it can fly back up into the darkness? Nope! Sorry Jim it’s every man for himself and I’m out!” I hightailed it out of there and into the night. I felt a little bad for Jim but not enough to slow down.

Oh how the girls chuckled with mirth when I told them. Brie said, “You seriously left Jim there?” “Yes I did! Survival of the fittest and he’s a man so if you’re slow you blow.” “Nice Christian words mom.” “God will forgive me and so will Jim!”

Thankfully the rest of the evening was uneventful. I was happy to fall asleep on the couch. But then I thought I heard someone calling my name. Regaining consciousness, it was Kitty. “Kitty were you calling me? What do you want?” “Mom, don’t panic but I wanted you to know that there’s a bat up here. I’ll take care of it.” “WHAT????????”

Sure enough, she had found a sleepy little bat outside of her room door. Of course I wished she had just gotten rid of it and not woken me up, but that’s Kitty! She came downstairs and headed out the door with it. And naturally she took a picture of it for Facebook. She put it on a tree, did the photo op, and then it went up the tree: presumably to nap. When she came back in I said, “Aren’t bats supposed to be hibernating now?” Surprisingly, Brie piped up with, “The weather has been so warm that it confused the bats. That’s why they are out now and confused.” Ugh!

Now that the weather is cold again, I hope that I don’t get chased out of the sanctuary during this week’s practice. I also saw that Kitty had reinforced her prior efforts of keeping out any flying visitors. What would I do without her?

Why I'm Not Having Surgery

 

So after over three years of caring for my mother at my house, she is in a really good nursing home. I just couldn’t provide 24/7 care for her anymore and had to finally admit defeat. But she is being well taken care of, they have had NO instances of COVID and she has a wonderful view of the mountains from her room. That’s the good news.

The not so good news is that with these years of helping her, especially if she fell or needed help up from her chair: my left shoulder and low back are jacked up.  When I went to the ortho after I had new x-rays taken, he showed me the x-ray from 2017 and the new one. “Good grief, what kind of abuse have you been experiencing?” he asked. “You have bursitis, calcium deposits, a torn tendon and bone spurs.” Yep: all that damage from taking care of my mother. And yes: it hurts like a mother! But it’s what you do for your parent.

Anyhoo, I’ve been going to PT which I dislike intensely. I have pretty much no range of motion (without excruciating pain) when I try to reach behind me or raise my arm past a certain point. So what I like about PT is the heat pack, the ultra sound and the ice pack at the end. Any actual exercises just make me mad because it hurts. But I do them to the best of my ability and then go home and whine to the daughters who roll their eyes and tell me I need to do them. Haters!

I recently had an MRI done and the ortho set me up with an appointment to see the surgeon because he really feels that some arthroscopy to clean up my shoulder will go a long way towards helping me. I see the surgeon in four weeks. I asked my ortho how long the healing process is and he said 12 weeks. I said, “Out of work????” and he said no, I could probably go back to work after 4 to 6 weeks. Small consolation: that’s all of my vacation and sick time!

So here’s the reason why I’m not having surgery: because there is no one to take care of me while I heal. Sure my girls say they will. LIES! And here’s how I know.

Right now, since I can’t reach behind me, I cannot unhook my b-r-a. If I ask Kitty to help me, she looks like she expects me to flash her afterwards. I have to reassure her that she only has to reach under the back of my shirt and do it. She is still very squeamish about it and tries to do it without actually touching me.  Sheesh, I changed your diaper but you don’t want to help me with this small task??

Brie, on the other hand, acts too happy to do it. She tries to creep me out by doing the porn music while she’s unhooking it. She thinks she’s funny but she is not! At least she gets it done without acting like I have cooties.

When I am getting dressed I can at least put the b-r-a on backward, hook it, turn it around and then try to slide the straps over my arms. But I can’t exactly do the left side so again I have to ask creepy Brie for help. Which involves waking her up, which is an adventure all by itself. Once I get her cognizant and coherent she is good about it. The only unfortunate thing is that once I get my arms in and the straps up, (gentlemen close your eyes for this part) sometimes all of my naughty bits are in the b-r-a and sometimes they aren’t. Then I have to do this move that hopefully shakes everything into place.

But the best part is my hair. I can’t do the left side correctly because I can’t raise my arm. So again: time to wake up Brie. Sometimes I am successful: sometimes not so much. She was sleeping on the couch one morning and I said, “Can you help me with my hair?” “Sure momma.” She then proceeded to not only not turn her face from the back of the couch: she also just moved her hand in the air like she was actually touching my hair. “Brie, you’re supposed to be doing my hair!” “I am momma.” Still waving her hand in the air. “It looks really nice.” “You haven’t even touched it nor looked at it!” Still facing the couch: “Yes I did and you look beautiful momma.” Seriously! I cannot make this stuff up.

At least the one thing they will do is spray or roll icy hot on me. Not because they love me: oh no, it’s because they don’t have to touch me. Rude! It isn’t like I have crocodile skin: my skin is actually quite nice since I take good care of it. Well, most of it. Sorry left side! Guess I’ll have to keep on with the PT and maybe consider the arthroscopy so I can stop torturing the girls into helping their mother.  

So until I can find someone, other than the dogs, to take care of me during a convalescence: say a prayer for me healing and not needing surgery at all!

Gypsy Rose Rita

I had thought all summer about doing a blog discussing my beginning club days. I was 16 when I started going out dancing and I was immediately hooked (love you Lisa J!). But since its mid September that boat has kind of sailed. But due to some recent events here's a memory that has come back to the surface.

End of summer 1976. My parents decided to take the change-of-life kids, Clancy and Robin, on vacation to Maryland for a week. The rest of us couldn't go because we all had to work. So you know what that meant: PARTY TIME!!

My older brothers were notorious for the parties they threw. All of my girlfriends knew this. So with no parents around, and their parents not knowing it: we planned to go to the Airport Inn at night and then they would stay at my house and party with the older fellas. Sounded fine to me as long as a i got my fix of dancing with guys from New York City and Montreal first.

I didn't smoke or drink or do drugs. Dancing with hot guys was my drug of choice! We girls would go out until one or two a.m. and then beat it back to my house. I'd say hi and goodnight to the guys and go to bed upstairs: leaving my girls to...whatever they were doing! Then in the morning I would get ready for work and step over the bodies sleeping on the floor as I left for work!

And then Thursday night rolled around. Out to the club as usual and then back to the house. But this night I stayed up a while to be social; finally heading upstairs later than usual and knowing I would be a sleepy unit at work.

Upstairs there were two large bedrooms but I used the bed in the hallway. I was exhausted and only had a couple of hours to sleep. I slipped out of my skirt and pulled my top off over my head. I hung the clothes up on the clothing rack and finally slipped beneath the sheets, turning over to sleepily face the wall.

Suddenly: I wasn't alone! Someone had slid into the bed with me! I hurriedly turned back over and it was my brother's best friend who shall remain nameless. "What are you doing???" I asked.

He looked confused. "Um...I was in the bedroom and i thought you were undressing for me. "

"No, I was undressing for me. I have to be at work in like 3 hours. I had no idea that anyone was up here."

A crestfallen look came over his face. "Oh. So you want me to go?"

This was a really good-looking guy that I had had a crush on for two years and NEVER thought I'd ever have a chance with. Healthy, tall, tan, smart and only dressed in his underwear. I honestly paused for a moment. But then I remembered who I was. I wasn't like my friends, I was only 16, went to church every Sunday and was planning to hold on to my virginity until I was married. Yes I went clubbing and occasionally kissed a guy or two (it was the 70s!) But I knew who I was. Regretfully (hey I was still a human teenage girl!) I said, "Yeah, I think its best if you go back to the room." He kissed my cheek. "Okay goodnight." Then I watched him go back into the room.

Yes thats right I watched him. I was 16 and he was fine and only in underwear! But seriously as I think back on that a lot of things could have gone wrong. He could have refused the word no. He could have cursed at me and called me a tease. Or he could have gone downstairs and lied to everyone about bagging me. But he did none of those things because at the end of the day he respected my wishes: something that doesn't always happen in situations like that.

When I recounted this to my girlfriends (come on, you knew I would!) they couldn't believe I turned him down. "You did a strip tease for him and then turned him down???" one friend asked incredulously. "I didn't know he was there!" I insisted. "House rules were no one upstairs." Another girl said, "I wouldn't have said no!"  Few girls would have but I'm thankful that even though I was naive back then: I was still smart enough to keep my reputation intact. Thankfully that was also the last night of notorious parties so I wouldn't be tempted again.

And thats my Gypsy Rose Lee story: the closest I ever came to being a stripper!

Still Saying the Darnedest Things Part 3

My darling Kitty has one of the sweetest dispositions of anyone I know. She's generally cheerful and everyone loves her.

But what most people don't know is that she has a bit of a macabre side. She collects Living Dead Dolls, which are dolls that come in a casket complete with a death certificate. They are eerily beautiful, but can be a bit frightening. Just ask Brie's friend Jennifer, who is terrified of them. Especially since there is one that looked just like her named Tenebrae!

When Jennifer spent the night once: in the morning she heard something scratching at the door and swore it was one of Kitty's dolls. We told her it was just Victoria the cat wanting to get in, but to this day she doesn't believe that. 😂

Kitty doesn't have the dolls to scare people: she finds them intriguing and uses them to make stop-motion videos that she puts on YouTube on her kaiennasunshine5000 channel. Please check it out! She does music video covers (Addicted to Love is one of my favorites!) and she also does mini movies. She is so talented! Here's a shot of some of the "backup dancers" from one of her videos.

Frozen Charlotte doesn't get to be in videos much because she has on ice skates.

Anyhoo, so sweet Kitty loves these dolls and uses them in very creative ways. They are on a stand in her room and now there are 50 of them...so we tread lightly when we have to go in there!

Here is a picture of Sadie, she's the one on the right, and she's the ringleader. This was actually a shot I had planned to use as the cover for one of my books. Then I thought better of it!

With all this being said, and in case you don't believe how dark Kitty can be: let me tell you what she said to her sister 2 days ago. Unfortunately Brie had a growth removed from her leg. The biopsy results came back that there are abnormal cells and they need to go in again. Of course this just devastated us. But God is on the throne and we know it will turn out all right.

She and Kitty had some sister errands to run. On the way home, Kitty says to her, "Your leg will be okay." Brie thanked her for the sentiment. Then Kitty followed that up with, "But just in case they have to amputate it: will you see if  you can bring it home for me?" Brie was not amused; but when she recounted this to me I laughed out loud. I'm sorry: funny is just funny and at least it lightened the mood!

So that's our Kitty 😄 You gotta love her!

Harder Than I Thought

This isn't anything I've broadcast, but Marie has been declining health-wise this year. I took care of her for over three years. I'm not going to go into detail, bur her diabetes has gotten harder to manage, she has some dementia, diabetic neuropathy and was having trouble walking. She knew that if it got to the point where she couldn't walk: I wouldn't be able to take care of her.

Sadly, we hit that point last Monday at 3 in the morning.  She didn't want to go to the hospital but I knew she needed to go. There wasn't much I could do for her because my left shoulder and lower back are jacked from years of getting her or my father up if they fell; or helping them up from a chair. Bone spurs, a torn tendon, calcium deposits and bursitis: I hope somehow I can avoid surgery. But I digress...

I was able to go to the ER with her. No good news there: I was told that I could no longer care for her at home and she needs 24/7 care now.

It's weird: in the back of my mind I had wondered if I would "get my life back", so to speak. But now that it's imminent: it isn't what I thought it would be. I've become so used to seeing her in my house that it's hard not seeing her there, and knowing she won't be back. I have been sleeping on the couch for a year so I could hear her if she needed anything in the night. I'm still on the couch when I can finally be in my room. I still wake up at 1:30 a.m. and don't fall back to sleep until 3 or 4 a.m. Every night. Her chair is empty. Her sparkling waters are still in the grocery bag. And her snacks from Schmoop-Dog are still by her chair.

Last Thursday she was transported to a facility up north for rehab. But the doctor has already said the dementia will be a big detriment to rehab. So I will have a conference call this Thursday to discuss a plan going forward.

And what does "getting my life back" consist of? Me, like Bella from Twilight, sitting and staring at her empty chair. Yeah: not having Marie here is harder than I thought...

Fashion During the Pandemic

Goodness, I could barely type the title with a straight face! What fashion? Yes I started out with the best of intentions, but you know what they say about that.

All the experts said that just because you're home: do the same things you would do as if you were going to the office. So up early, shower, get dressed and head for my workspace and working at 8.

This worked for about a week, and then my will got less and less. Up not as early, bird bath, leggings and sweatshirt and working at 8.

Then, as the shelter in place dragged on, some mornings became roll off of couch, stumble into the work area and hope there were no Zoom meetings scheduled. If there was a virtual meeting, 15 minutes before I would go into the bathroom to make myself presentable from the waist up and be camera ready by the time I logged into Zoom. I was doing...okay.

But as the pandemic wore on, the hardest hit for me was hair salons being closed. This was not good news for my hair. After a while it looked like Victoria was curled up on my head, which was not the look I was going for. I continued to moisturize and brush and what not but my hair waved the white flag and said 'good luck'! Thank goodness my salon finally reopened and I was able to tame my mane.

However, when the weather turned sub-Saharan and stayed that way: I knew wardrobe was going to be an issue. Even though my normal body temperature runs low, I run warm. So when the heat index is over 100, humidity is high and it's in the 90s finding something to wear is problematic. After all: if you're cold you can put on more clothes but if you're hot there's only so much you can take off in public before you're arrested.

Thankfully I have a lot of tank dresses and sleeveless dresses. But some of them are knit and no one wants to wear that fabric when it's 94 degrees. The ones that are cotton should be cooler, but that material sticks to you and heaven forbid you forget to un-tuck whatever got molded to a crevice! I have no idea why I have summer maxi dresses, when that's like wrapping your whole body in a sheet. Not refreshing! And then I was looking for a certain black and white print dress and thought I saw it through the side of a tubby. Yay! I lifted the lid a crack and pulled it out.

What I actually pulled out was a dress I had never seen before. It was a blue dress with white stripes. It looked like a beach cover up but I don't go to the beach. There was no price tag on it; and without my glasses I couldn't even read the label. So I asked Brie, "Is this yours? Have you seen it before?" She answered, "Nope! When did you buy it?" "I don't think I did!" But you know what? I threw that mystery dress on and kept it moving!

Even though the college is closed right now, I am able to work there a couple of days a week. The first day I was there I saw the Business Manager and she was wearing jean shorts. Eureka!! If that woman can wear shorts on campus, so can Rita! Until we reopen, that is. Dilemma solved!

Now I just need to hope that the weather cools before we actually reopen to the public. Otherwise I'll have to take scissors to those maxi dresses!

TIME TO CELEBRATE!!!

When I started this blog on November 14, 2010, I wasn't sure what it would be or how long it would last. I wanted to put myself out there as a way for people to get to know me, so hopefully they would buy my books on Amazon and Nook. However, after awhile it wasn't so much about my eBooks anymore: but about me and if I could keep people entertained. At the risk of sounding immodest, I think I have, and I love doing it!

Originally, when I heard that humor writer Dave Barry was taking a break from his column, I figured I would contact my local paper and see if they would let me take his place and do a humor column. The Features editor emailed me back and said for me to send him some samples, 500 words in length, and he would let me know. So happily I did this, but I didn't hear back from Will Doolittle. And then maybe a month or two later, I saw a new "humor" column being written by someone I knew that worked at the paper already! So he took my idea and gave it to someone else! Probably to save money. As you can imagine, my little puppy feelings were very hurt and it was hard for me not to say anything to the woman about it. To this day, I don't think she knew. Or if she did, she never said anything to me. My satisfaction came from hearing that people didn't find her column that entertaining or funny. Vindication for me!

I hadn't set any goals on how many followers I wanted. And it's a good thing, because currently I only have eight! That's okay though: because you don't need to be a follower to read my blog posts. In a minute I'll give you my proof of that.

Over the years I think my writing has gotten better, and the content as well. My main focus is humor because we all need a good laugh at times. But some is serious, some is sad, and some is just foolish. However: it's all honest and it's all me. I'm not afraid to let you in.

It wasn't until a few months ago that I started paying attention to the different tabs that let me know how many reads I had per day, week, month and so forth, and where my readers were located. Let me tell you: I was shocked at some of this information; and now I'm going to share it with you.

As of this writing, I have had 20,002 reads! I surpassed 20,000 and I am thrilled! But that's not the only thing. I discovered that people are reading me not only in the US, but in other countries as well! Who would have thought?????  I think that may have started while I was on Google + because that was a great platform that is sadly no more. But here are the other countries that are reading Rita and contributed to the 20,000 reads:

• France
• Russia
• United Arab Emirates
• Poland
• Canada
• Germany
• Spain
• Portugal
• China
• Vietnam
• Czechia
• Argentina
• India
• Egypt
• Ireland
• Great Britain

This is so exciting, and probably due to Twitter as well. Also, there is  a label of Unknown Region. I don't know if this is the International Space Station, outer space or what other country but 644 reads came from there. Keep reading!

Regardless, I want to thank each and every one of you that reads my crazy little blog and shows me love. And don't think this post is the end: it's a new beginning! Let's see how long it takes to get me to 30,000 reads! By the way: please feel free to comment or reach out to me if you like. I love to talk about my writing. Thank you, stay safe and God bless you my friends.

Musical Memories

My oldest brother Carl is almost as big a music fanatic as I am. Recently he sent me some CDs with old school R&B songs. I finally had a chance to throw one in my car's CD player and was immediately taken back to favorite memories of hearing some of those songs. Of course most of those memories included me as a minor in a dance club but hey: it was the '70s! And those songs made me think of other songs and memories. Here are a few of those that really make me smile:

• Deniece Williams' Free - Underage, I was deejaying at the Golden Grill Disco. At the end of the night you always played a slow song so people could get up close and personal before leaving. I called from the deejay booth to this girl named Sheila (aka Thunder Thighs), "Sheila what do you want to hear?" She smiled up at me and said, "Free" because she had been dancing with this really good looking guy that she ended up leaving with. You're welcome Sheila!
• Patrice Rushen's Forget Me Nots - I'm at the Golden Grill Disco in Saratoga Springs dancing with Aaron Hamilton. I was wearing a long white skirt, lavender top and killer high heels. He was wearing jeans and a basketball jersey. He was a great dancer (and cute!) but just up for the summer.
• Earth Wind & Fire's Reasons - Oh yeah, one of those long slow jams by one of the greatest bands of all time. Fine Phil Alloway was the lucky gentleman that got to dance with me. He was an Engineering student at RPI and we did end up dating until he was recruited by Proctor and Gamble and moved away. 
• Bohannon's Let's Start the Dance - Oh this song, and Henry Roberts. He became one of my favorite dance partners, and I had such a crush on him! But of course, he was in love with my frenemy's little straight-haired cousin. But she had her sights set on someone she deemed better. Who could have been better than Henry in 1978?? I loved that guy and all eyes were on us when we hit the dance floor. I held out hope for that guy, right up until I found out that he was married  and had a son. That put a speedy end to any thoughts I may have been secretly harboring: but we were still able to remain friends for several years. I wonder whatever happened to him? 

This is just the tip of the ice berg. I think I'll do this again real soon because during this pandemic we all need as many things to make us smile, as we can get!

By the way, here are a couple of quick updates:

• The woman who is in front of Planned Parenthood every day with her sign that reads "I regret my abortion", has a new friend. A gentleman has a sign that reads, "Choose life: your mother did"; and also the commandment "Thou shalt not kill". (see My Rant for Today)
• Whatever happened to my Pepperidge Farm Geneva cookies??? They were in the store earlier this year and now they're gone!! I can't find them anywhere! So of course I emailed the company to see why they were punishing me. They wrote back: "Thank you so much for contacting us. Our cookies are still available in your area." Then they listed two locations where the cookies were supposedly going to be. I went to the first one: NOPE! And the same with the second location which was around 10 miles away. So again: another favorite of mine bites the dust. 😞 (see Whatever Happened To...)

 

R.I.P. Vicky-Girl

Sadly, there was no Throw-back Thursday post yesterday. Judging by the title of this post, you can see the reason why,

Victoria Ashley was our beautiful big Maine Coon cat. Kitty got her for her birthday around 16 or 17 years ago. I paid exactly $1 for her, from a lady who had a farm in Gansevoort. Granted: we already had a cat (or 2!) but Kitty insisted a kitten was all she wanted for her birthday, so I acquiesced.

Kitty treated that kitten like a princess from day one. She was sequestered in her room until the other cats got used to her. So she slept with Kitty, played on her bed with her toys, and when it was nap time Kitty would cover her with a baby blanket (didn't want her to catch a chill from the air conditioning!), put on classical music and Victoria slept like royalty.

So it's no wonder that Vicky-Toria was the most chill, Zen cat I had ever known. And we loved her. Even though at heart she was a sour patch cat. For instance, she would jump up on the coffee table, walk across it knocking almost everything down: and then come up to you to bump her little knotty head against you to show she loved you.

She was a quirky girl too. She liked to sit behind the floor fan and meow into it so her voice vibrated. She loved boxes and would try to squeeze her 21 pound body into it, no matter how much overhang she had. If she couldn't find a box, she would put her paws into a plastic bag if she could find one. If you were sleeping and she had something to say: she would come up to you and meow at the top of her lungs to ensure she scared the daylights out of you.

But at the end of the day she was a loving cat who got a raw deal. Hyperthyroidism and cancer took our girl. She will not be replaced. Lilly will miss her the most and is mourning the loss of her friend of 6 years. Vivian never developed a relationship with her but will miss eating her food when she could get to it. I will miss her loud purr and her big self in my lap on her terms.

There's so much more, but it's a bit painful and fresh. Grammy loves you Victoria. Say hi to Pumpkin and Luna for me 💖💖

This last picture is of me with Vicky-girl, Pumpkin Louise and Luna from 6 or 7 years ago. Now they are together again...

Yep...Only Me

Since it's summer, I wanted to get a couple of new comfy summer dresses for Marie. So I headed to Walmart to see what I could find.

I went to the women's department and they had some nice flowy dresses with short flutter sleeves and floral designs. Since she loves flowers, I knew she would like these. I chose three and headed out of the department. But then I noticed a clearance rack up ahead and they had some tank dresses. I love wearing tank dresses in the summer, whether my biceps are in shape or not. Hey: you don't like how my arms look: don't look! Anyhoo, there was a red and thin white striped one that I knew would be very flattering on me. And since I've lost weight: I was able to get a smaller size. I snagged that pretty dress and headed for the cashier.

Anyone that knows me knows that sometimes I "misplace" stuff, and I misplaced my dress. It took me almost a month to find it! But I found it yesterday and put it on to wear to work (I can go into the office a day or 2 a week, thankfully!). I pulled the tags off and threw them on the coffee table. Brie told me how nice it looked and I said, "It feels great too! I love this dress!" Then I marched out the door to go to work.

All day I felt so good. That dress fit perfectly! I felt I needed to go back to Walmart to buy another one, if they had any left. But I didn't feel like putting on a mask so oh well. Maybe over the weekend.

I stayed late at work and then picked up Kitty from work at 7 p.m. We decided on pizza for her for dinner and wings for me. We got home and then we all had dinner. But I hadn't had much sleep the night before (thanks calming app!) and dinner made me sleepy. I said to Brie, "I wish I could just sleep in my beautiful dress, and then wash it to wear to Kitty's birthday dinner Friday night." Brie said, "Go ahead, I won't tell a anyone." "Maybe I will."

I saw the tags on the coffee table that I had taken off the dress that morning and figured I would throw them away. I took a closer look. One tag said 'Secret Treasures'. Hmm, that sounded familiar...I picked up the tag and slowly turned it over. 'Sleepwear". Oh snap: I had worn a nightgown to work as a dress!

As you can imagine, Brie laughed and laughed. "And you hate seeing people in public in pajama pants! You wore a nightgown to work! Bah ha ha ha! No wonder you want to sleep in it!"

I had no rebuttal. I do hate seeing people in pajama pants in public. Yet I wore a nightgown to work, and to Rite Aid to pick up a couple of things. Oy vey...

So I guess I don't have to buy another "dress" from Walmart's apparent sleep section! But man, it was really nice. So maybe what the public doesn't know: I can get away with!

It's Coming From Inside the House!

Because Marie lives with me, I sleep downstairs so I can keep an eye / ear on her. Brie sleeps downstairs too. It's rather uncomfortable but we've gotten used to it.

What I can't get used to is the TV on all night. Marie likes to have some "noise" and light, especially now that she has some dementia. I am a person that is used to sleeping in total darkness, so I sleep really lightly when it isn't pitch black. But I wouldn't want Marie to get any more disoriented than she sometimes gets at night, so I behave like a good daughter.

Sometimes I leave my phone on a religious station, or play from one of my music playlists and Marie likes that. Something peaceful that hopefully helps her sleep.

One night last week, I awoke at my usual time of around 2 a.m. There's usually a sermon on the radio that I like to catch if I happen to be awake, and I remember leaving my phone on the station. As I opened my eyes I realized that the TV station had defaulted to the SPECTRUM logo because no one had caught it in time to keep it on. Anyhoo, as I laid there, I heard this really pretty piano music. I knew it wasn't coming from the TV because the channel was off. Must be my radio station. I picked up my phone: it was off. Hmm...

I saw that Marie was awake. "Marie, do  you hear that music?" "What music?" "The piano music." "No I don't hear any music."

Uh oh. Usually it's Marie that hears and sees things. I sat up slowly. I had forgotten! I was listening to the station on my tablet! I picked up my tablet: it was off. Oh snap...was I having a stroke??? I didn't smell any burnt toast, so hopefully I wasn't. I slowly looked around the dark room. What the heck? But after a minute or two the music stopped. Whew! Chuckling to myself, I laid back down on the couch.

A couple of minutes later the music started again. It was really beautiful piano music. I looked around again and then my eyes widened as I looked into the dark dining room. It sounded like the music was coming from there! And who was a classically trained pianist? My sister Robin! Putting two and two together it hit me: Robin was in the dining room playing the piano and waiting for me to come join her!

Oh H to the NO: I wasn't ready to go where Robin was no matter how nice it is. So I started a conversation with God: "God, you know I love you and I will be spending eternity with you. But I kind of have a lot to do here before I can join Robin. I have to take care of Marie, and the pets, and Kitty and Brie. Yes I know they are adults but you can't tell by the way they act. They still need me. So if you could please tell Robin to stop playing and go back to Heaven with you, that would be great. Besides, shouldn't she be playing for Marie? Love you and thanks for me not having a stroke!"

My mumbling woke Brie up. "Who are you talking to?" she asked sleepily.

I lowered my voice. "God because Robin is playing the piano in the dining room, trying to lure me in!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay, don't you hear the piano music playing or is it just me??? Marie can't hear it. Robin wants me to join her!!"

She sat up. "Of course I hear piano music. It's the "calming" app I have on my phone. It's piano and thunderstorms!"

"ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???"

Um...did any of you hear Brie howling with laughter? "You thought it was Robin?" I thought she was going to roll off the couch with mirth.

"Why didn't you tell me about that app? I thought it was coming from the dining room! It scared me!" I snapped.

"I'm sorry mom," she managed to gasp out when she finally stopped laughing. "I thought it would be soothing."

"I'm sure it is when you let people know it's on! You did that on purpose to scare me!"

"Go back to sleep mom. I'll turn it off."

"And leave it off too!"

Why is she such a hater??? I hope she remembers what payback is, especially since I spent the rest of the night sleeping with one eye open!

Fun Bye Bye

Just for the record: the title is misleading.

For some reason, Brie thought it would be "fun" to take both dogs with us as we ran a few quick errands. Oh, how wrong she was! Vivian loves to go bye bye and will beat you to the door every time. She'll jump up until you pick her little 3.5 pound self up and take her outside. Even if we just sit on the porch: that's bye bye for her. As for Lilly: she has never in all of her eight years EVER wanted to even go out the door: much less actually go somewhere. You can open the front door and she won't budge past where the floor ends. And if you pick her up to take her out: her little tongue flicks in and out like a snake because it gives her such anxiety. Fun!

Anyhoo, Brie says, "Let's take the dogs to get some air." Me: "Both of them????" Brie: "Yes, Lilly needs to learn to love bye bye as much as Vivi does." Famous last words...

So with Brie's optimism leading the way, I said, "Who wants to go bye bye with Grammy and Auntie?" I didn't even get the entire sentence out before Vivi was at the door jumping, waiting for me to pick her up: her tail going in circles like a propeller. Lilly, who doesn't quite understand a lot of things, saw Vivi's enthusiasm so she thought bye bye was something she would enjoy, like treaties. WRONG! Once Brie picked her up and headed outside, that little tongue started darting in and out and she started shaking (it was 84 degrees out, by the way) and was a wreck by the time we got her to the car. Vivian was sitting up enjoying the fresh air while Lilly was a huddled heap in Brie's lap. And we hadn't even left the driveway yet...

We first head to Dunkies so Brie could get a pineapple coolatta. The problem here was that Vivian always thinks she has to protect Grammy, so she started barking as soon as she saw the drive thru person. The other problem was:it wasn't Burger king so the attendant didn't offer her any french fries. So bark bark bark until we finally drove away, and then she was very offended.

Next stop: Lox of Bagels for Brie's toasted bagel with olive cream cheese and lox. Yikes! When she had to go in, now I had both dogs in my lap. Vivian barked at anyone who parked next to us so they would know to not bother her Grammy. Traumatized Lilly crawled up my front until she was resting on my chest with her head on my shoulder, trying to hide in my hair which she has done since she was a puppy. She was still frightened of bye bye and was also dead weight. A scared 10-pound Chihuahua is surprisingly heavy! But I held them both until a smiling Brie came back to the car with 2 bags. French fries? Nope! She had a bagel finger for the dogs. I broke off a little piece for Vivi and she took it and then spit it out. I gave it to her again: same reaction. Brie gave a piece to Lilly and she was grateful, as she should have been. I gave Vivi to Brie and she gave her a piece of the bagel finger. Vivi spit it out onto her cleavage. At that point I told her to just put it back into the bag, take me to Walmart so I could buy a fan and go home.

 We got to Walmart and parked. Now Vivi decided she would eat the piece of bagel finger. I told Lilly I would be right back and told her to go to Auntie. She was maybe 10 inches away and I had never seen a dog crawl so slowly to anyone, shaking the entire time! Seriously! But she finally made it and I escaped into the store.

When I came back out Brie said that Vivi had barked almost the entire time, each time she saw someone. Lilly was cowering in her hair. So once again I was given both dogs, scolded for taking so long and then instead of going home: went back to Dunkies to get Marie a coolatta. Vivian barked at the attendant who still didn't have any french fries for her. But finally we made it home!

So it wasn't fun bye bye for anyone involved. And seriously: the next time both dogs go anywhere with me I'm going to make sure I have a car seat for them!

Whatever Happened To...?

I was in the Dunkin’ drive-thru waiting to order an English muffin. I didn’t really want an English muffin: what I really wanted was an Australian Toaster Biscuit.

What is a Toaster Biscuit, you say? Just a little bit of Heaven! It’s like an English muffin and you treat it like an English muffin, but it’s round and soft and oh so good. No need for nooks and crannies here! Our local Freihofer’s used to have them and then they stopped making them because they must have heard that I loved them. Oh I know it’s a conspiracy theory, and not just with my beloved Toaster Biscuits which I haven’t had in probably 20 years!

Several years ago Snackwells had a chocolate yogurt on the market. I am not a fan of yogurt, but wanted to eat healthier so figured I’d give it a try. Oh Lord: ambrosial! Of course it was supposedly low-fat (it wasn’t) and blah, blah, blah, but it was absolutely delicious and the only yogurt I would eat. As a matter of fact, this dark chocolate yogurt was so good: it’s the reason why I cannot eat pudding to this day. So of course they took it off of the market. I went so far as to contact the company to find out how to get it, and they responded, “Due to the poor sales of this product in your area, it is no longer available”. Apparently just me buying it wasn’t good enough, and they were all about the money. Haters!

Do you remember Viennetta?  Breyer’s came out with this grand dessert. It was a loaf of delicately layered ice cream ruffles and a hard chocolate coating. This was back in the day when Breyer’s Homemade Vanilla actually tasted homemade. It was phenomenal! And if you drizzled it with some Hershey’s dark chocolate syrup…oh yeah, the best dessert EVER! Until, once again, they heard that little Rita from upstate New York loved it, and poof! Gone from the freezer section like it had never been there.

That’s around the time I discovered another ice cream treat: Starbucks Coffee Almond Fudge. Coffee ice cream with ribbons of dark chocolate and dark chocolate covered whole almonds. It only came in a quart container, and I really had to restrain myself from eating the entire quart each time I bought one. It cost more than a half-gallon of ice cream (because it was a Starbucks product) but I didn’t care. Mama was happy! You guessed it: right until they stopped making it. Ugh! Why do manufacturers dislike me so much??? Again, I contacted the company and they said they were coming out with a product I would enjoy even more. Lies! They came out with these less-than-pint-sized containers of different flavors that were not Coffee Almond Fudge. I was done.

Weaver used to make chicken croquettes that you would heat in the oven. It came with a sauce packet that you put in hot water while the croquettes cooked. Then you put them on a plate, poured the warm sauce over it and enjoyed a great meal. You guessed it: I had to contact the company when this product disappeared and they replied, “We’re sorry, but periodically we discontinue products to make way for new ones that we are sure you will enjoy just as much. Thank you for being a valued customer.” If I was so valued, they would have kept my chicken croquettes! And just for the record: I did NOT enjoy their new products.

I know I shouldn’t take it personally but it’s hard not to when this has happened to so many of my favorite foods. It was probably God’s way of saying, “You’ll be bigger than a house if you keep eating so much of these foods!” Yes He knew I wasn’t known for self-control back then, ha-ha (remember the Mississippi Mud Pie incident???).

So since I am only 18 pounds away from my goal weight for the year, I should be thankful that my food addictions are off the market. However, from now on, if I really like something, I’m not saying a word about it!

My New Husband

Women have been doing this ever since they were in Junior High, right up until they actually find "the one". They see a guy or a famous person and say "Yep: that's my new husband".

I may be waaaaaayyyy past Junior High age, but inside I still do that. Who has been on my list over the years? Damien Escobar, Chris Botti, Damon Wayans, Drew McIntyre, Braun Strowman, Roman Reigns, Idris Elba, Ice Cube, Lamar Richardson, Max Sweeten, Todd Haller, Jason Statham, Bobby Flay, Scott Conant: and that's barely the tip of the iceberg! There's no rhyme or reason as to who might strike my fancy but they all have an indefinable something. And it really isn't just famous people, but I don't want to incriminate any of my actual male friends!

But now there's someone new who has caught my eye...

Everyone knows that I hate the news. It's never good, it brings you down, and I always said I wasn't going to watch it until there was some good news. Then Marie moved in and every morning she had to watch CBS Morning News and I would grumble right up until I left the house for work.

But over the past three years I've gotten to like that particular news show. With the COVID-19, the news anchors have been broadcasting from their homes. That's when I discovered him: my new husband.

Vladimir Duthiers.

He has been on this morning news show for a few years but I only started paying attention when they broadcast from their homes because I like taking a peek into their homes. Well forget his home: it was him. One of the first things he announced was, "While home I'm going to wear what I'm deeming my 'pandemic' uniform." This consists of a buttoned down shirt, usually black or blue chambray or twill, black or blue great fitting jeans and a black belt. He is in male aerobic great shape. Bald with medium brown skin, tall and close to my age! But the best thing is he has great teeth and a smile that could launch a thousand ships. Dreamy sigh...Great looking, great job, great personality and great teeth: who could ask for anything more??

I need to ask my new BFF Gayle King to introduce us. And no: she doesn't know that she's my new BFF yet (we're Instagram friends) but that's just a formality. After all, she and Oprah don't seem to be that close anymore so...I can fill that void!

Alas, there is a roadblock to our new relationship. For some reason he has a girlfriend who is also a journalist and is a young and lovely woman. I knew I shouldn't have dropped Journalism when I was in college! Yep: I shot myself in the foot with that move. So it looks like Mr. Duthiers will never know the pleasure of my company.

With that being said, stay tuned: because you never know who might catch my eye next week! And I still have plans to be Gayle King's new BFF!

Breaking My Silence

Today is June 4, 2020. I just finished watching George Floyd's memorial service. I haven't said a word about this horrific occurrence because it is just so painful, as a human being, to know this happened. As a human, I cannot watch that video nor can I listen to it. Oh how the world has changed: to where they show actual murders on TV. My soul can't bear it.

What has happened to your soul; what has happened to your life for you to think you have the power to treat someone like that? What kind of trip were you on? You knew what you were doing. You heard that man, and others saying he couldn't breathe. But that wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to kill that man. Regardless of what George may or may not have been guilty of, you are guilty of murder. As for your three cohorts I thank God they were arrested for standing by and doing nothing. Because we know if a black person had tried to intervene: you would have killed him too.

This has happened too often in the past few years but this hit the hardest. Probably because George was crying out for his mother, who was deceased. In times of trouble many people call out for their mothers, but in this case I hope it was because he saw his mother standing with Jesus to welcome him home. And I know I'm not the only one who thinks that.

Now, on the subject of the protests: I am on the side of those who are peaceful and trying to make a point. I in no way, shape or form condone the rioters and looters who are sullying the meaning of the protests. There will always be those who want to "wild out" in the name of justice but that's B.S. You just want to express your rage in a way sure to attract the police. You're throwing firecrackers, which sound like gunshots, so a bullet can be fired and you can say, "They shot at me and I'm unarmed!" You really want to play Russian Roulette like that with life?

I have been very lucky in my life. Growing up in a relatively small town, there were so few black families that we didn't have any issues and didn't face a blatant racist problem. The only time it kind of lurked in the shadows was when I discovered that boys couldn't date me because I was black. They knew me, my family was upstanding in the community and we all got along famously but they didn't want to take the chance on their sons making any mixed race babies. And I had to live with that. But in the grand scheme of things I was still lucky.

Yet I can still identify with those who struggle just to live each day without having to look over their shoulder. With those who are afraid that they'll get stopped for living life while black even when they aren't doing anything wrong. With those who are at the wrong end of a white police officer's bad mood or power surge. Even as a writer it's hard to find the correct words..

I don't know if it's power or fear that makes people afraid of us. I know there's nothing more frightening in this society than an educated black person. However, isn't it time to get over it and let everyone live their lives?  And stop thinking that a black person who has nice things stole them. You aren't the only ones that can be successful: no matter how much you tried to keep us down for so many years. Think about that.

'Nuff said.

What I Miss the Most

While working from home of course I miss the usual things: my office, co-workers, students and work friends. But what I miss most has nothing to do with that.

During this shelter in place, a good friend of mine lost his beautiful mother to COVID-19. Thanks to this new "not" normal, I was unable to see him or give him a hug. That's what I miss the most: hugs and touch. These are two things that occur when you want to comfort someone. However, that isn't happening right now. He has a wife and two little boys so even though, thank God, no one else has it: can't take a chance. Nope: not until this pandemic is "over". At that time I told him I owe him a big hug.

A woman I had known since elementary school died unexpectedly just before Mother's Day (not from COVID). She was an amazing wife and mother and I loved seeing her. Her death was a tragedy in and of itself. Her daughter is one of my daughter's best friends. She has a toddler and is pregnant with twins. Sometimes there just aren't any words. And now there aren't any hugs either. Especially since every week this girl would send her mom the newest sonogram pics of the twins: something special they could share. Phone calls and messages are nice but not being able to reach out and give her a real motherly hug broke my heart.

Also, no services to commemorate these two women who meant so much to those who knew and loved them. Just another tragic reality in this crazy world of 2020.

So having to wear a mask and not being able to sit in a restaurant aren't that significant in comparison to not being able to reach out and touch someone who might need it more than you know. Yeah, that's what I miss the most.

Thoughts From the Dining Room

Still working from home. I'm currently working on two projects: one of which requires a co-worker  to do her part first and then I do the rest. The other requires making phone calls to students so I need to wait until the students might actually be up for the day. In between I try to catch up on email and I can also do training.

But right now I'm having a cup of tea and letting my mind wander. So here's what I'm thinking;

• Land O Lakes Butter is removing the iconic Indian maiden from the packaging. She's been there for 100 years but people think it's racist. Ugh.
• I'm going to the store to buy a package and I'm keeping the box with her picture. Maybe it will be worth money some day!
• We have a lot of board games in the dining room. We haven't played one in three years. Maybe it's time to move them.
• Why do we have so many Monopoly games? Championship, Here & Now, Pokémon, Legends of Zelda, the Lion King, the original one and more...and I hate Monopoly! Or as I call it: Monotony!
• Tech Guy shaved his beard: hubba hubba! And he got another kitten! I can't wait until I can have a kitten. But that won't happen until I'm pet-less. 
• I will name the kitten Biscuit, and call her Biskie for short. Of course by then I'll probably be so old I'll think my name is Biscuit!
• It's not Wednesday but apparently the dogs think it's hump day. Um...they're both females so wth?
• Burger King serves breakfast until 10:30. Is 10:00 too early to take my lunch break and make a run for hash browns?
• Do I have to change my clothes to go to the drive-thru?
• I would like to wash the dishes but I'm working so I can't Bummer. Of course, when 4:00 rolls around I won't want to wash the dishes. Oh well: I'll toss Kitty a $10 and she'll wash them!
• I can't wait until I can see my hairdresser because this ponytail just isn't working. Or maybe it's working too well: when I take the hair tie out: it maintains the ponytail shape!
• I'm not sure why I have a glittery red top hanging from a curtain rod in this room. It's been hanging there for over a year. During a Zoom meeting last week a gentleman asked, "Is that a top you have hanging there?" I told him no: it was a piece of art. He was suitably impressed!

I think it's time to change location. Or else frame my top!

Who's NOT in the Will

When you're working from home, you get to spend a LOT of time observing those stranded with you. My "office" is set up in the dining room which is a perfect spot for eyeballing those in the living room. Then when I'm finished for the day: I am sitting in the living room with them. SO with that being said: here is who I have taken out of my will:

Marie - this is a no brainer. Don't get me wrong: yes she's 89 and frail and has an inoperable brain bleed. BUT with all of that she's still crafty as a fox. For instance she's pretty feisty and can be argumentative and eats like she's getting paid for it. But if her sister calls, or her brother or the crown prince from Texas (Carl) to see how she's doing, she tells them she's still 'barely hanging on' and we leave her alone for long periods of time and we didn't tell her it was Easter. Lies! There is always someone here or if the three of us have to leave together Keith is across the street and can come over; and Clancy is three blocks away and can come over. However, her best trick usually happens in the middle of the night. Brie and I sleep (ha!) in the living room with her just in case she falls or needs something. One night last week I heard her get up and go to the bathroom. However, I didn't hear the tappity tap tap of her cane. Weird. Then when she came back into the living room I asked her, "Where's your cane?" "Oh! I didn't know you were awake." "Mm hmm where's your cane?" "Oh I don't know." So miss frail and not-long-for-this-world is free wheelin' around the house without her cane when she thinks we're asleep! Yep: out of the will!

Brie - surprised? Don't be! Thanks to COVID-19 she isn't working and was released from her job like many co-workers due to not enough work to support all employees. She has asthma and is claustrophobic so having to wear a mask is a nightmare for her and gives her panic attacks. We had to go to Wal-Mart Saturday to shop and she put on her mask. But she said she couldn't stay in the store so after getting her items she gave me her debit card, told me to pay for her stuff and high-tailed it back to her car. I had a cart full of stuff to separate and pay for, take to the car and load up. Ugh! And when Kitty and I got to the car Brie was on her phone, listening to tunes and not helping put anything in the car because of her condition. Plus she likes to ask Kitty to do everything for her at home because a) of her condition; or b) she has a dog in her lap. She lounges on the couch like a Victorian woman on a chaise lounge with a case of the vapors. She's out!

Kitty - she is a gem: most of the time. She has been furloughed from her job until retail stores can reopen. But this doesn't keep her down! The store continued to pay her for a month and because her job leave is COVID related: she will be receiving the big unemployment payments. And she lives her life the way she wants, buys what she wants, dresses in styles only she can pull off and has truly been blessed by God. So what does she need my money for? She's out!

Lilly - the creepiest dog around who's supposed to be a long-haired Chihuahua but I know she isn't. . She has self-esteem issues and abandonment issues and since I've been home I can't get her off of me. Even when I'm working she's pawing at my leg to pick her up. When I'm sitting on the couch she is pressed up against me, or on me, or staring at me until I 'let her be the baby' and pick her up to cuddle against my chest. If I go to the car she howls like I've left her alone in the woods. When I come back in 3 seconds later she prances around like she won the lottery. If I'm laying on the couch on my side, she climbs on me and gazes adoringly at me. I turn my head and look back at her and she's closer. I turn my head again and look back and we're nose to nose. She just can't get close enough to me. I think the only way she could get close enough to me would be if she could wear my skin. And I'm sure this has crossed her mind. She's out!

Vivian - who actually is a long-haired Chihuahua and the cutest little dog you'd ever want to see: all 3.5 pounds of her. Her tiny face could launch a thousand ships. But she can be the most annoying little beauty EVER. She has very high metabolism and would eat her weight in food if you'd let her. If she feels I didn't give her enough treats, she will come over, get on her hind legs and push at my leg like a tiny bully. Then she'll start talking, which she does a lot. I mean actual talking, not barking. This used to be cute. When I would talk she would watch my mouth, then silently move hers as if imitating me. Then all bets were off and she'd be talking. And of course like Dr. Doolittle I know exactly what she's saying! Give me treaties! Give me schnacky! I want nummy! Give me what you're eating! I'm hungry!!!!!!!!!! And if she isn't terrorizing me over food, she is trying to force me to kiss her. When this tiny creature wants to kiss you while you're holding her: it's going to happen. I do not kiss animals but she will bide her time: side eyeing you until you forget about her  and then she turns her head and fast as lightning plants one on you. Eww! And then she sneezes on you for good measure! Out!

So who does that leave? Our beautiful Maine Coon cat Victoria. She is the most chill, Zen cat ever: thanks to how Kitty raised her (with classical music and love). She is probably 17 now, and I'm seriously not sure how much longer we will have her. But even though she has acquired a couple of annoying habits since I've been home, I'll take those over the rest. Like since I've been sleeping in the living room, she will go through the room between four and five a.m. to announce the time at the top of her kitty lungs: '4:00 and all is well!' All is not well because I need my sleep before stumbling to the dining room to work! But her favorite annoying habit is playing 'Godzilla destroys Tokyo'. I have some items on the coffee table that are essential to me. So of course Victoria will jump up onto the coffee table, no matter what I say, and sashay her big kitty self around the coffee table, knocking over everything as she goes while I say futilely, "Godzilla! Stop destroying Tokyo!" Then when enough items are on the floor, she gracefully jumps down. But she also will bump her big knotty head against me to show she loves me, she puts up with the dogs and she is just cool. Yep: she inherits everything!

Pound for Pound

Brie gets the biggest kick out of this story from years ago so this one's for her!

Her Majesty and I both had a doctor’s appointment the same morning: hers fifteen minutes before mine so we went in together.  She stepped on the scale and she had gained a couple of pounds but that wasn’t bad, considering prior to this she had lost almost forty.  She had her follow-up and then it was my turn to get weighed.  I was so busy yakking with the nurse that I didn’t pay any attention to what the scale said.  When we went back into the examining room, Kitty snuck a look at my chart and then whispered to me, “You weigh 338 pounds.”  “WHAT??!” I yelped.  “I most certainly do NOT weigh 338 pounds!”  “Yes you do.”  “No I don’t!”  “Yes you do; it says so right on the paper.”  “Girlie, I don’t know what number you were looking at, but if it said 338 it wasn’t my weight.”  To this she replied nonchalantly, “Maybe they were twos, maybe they were threes, and maybe they were fives.”  So she thought I weighed 558 pounds???

This isn’t the first time a child of mine has gotten my weight wrong.  Years ago Robin, Brie and I were weighing ourselves.  I was a little self-conscious about what I might weigh so I didn’t want anyone to see.  I thought I had shielded the number with my foot but Brie piped up, “Mom weighs 218!”  “I do not!”  “Yes you do.  I saw it!”  “No I don’t!”  Of course at the time maybe I did, or maybe I didn’t, but I didn’t need her little eight-year-old butt announcing it to the world, to the giggling delight of my sister!

Why it is that my family likes to make it seem like I’m totally disproportionate as a person?  I’m big-boned, five feet ten inches tall and I work out which doesn’t make me skinny but keeps me strong and healthy.  Yet if I do some laundry and hang the non-dryer items at my parents’ house (because I don’t have a clothesline where I live) my clothes get inspected like alien fallout!

For instance, about fifteen years ago I had a pair of sailor jeans that were trendy at the time (or maybe just to me).  I didn’t want to put them in the dryer so I hung them up on Marie's clothesline.  Along comes Clancy an hour later, looks out the window and starts laughing.  “Whose giant pants are those?” he chortled.  I glowered at him.  “They’re mine.  I don’t know what you’re laughing at because they’re a smaller size than yours!”  “Not by much!”

No matter what it is, they always act like I’m bigger than a sideshow attraction.  And please don’t let me hang up an item of intimate apparel!  I can hang it in the most secret place at Marie's, but someone will find it, hold it up and say, “Whose big granny grunts are these?” Seriously: no one makes you feel unsexier than your siblings!

Brie: you're welcome! Always at my expense...

A Quick Easter Memory

As a single mother, there were some traditions I missed. One of them was an Easter egg hunt. My girls did the hunts with others but not with mom.

That is: until Easter 2018.  Even though they are grown, that was the year I decided to surprise them with an Easter egg hunt. Not a childish one: nope! I had a little financial windfall around that time so instead of candy I put money in those plastic eggs. I was so eggs-cited, ha ha! (did you see what I did there?)

I had to wait quite a while for them to go  to bed because they were adults, but finally I had the downstairs to myself and commenced stuffing and hiding the plastic eggs.  I hid them in the living room, foyer, kitchen, freezer, and dining room.  Then I had to go to bed and wait for them to wake up.

And wait. And wait...they didn't know about the hunt and you know they were sleeping in! I was frustrated, but they finally appeared around 1 in the afternoon. "Happy Easter," they said.

"Happy Easter!!!" I exclaimed. "I have a surprise for you!" I could barely contain myself as I explained about the egg hunt. "And instead of candy: there's CASH in the eggs!" Well that's all I had to say: they were off!

Of course Brie took the lead and started out finding more eggs; so I whispered to Kitty where a couple of them were to make it more even. And it was so much fun! By the time they recouped all the eggs, they had over $200 and the big prize was a $50 bill that Kitty found. She was thrilled!

I'm pretty sure I was mother of the year that day. I'm also pretty sure they were hoping I'd do it again the following year but that didn't happen.  They're adults! But I'm glad I was able to fulfill this activity for my girls. And I think they liked the cash more than candy!

Her Majesty

The title of this entry used to be Kitty's nickname. When people find out they always ask, “Why did you call her ‘Her Majesty’”?  The answer is simple: we believe that she was a member of a royal family in a former life.  Go ahead and laugh, but this girl picked up habits and knowledge that she didn’t get from us, and were like second nature to her!

For instance, when she was just a toddler, she decided that she wouldn’t eat any food unless it was presented to her under a cover, with a flourish!  Who was she, Louis XIV?  I’m serving a two-year-old her toddler food under a silver pot top because it was the closest I could find to a food cover.  And of course, I had to say “Ta da!” when I whipped off the cover to present her kid’s meal!

Then it got to the point where she wouldn’t eat off of paper plates.  I figured if I didn't want to wash dishes, this way I wouldn’t have to.  Wrong!  She always had to have a regular plate; too good for the Hefty!

Then there was her manner of speaking, but this could be attributed to the fact that she had speech therapy for a while.  She was enunciating more properly than the Queen, which of course made her sister and I sound…less than royal, we’ll say!

She was also extremely intelligent: much more so than her years warranted.  While Brie was reading Sweet Valley High, Kitty was reading books on Meteorology, Astronomy and nature.  And then she would quiz her sister and I!  I’d be driving her to school and she would say, “Mom, what kind of cloud is that ahead?”  I’d immediately panic and start to sweat, because I could only remember one cloud from high school science.  “Um…a cumulo-nimbus?”  “No!” she’d say in exasperation.  “It’s a nimbostratus, the same kind I showed you yesterday!”  My only saving grace was she didn’t end her sentence with “Duh!”

Her sister wasn’t exempt from the quizzing either.  At night if we were out, she’d ask Brie, “What’s the name of that constellation?” and she’d point at the sky.  Unfortunately, like me, Brie could only identify the two dippers and Orion.  “Um, the Little Bear?”  “No, it’s Cassiopeia, like I told you last time!”  Poor Brie!

But what really sets her apart is her memory for just about anything she has read or seen.  One night we’re playing “Outburst!” and we get to the category of famous composers.  Brie and I came up with about five or six that were on the card but Kitty, who wasn’t even playing and just happened to be walking through the room, named all twelve composers.  I barely knew twelve composers, to say nothing of being able to guess which ones were on the card!

What’s listed above barely scratches the surface of Ms. Kitty's blue blood.  But thankfully, she has stopped treating Brie and I like the peasants she obviously thought we were!  

Hangin' With Keith

I honestly don't think I've ever mentioned Keith in any of my blogs. He's my older brother (when I claim him) who doesn't drive anymore, by choice. We've never had much of a relationship until Robin died. Then he probably figured good thing he had a spare sister, and that's me.

Our relationship doesn't actually involve "hangin' out", per se. It involves him sitting at home thinking about what errands he can have me run for him, and then calling me to do them. Or, since he isn't tech savvy, he asks me to pay his bills for him online so they post faster (yes he gives me the money for them). But actually spending time with him: wasn't on my to-do list.

I guess it was on his! He called me last Friday and said, "I'd like to go grocery shopping tomorrow at Price Rite. What time did you want to take me?" "Um...what time did you want to go?" "Oh you know me: the earlier the better!" So no sleeping in for Rita! "How about 9:00?" "See you then!"

Of course I was annoyed because a) Saturday is my only day to sleep in; and b) I don't like Price Rite. But being the dutiful servant that I am, it looked like I'd be hangin' with Keith the next day. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad: I'd bring a book and stay in the car. Or I would go in just to buy some of the crackers that Marie really likes. They were only $1.49 there, as opposed to $2.99 at my favorite independent grocer. So I'd go in, get those crackers, and go back to the car.

Just in case Keith didn't have any reusable bags (plastic is banned) I brought a couple along. I had one for my crackers. He was ready promptly at 9, but of course had to go to the bank first. Then we were on our way! When we got there I told him I only needed a couple of things and was then coming back to the car. He got his cart and made his way in while I sent a text, and then, just in case, I grabbed one of the bags, got my own cart (you have no idea how many crackers Marie can eat!) and headed in myself. I just hoped the crackers were in the same place, at the same price!

When you enter the store, the produce section is the first area. It had taken me a few minutes to finally go in, and I could see Keith hadn't even made it through the produce section yet. This gave me a feeling of foreboding...but I kept it moving, passed him and found the crackers. Yes! Still $1.49! I grabbed four packs, and then decided to take a look at the meat. I found a beautiful pack of chuck steaks, perfect for Shanghai Beef and threw that in my cart too. Keith finally passed me and headed to the dairy section. I decided, since I rarely visit that store, to take a cursory walk around to see if there was anything else Marie might like at a really good price.

And that was my mistake: there was plenty of good stuff at great prices! As I went through the store I noticed my cart was getting pretty loaded. Periodically Keith and I would cross paths and he'd show me something he'd found that Marie or I would like. Then I'd head to that area to stock up!

Finally we got to the last aisle, the frozen food section. Keith got two pies for $5 each (coconut cream and Boston cream) and some TV dinners that Marie hadn't tried before, but some stranger had recommended. Why not trust a stranger's advice? (and in this case he was right: Marie loved them).

Since the frozen section was by the registers, I told Keith I was checking out and going to the car. He said he was right behind me. I went to a self checkout register, and let me tell you: it was a good thing I had grabbed the large bag because I had to pack all of that stuff into one and it was heavy and full. But no regrets! I paid and left.

I hauled my one big bag into the back seat and waited for Keith. And waited. And waited. He was right behind me! I started to get irritated. Had he tried to self checkout? Nah, that would be too technical for him and he had produce. Had he gotten mad at the cashier and cursed him out? That was a possibility. But what if he had a sugar low or a heart attack and fell out? Was an ambulance on its way? It had been over half an hour and with this thought I figured I'd better go in and check. Thankfully as I had this thought I saw him coming out, and none of his groceries were bagged and I know he had a couple of bags.

When he got to the car he said, "I ran into a couple of people I know and we had to catch up. And one worked in produce and told me to buy this fruit." He showed me the fresh fruit as I thought about how I thought he was dead. Then, since his two little bags weren't sufficient, I gave him the other two I had and helped him pack up the groceries. Now time to take him home! "So where do you want to go out to eat?"

I gave him an alarmed look. "Um...nowhere. Restaurants are closed." "Why?" "Because of the COVID-19. Only essential businesses are open; or restaurant delivery or takeout." "No kidding!" "Keith, how do you not know that?" "I never watch the news because there's nothing good." I couldn't fault him there...

So home again, home again jiggity-jig. I wasn't mad at this because I don't think I'm ready to share a meal with him. But he says he owes me when this is all over. Maybe by then I'll be ready. In the meantime: he made sure to give me his bills and money before I left!

Thankful for Dreams

If you are a frequent reader, you know that my sister died in 2015.  The pain lessens but never totally goes away. Thankfully my brother Clancy, my daughters and I are able to reminisce and laugh at various memories. She had a quirky sense of humor and was a fan of British humor like Benny Hill (frightening), Absolutely Fab and Monty Python (frightening). She would tell you that her favorite movie was Sense and Sensibility. Lies! In reality her favorite movie was Bachelor Party with Tom Hanks. I couldn’t even tell you how many times she and my father watched this movie and would laugh uproariously every single time. I would just shake my head. If you want to see what I mean, please on demand or Amazon Prime this movie. You’ll never look at Tom Hanks the same again!


Anyhoo, I really miss her. The sad thing is she was a person like my mother: hated to have her picture taken. Therefore, we have very few pictures of Robin: a few as a child but less than that as an adult.

That’s why I am thankful when I have a “dream” about her. I’ve had several. It makes me a little sad that she never speaks in these dreams, but she always looks happy and serene.


Last night I had a dream about her. I went to Marie’s house looking for her, and she said, “She isn’t home from work yet.” Seriously? Her hours were 6 a.m. until 2 p.m. Where could she be? She didn’t come home that whole night. The next day I went over again, looking for her. Marie said, “Of course she’s home. But she’s sleeping on the couch so don’t wake her.” I crept into the living room and sure enough: there she was asleep on the couch. She looked beautiful…She was wearing a black coat, black pants and black top, black mules yet oddly: white socks. Her shoulder-length hair was wavy and she had a serene smile on her face. I could have looked at her all day, but that isn’t how dreams work. And in my rational mind I was thinking: Robin never wore shoes, only sneakers. Yes she wore white socks, but she never wore an all-black ensemble. Hmm, maybe this is why she doesn't talk to me!


Being asleep in the dream ensured she didn't talk to me, but that’s okay. It was good seeing her. It’s different when it’s my father. Daddy Clank always has something to say! His dreams are more like “visits” because of what he discusses with me. I know it isn’t really my father: I believe it’s an angel taking a familiar form so I’m not afraid. Regardless: what I am told is always on point. And he looks spiffy in his navy blue three piece suit!


“Seeing” these two always makes me smile. And it helps lessen the pain a little bit more...